But my mother, whose favourite son I was, lifted up her voice and
wept. Then they took the clothes from off me, and, while all watched,
Freydisa, the skilled woman, examined my hurts. She felt my head and
looked into my eyes, and laying her ear upon my breast, listened for the
beating of my heart.

Presently she rose, and, turning, said slowly:

"Olaf is not dead, though near to death. His pulses flutter, the light
of life still burns in his eyes, and though the blood runs from his
ears, I think the skull is not broken."

When she heard these words, Thora, my mother, whose heart was weak,
fainted for joy, and my father, untwisting a gold ring from his arm,
threw it to Freydisa.

"First the cure," she said, thrusting it away with her foot. "Moreover,
when I work for love I take no pay."

Then they washed me, and, having dressed my hurts, laid me on a bed
near the fire that warmth might come back to me. But Freydisa would not
suffer them to give me anything save a little hot milk which she poured
down my throat.



For three days I lay like one dead; indeed, all save my mother held
Freydisa wrong and thought that I was dead. But on the fourth day I
opened my eyes and took food, and after that fell into a natural