Yet the voice that issued from them was not her own voice, but that of a deep-throated man, who spoke with a strange accent.
Next came the answer in the voice of Freydisa.
"I, your virgin, seek to know the fate of him who stands by the altar, one whom I love." For a while there was quiet; then the first voice spoke, still through the lips of Freydisa.

Of this I was sure, for those of the statue remained immovable.

It was what it had always been--a thing of wood.
"Olaf, the son of Thorvald," said the deep voice, "is an enemy of us the gods, as was his forefather whose grave he robbed.

As his forefather's fate was, so shall his be, for in both of them dwells the same spirit.
He shall worship that which is upon the hilt of the sword he stole from the dead, and in this sign shall conquer, since it prevails against us and makes our curse of none effect.

Great sorrow shall he taste, and great joy.