cried Helga , growing pale at the mere idea . ` Ride Gullfaxi ! Why father would never , never forgive me , if I let you do that . ' ` But it ca n't do him any harm , ' argued Sigurd ; ` you do n't know how careful I will be . I have ridden all sorts of horses at home , and have never fallen off not once . Oh , Helga , do ! ' ` Well , perhaps , if you come back directly , ' replied Helga , doubtfully ; ` but you must be very quick , or father will find out ! ' But , instead of mounting Gullfaxi , as she expected , Sigurd stood still . ` And the sword , ' he said , looking fondly up to the place where it hung . ` My father is a king , but he has not got any sword so beautiful as that . Why , the jewels in the scabbard are more splendid than the big ruby in his crown ! Has it got a name ? Some swords have , you know . ' ` It is called `` Gunnfjoder , '' the `` Battle Plume , '' ' answered Helga , ` and `` Gullfaxi '' means `` Golden Mane . '' I do n't suppose , if you are to get on the horse at all , it would matter your taking the sword too . And if you take the sword you will have to carry the stick and the stone and the twig as well . ' ` They are easily carried , ' said Sigurd , gazing at them with scorn ; ` what wretched dried-up things ! Why in the world do you keep them ? ' ` Bather says that he would rather lose Gullfaxi than lose them , ' replied Helga , ` for if the man who rides the horse is pursued he has only to throw the twig behind him and it will turn into a forest , so thick that even a bird could hardly fly through . But if his enemy happens to know magic , and can throw down the forest , the man has only to strike the stone with the stick , and hailstones as large as pigeons ' eggs will rain down from the sky and will kill every one for twenty miles round . '
Having said all this she allowed Sigurd XXXXX ride ` just once ' round the house , taking the sword and other things with him .
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