though it was sheathed, was not girt to him, and its golden-studded
belt was twisted about it, and it was no imperfect giving.

So I spoke in a low voice:

"Jarl Sigurd, I thank you. If my might is aught, the sword will be
used as you would have used it. Surely I will say to Einar that you
rest in peace, and we will come here and close your mound again in
all honour."

I set back his hand then, and it seemed empty and helpless, not as
a warrior's should be. So I ungirt my own weapon--a good plain
sword that I had won from a viking in Caithness--and laid it in the
place of that he had given me. And as I put the thin fingers on its
hilt, almost thinking that they would chose around it, a ring
slipped from them into my hand, as if he would give that also, and
I kept it therefore.

Then for a minute I stood before Jarl Sigurd, waiting to see if he
had any word; but when he spoke not, I lifted the sword and saluted
him.

"Skoal to Jarl Sigurd; rest in peace, and farewell."

Then I went forth softly, and came out into sunshine; for the wind
was singing round the hilltops, and the dun mist had gone. Then I
was ware that the sound of the stone on the sword edge had long
ceased, and I looked for Kolgrim.

He was lying on the grass in the place where I had left him, but he