So my father's turn came, and as he feasted with his ninety stout courtmen, the jarl landed under cover of the dark and fell on him, surrounding the house and firing it.

Then was fierce fighting as my father and his men sallied again and again from the doors and were driven back, until the high roof fell in and there was a sudden silence, and an end.
Then in the silence came my mother's voice from where she stood on the balcony of the living house across the garth {i}.

I mind that she neither wept nor shrieked as did the women round her, and her voice was clear and strong over the roaring of the flames.

I mind, too, the flash of helms and armour as every man turned to look on her who spoke.
"Coward and nidring art thou, Rognvald, who dared not meet Vemund, my husband, in open field, but must slay him thus.

Ill may all things go with thee, till thou knowest what a burning hall is like for thyself.