Kolbein.—­I shall spare you, kinsman! (Speaks unintelligibly.  HELGA bends down over him.)

Helga.—­My husband wishes that you, Brand Kolbeinsson, and you, Thorolf, shall swear to each other an everlasting truce, now immediately.

Brand.—­Is that your wish, kinsman Kolbein?

Kolbein.—­It is.  It is.  Six hundred men!  Advance bravely after me!  My kinsman Brand is in great danger.

Broddi.—­Always it is you, Brand!  Physician, attend to the sick man.

Salvor.—­Carry your chieftain into his bed!

Kolbein.—­Woden owns all the slain men!  Neither Thord Kakali nor one of his men will return alive over Blanda.  Another battle won.  A great and glorious victory.  Carry away the fallen, I will not see them.  Woden owns all the slain men.

Botolf.—­So much devilish magic yet living in a Christian country!  And this man have I shriven but a short while ago!  Woden owns all the slain men! (KOLBEIN’S men surround him to bear him out on their shields.  HELGA speaks fast and in a low voice to ASBJORN ILLUGASON.)

Helga.—­Place our armed servants before all doors.  And let them stay there.  And leave the doors open after you when you come in again.

Kolbein.—­Woden owns all the slain men.  You bleed, Thorolf Bjarnason.  Put on your head, Thorolf!  Put on your head!  Beware of the cave by the Kolbeinstream!

(ASBJORN ILLUGASON, HAF, and others carry KOLBEIN out.  SALVOR follows them.  HELGA leads BISHOP BOTOLF to the high seat.)

Helga.—­I have neglected to show you those marks of esteem which I ought to have shown you, my lord!  But my situation has been a troublesome one for a while.

Botolf.—­I have been thinking in my mind the while, my lady, how much you resemble in mien and carriage the women of the ancient race of the kings of Norway.

Helga (laughs).—­I am a descendant in the fourth generation of King Magnus Bareleg, and were I a man and not a woman I would be nearer to the throne of Norway than your King Hakon.  This relationship cost my brother Paul his life, when he was in Norway.

Botolf.—­That story I have heard!  But his death was not the wish of the Norwegians.

(ASBJORN and HAF, and the men who carried out KOLBEIN, come in again, leaving the door stand open.  One sees armed men standing outside.  LADY HELGA seats herself on the dais.)

Helga.—­How long shall my husband wait until you swear the truce to each other, Thorolf and Brand?

Botolf.—­The Holy Church cannot confirm the apportionment of the districts which you have made, excepting the chieftains swear each other an everlasting truce.

Broddi.—­The Holy Church owns not the Northland Quarter!