Nothing happened for a while; the days passed quickly. It was near three weeks gone before Rágn returned.

Two of the men that had left with him were gone. He himself was going at such a pace that his horse was streaming trails of sweat into the air behind it, heaving. The others followed him up, one falling off his steed as it slowed to a stop and groaning when he hit the ground.

Rágn ran to Yrnhold, and near collapsed on the ground.

" We have been rebuked, and cut off," he gasped out. " Gottr and Belhold defected from me. We left only under peril. One of Calsar's bands rides close behind us."

Sif had never seen him in such a state, and was shocked, feeling cold as the women took him in to rest.

In short order, then, Yrnhold was ordering the men around, having the livestock brought in and the houses barricaded.

" Lord Hélna, you must go somewhere safe-" Yrnhold began to order him; and for all this authority he displayed, Sif could not bend to him. He was outraged at the insult to himself and his people, and on behalf of the sullen, starved people he had seen across the river.

" I am going nowhere," Sif said. " Give me Rágn's bow and spear, and I shall fight."

Yrnhold stared him down for a moment, and then acquiesced.

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