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When Sigurd heard this he turned white and red with wrath and fear. Fiercely he summoned his guards, and bade them seize the spy and cast him into the dungeon.

Then, as soon as words came, he turned to the company and said–

“You hear what this knave says?”

“Yes, we hear,” cried some, “and we rejoice that Sigurd’s day has come at last. Long live King Sigurd!”

Then Sigurd struck the table with his fist as he started to his feet and glared at the rash companions.

“Villains!” he shouted, with a voice that made the room itself tremble. “Yes, Sigurd’s day has come–the day for teaching cowards like you the duty of a knight and a brother. Ulf, at his bridal, unarmed, slain by traitors’ hands. Is that the chivalry ye praise? If so, begone from my sight and reach of this arm! But ’tis no time for talk. Without there, my arms! and saddle my horse!”

“What means this!” cried all. “Where go you, Sigurd?”

“I go to my brother,” he said.

“Your brother! Ulf is eight days’ sail from here!”

“‘Tis but five days across the forest,” said the hero.

At this the ladies shrieked, and all looked on Sigurd as a man that is mad.

“The forest, said you?” cried one. “It swarms with wolves, Sigurd, and where the wolves are not, the robbers lurk.”

Sigurd smiled scornfully. “It is wolves and robbers I go to seek,” he said.

“If thou wilt go,” they said then, “we will go with thee.”

“No!” cried Sigurd. “I go alone. Let him who loves me remain here and guard my lady. I can trust you to be true to a lady–but ye have yet to learn to be loyal to a prince.”

At this many hung their heads and were silent.

Sigurd meanwhile put on his armour, and turned hurriedly to bid farewell to his wife. The hero’s voice trembled as he prayed Heaven to guard over her.

They all accompanied him to the courtyard, where, quickly mounting, he departed, and rode slowly forward into the forest.

Sigurd rode slowly forward into the forest, and as he entered it he turned for one last look at the brave old castle which held within its walls the joy of his life–and a soft voice at his ear whispered “Return!”

Yet he halted not, nor did his courage waver, for another voice, louder than the other, cried “Onward!” It seemed like his brother’s voice, as he had known it years ago, before troubles came, and when as merry boys the two lived with but one heart between them. And at the sound he put spurs to his horse and plunged into the wood.

Gloomy indeed was this forest of lonely pines, which rocked and groaned in the wind, and in which a dim twilight deepening often into black darkness reigned on every hand. And gloomier still were those distant cries which rose ever and again above the tempest, and caused even the brave horse to shiver as he heard them.

But Sigurd shivered not, but rode forward, trusting in his God and listening only to that old-remembered voice ahead.

For a league the road was easy and the perils few. For thus far the woodman’s axe had often fallen amidst the thick underwood, clearing a path among the trees and driving before it the sullen wolves into the deeper recesses of the forest.

But as Sigurd rode on, and the boughs overhead closed in between him and the light of day, these few traces of man’s hand vanished.

His good horse stumbled painfully over the tangled ground, often hardly finding himself a path among the dense trunks. And all around, those wild yells which had mingled with the tempest seemed to draw closer, as though eagerly awaiting the horse and its rider somewhere not far off.

Sigurd heeded them not, but cheered himself as he rode on by calling to mind some of the beautiful stories of the old religion of his land. He thought of the elves and fairies who were said to dwell in these very forests, and at midnight to creep up from their hiding-places and gambol and play tricks among the flowers and dewdrops with the wild bees and the summer insects, or dance in magic circles on the greensward. And it did his heart good to feel he was not alone, but that these merry little companions were with him, lightening his way and guiding his course all the night through. And he thought too of luckless dwarfs whom Odin had condemned to dig and delve all day deep in the ground, and throw fuel on the great central fire of the earth, but who at night, like the fairies, might come above and revisit then old haunts. And even these mischievous little companions helped to cheer the heart of the wayfarer and beguile his journey.