"Call the men together into the courtyard, Raud, and let them bring the man there." "Let him die, Jarl," I said boldly; "he has suffered already." "I think that if you knew, Wulfric of Reedham, how near you have been to this yourself, through his doings, you would not hold your hand," answered Ingvar, scowling at Beorn again.
"Maybe, Jarl," I answered, "but though you may make a liar speak truth thus, you cannot make an honest man say more than he has to speak." "One cannot well mistake an honest saying," said Ingvar.

"And that is well for you, friend." And so he turned and watched his courtmen, as the Danes called the housecarles, carry Beorn out.

Then he went to the walls and began to handle axe after axe, taking down one by one, setting some on the great table, and putting others back, as if taking delight in choosing one fittest for some purpose.
Even as we watched him--Hubba sitting on the table's edge, and I standing by him--a leathern curtain that went across a door at the upper end of the hall was pulled aside, and a lady came into the place.

Stately and tall, with wondrous black hair, was this maiden, and I knew that this must be that Osritha of whom the jarl was wont to speak to Eadgyth and my mother, and who wrought the raven banner that hung above the high place where she stood now.

She was like Halfden and Hubba, though with Ingvar's hair, and if those three were handsome men among a thousand, this sister of theirs was more than worthy of them.