Now, Koll the Half-witted went upon his errand, and the time passed till it lacked but a month to Yule, and men sat indoors, for the season was dark and much snow fell.  At length came frost, and with it a clear sky, and Gudruda, ceasing from her spinning in the hall, went to the woman’s porch, and, looking out, saw that the snow was hard, and a great longing came upon her to breathe the fresh air, for there was still an hour of daylight.  So she threw a cloak about her and walked forth, taking the road towards Coldback in the Marsh that is by Ran River.  But Swanhild watched her till she was over the hill.  Then she also took a cloak and followed on that path, for she always watched Gudruda.

Gudruda walked on for the half of an hour or so, when she became aware that the clouds gathered in the sky, and that the air was heavy with snow to come.  Seeing this she turned homewards, and Swanhild hid herself to let her pass.  Now flakes floated down as big and soft as fifa flowers.  Quicker and more quick they came till all the plain was one white maze of mist, but through it Gudruda walked on, and after her crept Swanhild, like a shadow.  And now the darkness gathered and the snow fell thick and fast, covering up the track of her footsteps and she wandered from the path, and after her wandered Swanhild, being loath to show herself.  For an hour or more Gudruda wandered and then she called aloud and her voice fell heavily against the cloak of snow.  At the last she grew weary and frightened, and sat down upon a shelving rock whence the snow had slipped away.  Now, a little way behind was another rock and there Swanhild sat, for she wished to be unseen of Gudruda.  So some time passed, and Swanhild grew heavy as though with sleep, when of a sudden a moving thing loomed upon the snowy darkness.  Then Gudruda leapt to her feet and called.  A man’s voice answered: 

“Who passes there?”

“I, Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter.”

The form came nearer; now Swanhild could hear the snorting of a horse, and now a man leapt from it, and that man was Eric Brighteyes.

“Is it thou indeed, Gudruda!” he said with a laugh, and his great shape showed darkly on the snow mist.

“Oh, is it thou, Eric?” she answered.  “I was never more joyed to see thee; for of a truth thou dost come in a good hour.  A little while and I had seen thee no more, for my eyes grow heavy with the death-sleep.”

“Nay, say not so.  Art lost, then?  Why, so am I. I came out to seek three horses that are strayed, and was overtaken by the snow.  May they dwell in Odin’s stables, for they have led me to thee.  Art thou cold, Gudruda?”

“But a little, Eric.  Yea, there is place for thee here on the rock.”

So he sat down by her on the stone, and Swanhild crept nearer; for now all weariness had left her.  But still the snow fell thick.

“It comes into my mind that we two shall die here,” said Gudruda presently.