had it not been for the dog, I think the fate of Lodbrok would have
been unknown for many a long day, for but for him Beorn would have
hidden his deed and ridden off before I had known aught.

Now, as the man handled the broken arrow, walking beside me, I saw
it plainly, and knew it for one of my own, and one of four that I
had lost at Thetford, though I did not know how.

At that I seemed to see all the plot, and my heart sank within me,
for this Beorn was most crafty, and had planned well to throw doubt
on me if things by ill chance fell out as they had, and so I rode
in silence wondering what help should come, and whence. And I
thought of Halfden, and what he should think when he heard the tale
that was likely to be told him, and even as I thought this there
was a rushing of light wings, and Lodbrok's gray falcon--which I
had cast from my wrist as I fell on Beorn--came back to me, and
perched on my saddle, for my hands were bound behind me. She had
become unhooded in some way.

Then Beorn cried out to the men to take the falcon, for it was his,
and that he would not have her lost; and that angered me so that I
cried out on him, giving him the lie, and he turned pale as if I
were free and could smite him. Whereon the men bade us roughly to
hold our peace, and the leader whistled to the falcon and held out
his hand to take her. But she struck at him and soared away, and I
watched her go towards Reedham, and was glad she did so with a sort
of dull gladness.

For I would have no man pass through a time of thoughts such as
mine were as they took me to Caistor--rage and grief and fear of