The story goes that she was so beautiful, that even the beasts shrank from mangling limbs so lovely with their filthy feet.

The king, divining that this proclaimed the innocence of his wife, began to repent of his error, and hastened to release the slandered lady.

But meantime Bikk rushed up, declaring that when she was on her back she held off the beasts by awful charms, and could only be crushed if she lay on her face; for he knew that her beauty saved her.
When the body of the queen was placed in this manner, the herd of beasts was driven upon it, and trod it down deep with their multitude of feet.
Such was the end of Swanhild.
Meantime, the favourite dog of Broder came creeping to the king making a sort of moan, and seemed to bewail its master's punishment; and his hawk, when it was brought in, began to pluck out its breast-feathers with its beak.

The king took its nakedness as an omen of his bereavement, to frustrate which he quickly sent men to take his son down from the noose: for he divined by the featherless bird that he would be childless unless he took good heed.

Thus Broder was freed from death, and Bikk, fearing he would pay the penalty of an informer, went and told the men of the Hellespont that Swanhild had been abominably slain by her husband.