They heard no answer, but Oswald came forth and bade them place the stone.
"Set it well," he said, "for it will not be moved again. The house of Brander is ended. There will be no other who will have the right to be buried behind the stone."
None answered him, but the women whispered sadly to one another: "What of Ulric the Jarl?"
The men followed Oswald to the house, for a feast had been prepared in honor of the daughter of Odin, and the tables were set. Other harpers had come, with chiefs and men of rank, but no other harp might sound until after that of Oswald.
The central fire had gone out, but he had bidden them leave the ash heap. It was high and gray, and he sat down by it, bringing his harp nearer. All who were there had heard him often, but never before, they said, had they heard him touch his harp as he did now. The music was wonderful, and with it arose his voice in marvelous power, for he sang of heroes, and of gods, and of the unseen lands where the gods live. Also, before he ceased, he sang of Ulric the Jarl and of the ship The Sword, as if even now he could see her going into battle and hear the warhorn of the son of Brander.
So was the passing of Hilda of the hundred years.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
The Jew and the Greek.
"O jarl," said Sigurd, the son of Thorolf, "many days have passed since we entered this sea. Thou hast pleased thy crew by landings at harbors. They have also smitten quiet people against thy will, and uselessly. They are hard to govern."