“I meant not that, but to have witnesses to speak for me.”

“That is fair,” said the man, after a little thought, “we will not hinder their going.”

Then they led us away, and presently reached that place where I had seen the broken arrow, and one picked it up, saying that here was surely the place where the deed was done, and that the arrow would maybe prove somewhat.  And I think that here Beorn had shot the jarl, for all around those other marks on the grass were the hoofmarks of the rearing and frightened horse, and there were many places where an archer might lie unseen in the thickets, after following us all day maybe, as Beorn must have done, thus to find fitting chance for his plan when we two were far apart.  And surely, had it not been for the dog, I think the fate of Lodbrok would have been unknown for many a long day, for but for him Beorn would have hidden his deed and ridden off before I had known aught.

Now, as the man handled the broken arrow, walking beside me, I saw it plainly, and knew it for one of my own, and one of four that I had lost at Thetford, though I did not know how.

At that I seemed to see all the plot, and my heart sank within me, for this Beorn was most crafty, and had planned well to throw doubt on me if things by ill chance fell out as they had, and so I rode in silence wondering what help should come, and whence.  And I thought of Halfden, and what he should think when he heard the tale that was likely to be told him, and even as I thought this there was a rushing of light wings, and Lodbrok’s gray falcon—­which I had cast from my wrist as I fell on Beorn—­came back to me, and perched on my saddle, for my hands were bound behind me.  She had become unhooded in some way.

Then Beorn cried out to the men to take the falcon, for it was his, and that he would not have her lost; and that angered me so that I cried out on him, giving him the lie, and he turned pale as if I were free and could smite him.  Whereon the men bade us roughly to hold our peace, and the leader whistled to the falcon and held out his hand to take her.  But she struck at him and soared away, and I watched her go towards Reedham, and was glad she did so with a sort of dull gladness.

For I would have no man pass through a time of thoughts such as mine were as they took me to Caistor—­rage and grief and fear of shame all at once, and one chasing the other through my mind till I knew not where I was, and would start as from a troubled dream when one spoke, and then go back to the same again as will a sick man.  But by the time we reached Caistor I had, as it seemed to me, thought every thought that might be possible, and one thing only was plain and clear.  I would ask for judgment by Eadmund the King, and if that might not be, then for trial by battle, which the earl would surely grant.  And yet I hoped that Beorn’s plot was not so crafty but that it would fail in some way.