I, Kjarre, son of Knut, have twice disgraced myself. First by running from the field of battle out of fear of dying. The shield I abandoned then rests on the bottom of that marsh, and there it will stay until Ragh nar Roog, as testimony of my cowardice. The second time was when Orn Two Heads convinced me to help him steal Holger Blackhand’s horn. Orn thought I’d sell the horn to smugglers, but I won’t. If I’m to live like a thief and a bandit, I prefer not to live at all. The one thing I can do to regain my honor is to return the horn to where it belongs, to its ancestral home. Mathios, who Holger charged with getting the horn back, has family near these cliffs. I hope he’ll come here for the equinox festival. Then I’ll be able to give him back the stolen horn and ask for him to vouch for me with the jarl. That’s all the hope I have left.