hat had been made ready for sacrifice was led in
and dragged before the altar on which the holy fire burned. Now Asmund
the Priest slew it, amid silence, before the figures of the Gods, and,
catching its blood in the blood-bowl, sprinkled the altar and all
the worshippers with the blood-twigs. Then the ox was cut up, and the
figures of the almighty Gods were anointed with its molten fat and wiped
with fair linen. Next the flesh was boiled in the cauldrons that were
hung over fires lighted all down the nave, and the feast began.

Now men ate, and drank much ale and mead, and all were merry. But
Ospakar Blacktooth grew not glad, though he drank much, for he saw that
the eyes of Gudruda ever watched Eric's face and that they smiled on
each other. He was wroth at this, for he knew that the bait must be good
and the line strong that should win this fair fish to his angle, and as
he sat, unknowingly his fingers loosed the peace-strings of his sword
Whitefire, and he half drew it, so that its brightness flamed in the
firelight.

"Thou hast a wondrous blade there, Ospakar!" said Asmund, "though this
is no place to draw it. Whence came it? Methinks no such swords are
fashioned now."

"Ay, Asmund, a wondrous blade indeed. There is no other such in the
world, for the dwarfs forged it of old, and he shall be unconquered who
holds it aloft. This was King Odin's sword, and it is named Whitefire.
Ralph the Red took it from King Eric's cairn in Norway, and he strove
long with the Barrow-Dweller[*] before he wrenched it from his grasp.
But my father won it and slew Ralph, though he had never done this had
Whitefire been aloft against him. But Ralph the Red, being in drink when
the ships met in battle, fought with an axe, and was slain by my father,
and since then Whitefire has been the last light that many a chief's
eyes have seen. Look at it, Asmund."

[*] The ghost in the cairn.

Now he drew the great sword, and men were astonished as it flashed
aloft. Its hilt was of gold, and blue stones were set therein. It
measured two ells and a half from crossbar to point, and so bright was
the broad blade that no one could look on it for long, and all down its
length ran runes.

"A wondrous weapon, truly!" said Asmund. "How read the runes?"

"I know not, nor any man--they are ancient."

"Let me look at them," said Groa, "I am skilled in runes." Now she
took the sword, and heaved it up, and looked at the runes and said, "A
strange writ