They bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through the press with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for the Bride had been brought into a house nigh the corner of the Market-place. But Face-of-god looked after his father as he went, and remembrance of past days came upon him, and such a storm of grief swept over him, as he thought of the Bride lying pale and bleeding and brought anigh to her death, that he put his hands to his face and wept as a child that will not be comforted; nor had he any shame of all those bystanders, who in sooth were men good and kindly, and had no shame of his grief or marvelled at it, for indeed their own hearts were sore for their lovely kinswoman, and many of them also wept with Face-of-god. But the Sun-beam stood by and looked on her betrothed, and she thought many things of the Bride, and was sorry, albeit no tears came into her eyes; then she looked askance at Folk-might and trembled; but he said coldly, and in a loud voice: ‘Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, or many a man will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a band of men at once from house to house.’ Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: ‘Wood-wicked was slain betwixt the bent and the houses.’ Said Folk-might: ‘Let it be Wood-wise then.’ But Bow-may said: ‘Wood-wise is even now hurt in the leg by a wounded felon, and may not go afoot.’ Then said Folk-might: ‘Is Crow the Shaft-speeder anigh?’ ‘Yea, here am I,’ quoth a tall man of fifty winters, coming from out the ranks where stood the Wolves. Said Folk-might: ‘Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score and ten of doughty men who are not too hot-headed, and search every house about the Market-place; but if ye come on any house that makes a stout defence, send ye word thereof to the Mote-house, where we will presently be, and we shall send you help. Slay every felon that ye fall in with; but if ye find in the houses any of the poor folk crouching and afraid, comfort their hearts all ye may, and tell them that now is life come to them.’ So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently departed with them on his errand. CHAPTER XLVII. THE KINDREDS WIN THE MOTE-HOUSE. THE din and tumult still came from the north side of the Market-place, so that all the air was full of noise; and Face-of-god deemed that the thralls had gotten weapons into their hands and were slaying their masters. Now he lifted up his face, and put his hand on Folk-might’s shoulder, and said in a loud voice: ‘Kinsmen, it were well if our brother were to bid the banners into the Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set itself in array before the said house, and abide till the chasers of the foe come to us thither; for I perceive that they are now become many, and are more than those of our kindred.’ Then Folk-might looked at him with kind eyes, and said: ‘Thou sayest well, brother; even so let it be!’