Helga.—­Say what you please, bishop.  But you will have to revoke your interdict before you go from hence.

Botolf.—­That shall I never.  No priest shall ever say service for you, and, you shall have no lasting dwelling place but hell. (Holds the candles with the flame downward.)

Helga.—­Haf, you stand near enough to the bishop!  Gag him with the end of your spear.

Kolbein (jumps up without letting go of BRODDI).—­Hear me, sir bishop!  Desist from laying the interdict on me, because not far is the time when I shall need the mercy of God and his Holy Church.  Lady Helga has been insulted in such fashion as no high-born lady would endure.  But I, for my part, shall be ready to make atonement for the insult offered by her to you and the Holy Church now for the first time.

Botolf.—­Easy it is to reach an agreement with me, Kolbein, if this larger matter which you have been warring about so long could be settled to-night to the satisfaction of all.

Kolbein.—­Then hear my decision:  For the murder of Thorolf Bjarnason.  I decree a fine of eighteen marks silver, and also that those men who may have fallen as part of the vengeance for Thorolf shall not be atoned for.

Brand.—­Agreed, kinsman Kolbein; the sum you demand for the slaying of Thorolf shall be paid.

Helga.—­How may this be, my husband?  You have promised me a man’s life before this feud would be ended.

Kolbein.—­Have I not demanded an exceedingly high compensation for Thorolfs death?

Helga.—­But Thorolf was slain in a pledged truce.

Broddi.—­That truce was made under compulsion.

Kolbein.—­The man’s life you stipulated for yourself you have chosen and taken yourself, or else, where is Helgi Skaftason?

(HELGA is silent.)

Brand.—­Helgi Skaftason!  Where is he?

Botolf.—­His axe is there! (DEACON SIGURD looks around.) Are you still carrying weapons, Deacon Sigurd?  Clercs are not permitted to bear arms.

Sigurd.—­Great need I thought there was to do so now.  The danger in which was my lady Jorun and you also, sir bishop, and the axe lay before my feet.

Botolf.—­Nevermore carry arms, deacon!

Brand.—­Is Helgi Skaftason still alive?  If so, is it not possible that his deed be atoned for?

Helga.—­I shall no longer conceal from you, Brand Kolbeinsson, that Helgi Skaftason will no more dry his axe on the fringe of my veil!  In order now that this our reconciliation be kept well I desire to have your son Kalf, to foster him up with me.

Jorun.—­That shall never be, that you train my boy to be a disturber of the peace.

Botolf.—­That shall never be; the boy is a hopeful man for a chieftain and ought to be trained up to love peace and abide by the law.