I was about to answer, but at that word it seemed that for the first time Beorn learnt into whose hands he had fallen, and he fell on his knees between his two guards, crying for mercy.  I think that he was distraught with terror, for his words were thick and broken, and he had forgotten that none but I knew of his ill deed.

That made the jarl think that somewhat was amiss, and he bade his men bind us both.

“Bind them fast, and find my brother Hubba,” he said, and men rode away into the forest.  But I spoke to him boldly.

“Will you bind a man who bears these tokens, Jarl?”

And I held out my hand to him, showing him the rings that Lodbrok and Halfden had given me.

“My father’s ring—­and Halfden’s!” he said, gripping my hand, as he looked closely at the runes upon them, so tightly that it was pain to me.  “By Odin’s beard, this grows yet stranger!  Who are you, and whence, and how came you by these things?”

“I am Wulfric, son of Elfric, the Thane of Reedham, ‘the merchant’ as men call him.  I have been Jarl Lodbrok’s friend, and have fought by the side of Halfden, his son, as these tokens may tell you.  As for the rest, that is for yourself alone, Jarl.  For I have no good tidings, as I fear.”

“Who is this man, then, and why cries he thus in terror?”

“Beorn, falconer to Eadmund, King of the East Angles,” I said.

But I would not answer at once to the other question, and Ingvar seemed not to notice it.

Then there was silence while the great jarl sat on his horse very still, and looked hard at me and at Beorn; but when the men would have bound us he signed them back, letting Beorn go free.  Whereupon his knees gave way, and he sank down against the house wall, while I leant against it and looked at the mighty Dane, somewhat dreading what I had to tell him, but meaning to go through all plainly.

Now the ring of men closed round us, staring at us, but in silence, save for the ringing of the horns that were blowing in the woods to call Hubba from his sport.  And Jarl Ingvar sat still, as if carved in oak, and seemed to ponder, frowning heavily at us, though the look in his eyes went past me as it were.

Glad was I when a horseman or two rode up and reined in alongside Ingvar.  I think that the foremost rider was the most goodly warrior to look on that I had ever seen, and one might know well that he was Lodbrok’s son.

“Ho, brother!” he cried; “I thought you had harboured the greatest bear in all Jutland in Raud’s hut.  And it is naught but two strangers.  What is the trouble with them?”

“Look at yon man’s hand,” said Ingvar.

I held out my hand, and Hubba looked at the rings, whereupon his face lit up as Halfden’s had lighted, and he said: 

“News of our father and brother!  That is well; tell us, friend, all that you know.”

“Stay,” said Ingvar; “I took yon man from the boat we made for our father; he was half dead therein, and his wrists have the marks of cords on them; also when he heard my name he began to cry for mercy, and I like it not.”