"You want to die, you came to the right man."

Husks a low voice from the back, the tall northman shouldering his way forward, and looks at the sword for a minute. Logen reaches toward the sword with his right hand, as though to take it. Instead, he brushes it aside then, surprisingly quick for a man who appears to be on the long side of thirty, his left hand dips down and snatches a knife from his belt, spiking it towards Jack's heart.

"All I was ever good for, anyway."