“Yes, he is dead, but all men die. Cattle die; all that draws breath will one day fail. He fought well, and so he died well. All that lives on is our battle-fame, and this…” He shook the helm at Varg. “This tells your tale. That on this day Varg No-Sense bested a mighty druzhina of Iskidan.” His mouth twitched in a smile. “Even if his spear was still capped and his helm was on his belt and not his head. This is sounding like a saga-tale to be sung around the hearth fire, no?”
