And because there was no proof, our great earl, who loves even-handed justice, would have us cast adrift, even as was Lodbrok; that the guilty might suffer, and the innocent escape." Then Ingvar rose up, white and shaking with wrath, and drew out his sword.

Whereon Beorn yelled and fell on the floor, grovelling with uplifted hands and crying for mercy.
But the great jarl paid no heed to him, and hove up the sword with both hands over my head, saying in a hoarse voice: "Say that you lie--he is not dead--or you slew him!" Now I think the long struggle with the sea, or my full trust in the earl's words, or both, had taken away my fear of death, for I spoke without moving, though the great blade seemed about to fall, and the fierce Dane's eyes glared on mine.
"It were easy for me to have lied; I would that I did lie, for then Lodbrok would be living, and I beside him, waiting for Halfden my friend even yet." "Odin!" shouted Ingvar; "you speak truth.

Woe is me for my father, and woe to the land that has given him a grave thus foully." With that he let his sword fall, and his passion having gone, he sat down and put his face in his hands, and wept tears of grief and rage.

And I, as I watched him, was fain to weep also, for my thoughts were akin to his.
Now Hubba had sat very still, watching all this, and he kept his feelings better than did his fierce brother, though I might well see that he was moved as deeply.

But now he spurned Beorn with his foot, bidding him get up and speak also.