into the sea.  Then the eagle and the swan met in battle, and the swan drove the eagle down and broke it with his wings, and, flying to the dove, comforted it.  But those in the house ran out and shot at the swan with bows and drove it away, but now he, Asmund, was not with them.  And once more the dove drooped.  Again the swan came back, and with it the raven, and a great host were gathered against them, and, among them, all of Asmund’s kith and kin, and the men of his quarter and some of his priesthood, and many whom he did not know by face.  And the swan flew at Bjoern his son, and shot out the sword of its tongue and slew him, and many a man it slew thus.  And the raven, with a beak and claws of steel, slew also many a man, so that Asmund’s kindred fled and the swan slept by the dove.  But as it slept the golden snake crawled out of the sea, and hissed in the ears of men, and they rose up to follow it.  It came to the swan and twined itself about its neck.  It struck at the dove and slew it.  Then the swan awoke and the raven awoke, and they did battle till all who remained of Asmund’s kindred and people were dead.  But still the snake clung about the swan’s neck, and presently snake and swan fell into the sea, and far out on the sea there burned a flame of fire.  And Asmund awoke trembling and left the Temple.

Now as he went, a woman came running, and weeping as she ran.

“Haste, haste!” she cried; “a daughter is born to thee, and Gudruda thy wife is dying!”

“Is it so?” said Asmund; “after ill dreams ill tidings.”

Now in the bed-closet off the great hall of Middalhof lay Gudruda the Gentle and she was dying.

“Art thou there, husband?” she said.

“Even so, wife.”

“Thou comest in an evil hour, for it is my last.  Now hearken.  Take thou the new-born babe within thine arms and kiss it, and pour water over it, and name it with my name.”

This Asmund did.

“Hearken, my husband.  I have been a good wife to thee, though thou hast not been all good to me.  But thus shalt thou atone:  thou shalt swear that, though she is a girl, thou wilt not cast this bairn forth to perish, but wilt cherish and nurture her.”

“I swear it,” he said.

“And thou shalt swear that thou wilt not take the witchwoman Groa to wife, nor have anything to do with her, and this for thine own sake:  for, if thou dost, she will be thy death.  Dost thou swear?”

“I swear it,” he said.

“It is well; but, husband, if thou dost break thine oath, either in the words or in the spirit of the words, evil shall overtake thee and all thy house.  Now bid me farewell, for I die.”

He bent over her and kissed her, and it is said that Asmund wept in that hour, for after his fashion he loved his wife.

“Give me the babe,” she said, “that it may lie once upon my breast.”

They gave her the babe and she looked upon its dark eyes and said: