And so the king sat down again, and the lady Elfrida waited,
resting one hand on the table at the end of the dais farthest from
me, and holding the golden cup yet in the other.

"What shall be done to the man who slays my brother?" the thrall
cried.

And the king answered:

"If he has slain him by craft, he shall die; but if in fair fight
and for what men deem reason, then he shall pay the full weregild
that is due according to my dooms."

Then said the man, and his voice minded me of Owen's in some way:

"But and if he slew him openly in cold blood, for no wrong done to
himself?"

"A strange doing," said the king--"but he should die therefor."

The king leant forward, with his elbow on the table to hear the
better, and the man was close to the lowest step to be near him. It
seemed that he was very wroth, for his right hand clutched the
front of his rough jerkin fiercely, and his voice was harsh and
shaking.

"It is your own word, Ina of Wessex, that the man who has slain my
brother in this wise shall die. Lo, you! I am Morgan of
Dyvnaint--and thus--"