Now the earl called to the guards from the water’s edge, saying that the time was come, and we rode towards him, and I made Egfrid promise that he would hold his hand, at least till my father came.

Now they drew my boat to the shore, and they took Beorn from his horse first, and often have I wondered that he did not confess, but he said no word, and maybe his senses had left him by reason of his terror.  They haled him to the boat and unbound him, setting him in the bows, where he sank down, seeming helpless, but staring away from shore over the sparkling waters that he feared.

Then came my turn, and of my own will I stepped into the boat, looking her over to see that all was there as when Lodbrok came.  And all was there, though that was little enough.  The one oar, the baler, and a few fathoms of line on the floorboards.

Now as I had nothing to lose by speaking, I cried to the earl concerning the one matter that troubled me.

“Earl Ulfkytel, I pray you forgive my poor folk if they fought for me when you took the boat.”

“They knew not why it was taken,” he answered quietly.  “I sent a messenger before I gave sentence.  But I should not have blamed them had they fought, knowing all.”

Then a rough man who tended the boat called out: 

“Ho, Lord Earl, are these murderers to go forth with gold on arm and hand?” for we had been stripped of naught but our arms, and I suppose the man coveted these things.

But the earl answered: 

“Which is the murderer?  I know not.  When his time comes stripped he will be of life itself.  Let the men be,” and then in a moment he asked one by him; “what weapons had Lodbrok when he came?”

“Only a dagger,” answered the thane to whom he spoke.  “Or so men say.”

“That is true,” I said plainly.

“Give the men their daggers,” then said the earl; and when one told him that we should use them on each other, he answered: 

“I think they will not; do my bidding!”

So they threw my hunting knife to me, and I girded it on.  But Beorn’s dagger fell on the floor of the boat, and he paid no heed to it, not even turning his head.

Then the earl and three thanes went on board the fishing boat, and Egfrid would fain have come with him.  But I signed him back, and when the fishermen put out oars and pushed from the shore, towing us with them, he ran waist deep into the water, and clasped my hand for the last time, weeping.

Then the shore grew dim to my eyes, and I put my head in my hands and would look no more.  Soon I heard only the wash and creak of the large boat’s oars, and a murmured word or two from those on board her.  Then from Burgh Tower came the tolling of the bell, as for the dying, and that was the last voice of England that I heard as we went from shore to sea.