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Brightened by your sudden escape from an otherwise imminent flogging, you readily accept her conditions. The three of you set off back toward the village, Gudrun walking ahead in surly silence while Hilde strolls beside you and pelts you with questions. She first wishes to know about yourself, and then about Redbeard (whom you had mentioned in your earlier exposition), then gradually turns to the subject of the Chieftain--his house, his means, his temper, the nature of your service to him--and finally to Einar, of whose manners and character she seems particularly interested. You present him in a better light than perhaps he warrants, but that is only natural, given that he is, first, your master by law, and second, your brother in spirit. You advertise his strengths--cunning, wits and imagination, of which he truly has no equal in the village--yet this seems only to crease her soft, lovely face with ungainly furrows. Of his sword-skill you say little; of your own, through teasingly pressed, even less. It is pleasant to boast of a friend, for that elevates the advocate by association, but unflattering comparisons, however true, dishonors friendship, and dishonors oneself. Hilde, belonging to the sex whose "hearts were formed on a turning wheel", as they say, does not understand these subtleties, or if understand, finds them merely amusing. Her haughty laughter, even as it galls you, admittedly quite becomes her--a truth which vexes you all the more.
You reach the pavilion just as the conversation moves to its most salient theme: the Thing, and the reason for which the karls have assembled. But the girls are called away by a towering old man, who, though his reddened face announces clearly an otherwise discreet fury, seems still to yield to that anger's object with the greatest deference. So it is that Hilde, nonetheless, takes the opportunity to retreat with all her interests satisfied, without satisfying any of your own. You learn at least that the Jarl whom the Chieftain serves will be in attendance tomorrow, for so the old man addresses Hilde, as daughter of that Jarl, and where the daughter goes, the father cannot be far behind. But why the Jarl himself would grace this humble gathering only deepens its mystery.
You have some hours now before night falls and the festivities begin. You can see upon a field a ways from the pavilion some boys that have gathered for either mischief or sport. Einar is not among them, but you spot him soon enough chatting amongst the visitors. There's also much work to be done should you wish to make yourself useful.
>Join the other boys in their sport, whatever it may be.
>Join Einar and discuss with him all that has passed.
>Join the other thralls and busy yourself with work.
>Write-in
