Even as we watched him—­Hubba sitting on the table’s edge, and I standing by him—­a leathern curtain that went across a door at the upper end of the hall was pulled aside, and a lady came into the place.  Stately and tall, with wondrous black hair, was this maiden, and I knew that this must be that Osritha of whom the jarl was wont to speak to Eadgyth and my mother, and who wrought the raven banner that hung above the high place where she stood now.  She was like Halfden and Hubba, though with Ingvar’s hair, and if those three were handsome men among a thousand, this sister of theirs was more than worthy of them.  She stood in the door, doubting, when she saw me.  Sad she looked, and she wore no gold on arm or neck, doubtless because of the certainty of the great jarl’s death; and when she saw that Hubba beckoned to her, she came towards us, and Ingvar set down the great axe whose edge he was feeling.

“Go back to your bower, sister,” he said; “we have work on hand.”

And he spoke sternly, but not harshly, to her.  She shrank away a little, as if frightened at the jarl’s dark face and stern words, but Hubba called her by name.

“Stay, Osritha; here is that friend of our father’s from over seas, of whom you have heard.”

Then she looked pityingly at me, as I thought, saying very kindly: 

“You are welcome.  Yet I fear you have suffered for your friendship to my father.”

“I have suffered for not being near to help him, lady,” I said.

“There is a thing that you know not yet,” said Hubba.  “This Wulfric was the man who took Father from the breakers.”

Then the maiden smiled at me, though her eyes were full of tears, and she asked me: 

“How will they bury him in your land?  In honour?”

“I have a brother-in-law who will see to that,” I said.  “And, moreover, Eadmund the King, and Elfric, my father, will do him all honour.”

“I will see to that,” growled Ingvar, turning sharply from where he sought another weapon on the wall.

Not knowing all he meant, this pleased me, for I thought that we should sail together to Reedham for this, before very long.  But Osritha, knowing his ways, looked long at him, till he turned away again, and would not meet her eyes.

“Now go back to your place, my sister,” he said.  “It is not well for you to bide here just now.”

“Why not?  Let our friend tell me of Father also,” she said wilfully.

“Because I am going to do justice on Lodbrok’s slayer,” said Ingvar, in a great voice, swinging an axe again.

Then the maiden turned pale, and wrung her hands, looking at Ingvar, who would not meet her eyes; and then she went and laid her hands on his mighty arm, crying: 

“Not that, my brother; not that!”

“Why not?” he asked; but he did not shake off her little hands.

“Because Father would not have men so treated, however ill they had done.”