Two men ran past me and took Beorn, throwing up his sword with their quarterstaves, and it seemed to me that it was done over gently.  Then they bound us both and set us on the ground face to face.

“Now here be fine doings!” said a man, who seemed to be the leader of the six or seven who had ended the fight.

“Aye, ’tis murder,” said another, looking from Beorn to me and then to Beorn again; “but which is murderer and which true man?”

Now all these men were strangers to me, but I knew one thing about them from their dress.  They were the men of mighty Earl Ulfkytel himself, and seemed to be foresters, and honest men enough by their faces.

“I am Wulfric, son of Elfric of Reedham,” I said.  “The slain man is Lodbrok, the Danish jarl, and this man slew him.”

“He lies!” cried Beorn.  “It was he who slew him, and I would revenge myself on him, for this Lodbrok was my friend.”

Now I held my peace, keeping back my wrath as well as I might, for I began to see that Beorn had some deep plot on hand, thus to behave as if innocent.

“Why, so he cried out as we came,” said one of the men when he heard Beorn’s words.

“Maybe both had a hand in it,” the leader said, and so they talked for a little.

Then came two of my own serfs, who had followed me to see the sport, I suppose, at a distance, as idle men will sometimes, when hunting is on hand, and with them came Lodbrok’s dog, the same that had brought me.  And when the dog saw Beorn he flew at him and would have mauled him sorely, but that the earl’s men beat him off with their staves; and one took the leash that hung from my saddle bow and tied him to a tree, where he sat growling and making as though he would again fly at the falconer.

“Whose dog is this?” asked the leader.

“His,” answered the serfs, pointing to Lodbrok.

“Dogs might tell strange tales could they talk,” said the earl’s man; “I misdoubt both these men.  Let us take them to the earl for judgment.”

“Where is the earl?” I asked.

“At Caistor,” answered the man shortly, and I was glad that he was so near, for the matter would be quickly settled and I could go free.

“Unbind me, and I will go where you will,” I said, but at that Beorn cried out.

“Loose him not, loose him not, I pray you!”

“Tie their hands behind them and let us be gone,” was the answer, and they did so, loosing my feet, and setting us on my horse and Lodbrok’s.  And some of the men stayed behind with my serfs to make a litter on which to carry my friend’s body, and follow us to Caistor.  So as I went I cried quickly to those two men of mine that they should go in all haste to Reedham and tell what had befallen me to our steward, who would know what to do.

“Reedham is too far for a rescue to reach you in time,” said the leader of the earl’s men grimly; “think not of it.”