CHAPTER I.HIGHTOWN UNDER SUNFELL.
When Biorn was a very little boy in his father's stead at Hightown he had a play of his own making for the long winter nights.

At the back end of the hall, where the men sat at ale, was a chamber which the thralls used of a morning--a place which smelt of hams and meal and good provender.

There a bed had been made for him when he forsook his cot in the women's quarters.

When the door was shut it was black dark, save for a thin crack of light from the wood fire and torches of the hall.

The crack made on the earthen floor a line like a golden river.