"The Voluspa, the shamaness, had foretold he would gain his vengeance but lose something precious.

He had thought long on this. What was most precious to him? His

hound? His horse, His boat ? His sword?

Did she really mean something solid; or something more elusive, his boldness, his courage?

What could she mean?

"All prophesies were like that," said Ulf the oarsman, "unclear, tricky."