Then Sinfiotli led the way to a storehouse where lay great
wine-casks, and whence they could see the lighted feast-hall, and
hear the clamour of Siggeir's folk. There they had to abide the time
when the feasters should be hushed in sleep. Long seemed the hours to
Sinfiotli, but Sigmund was calm and clear-eyed.
Then it befell that two of Queen Signy's youngest-born children threw
a golden toy hither and thither in the feast-hall, and at last it
rolled away among the wine-casks till it lay at Sigmund's feet. So the
children followed it, and coming face to face with those lurkers, they
fled back to the feast-hall. And Sigmund and his foster-son saw all
hope was ended, for they heard the rising tumult as men ran to their
weapons; so they made ready to go forth and die in the hall. Then on
came the battle around the twain, and but short is the tale to tell,
for Sinfiotli slipped on the blood-stained floor and the shield wall
encompassed Sigmund, and so they were both hoppled strait and fast.
The Goth-folk washed their hall of blood and got them to slumber, but
Siggeir lay long pondering what dire death he might bring on his foes.
Now at the first grey dawning Siggeir's folk dight a pit and it had
two chambers with a sundering stone in the midst. Then they brought
the Volsung kindred and set them therein, one in each chamber, that
they might abide death alone, and yet in hearing of one another's woe.
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