Swanhild heard and sank upon the ground before him, her head bowed almost to her feet.

“Now, Swanhild, fare thee well,” said Eric.  “Living or dead, may I never see thy face again!”

She gazed up through her falling hair; her face was wild and white, and her eyes glowed in it as live embers glow in the ashes of burnt wood.

“We are not so easily parted, Eric,” she said.  “Not for this came I to witchcraft and to sin.  Thou fool! hast thou never heard that, of all the foes a man may have, none is so terrible as the woman he has scorned?  Thou shalt learn this lesson, Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur’s son:  for here we have but the beginning of the tale.  For its end, I will write it in runes of blood.”

“Write on,” said Eric.  “Thou canst do no worse than thou hast done,” and he passed thence.

For a while Swanhild crouched upon the ground, brooding in silence.  Then she rose, and, throwing up her arms, wept aloud.

“Is it for this that I have sold my soul to the Hell-hag?” she cried.  “Is it for this that I have become a witch, and sunk so low as I sank last night—­to be scorned, to be hated, to be betrayed?  Now Eric will go to Atli and tell this tale.  Nay, there I will be beforehand with him, and with another story—­an ancient wile of women truly, but one that never yet has failed them, nor ever will.  And then for vengeance!  I will see thee dead, Eric, and dead will I see Gudruda at thy side!  Afterwards let darkness come—­ay, though the horror rides it!  Swift!—­I must be swift!”

Eric passed into Swanhild’s bower, and, finding Whitefire, bore it thence.  On the table was food.  He took it.  Then, going to the place where he was wont to sleep, he armed himself, girding his byrnie on his breast and his golden helm upon his head, and taking shield and spear in his hand.  Then he passed out.  By the men’s door he found some women spreading fish in the sun.  Eric greeted them, saying that when the Earl came back, for he was to come on that morning, he would find him on the south-western rocks nigh to where the Gudruda sank.  This he begged of them to tell Atli, for he desired speech with him.

The women wondered that Brighteyes should go forth thus and fully armed, but, holding that he had some deed to do, they said nothing.

Eric came to the rocks, and there he sat all day long looking on the sea, and grieving so bitterly that he thought his heart would burst within him.  For of all the days of Eric’s life this was the heaviest, except one other only.

But Swanhild, going to her bower, caused Koll the Half-witted to be summoned.  To him she spoke long and earnestly, and they made a shameful plot together.  Then she bade Koll watch for Atli’s coming and, when he saw the Earl leave his boats, to run to him and say that she would speak with him.

After this Swanhild sent a man across the firth to the stead where Hall of Lithdale sat, bidding him to come to her at speed.