eft to tell the tidings to Thiodolf when he should come into Mid-mark.

So Otter and his folk crossed the ford, and drew up in good order on the
westward bank, and it was then somewhat more than three hours after noon.
He had been there but a little while before he noted a stir in the
Bearing meadow, and lo, it was the first of Thiodolf's folk, who had
gotten out of the wood and had fallen in with the men whom he had left
behind. And these first were the riders of the Bearings, and the
Wormings, (for they had out-gone the others who were afoot). It may well
be thought how fearful was their anger when they set eyes on the
smouldering ashes of the dwellings; nor even when those folk of Otter had
told them all they had to tell could some of them refrain them from
riding off to the burnt houses to seek for the bodies of their kindred.
But when they came there, and amidst the ashes could find no bones, their
hearts were lightened, and yet so mad wroth they were, that some could
scarce sit their horses, and great tears gushed from the eyes of some,
and pattered down like hail-stones, so eager were they to see the blood
of the Romans. So they rode back to where they had left their folk
talking with them of Otter; and the Bearings were sitting grim upon their
horses and somewhat scowling on Otter's men. Then the foremost of those
who had come back from the houses waved his hand toward the ford, but
could say nought for a while; but the captain and chief of the Bearings,
a grizzled man very big of body, whose name was Arinbiorn, spake to that
man and said; "What aileth thee Sweinbiorn the Black? What hast thou
seen?"

He said:

"Now red and grey is the pavement of the Bearings' house of old:
Red yet is the floor of the dais, but the hearth all grey and cold.
I knew not the house of my fathers; I could not call to mind
The fashion of the building of that Warder of the Wind.
O wide were grown the windows, and the roof exceeding high!
For nought there was to look on 'twixt the pavement and the sky.
But the tie-beam lay on the dais, and methought its staining fair;
For rings of smoothest charcoal were round it here and there,
And the red flame flickered o'er it, and never a staining wight
Hath red earth in his coffer so clear and glittering bright,
And still the little smoke-wreaths curled o'er it pale and blue.
Yea, fair is our hall's adorning for a feast that is strange and new."

Said