e harp went
round, that those who could might sing, and all the talk in hall
was hushed to hear Eadmund himself, the men setting down ale cups
and knives to listen, for he had a wondrously sweet voice, and sang
from the ancient songs of Caedmon {iv}. Then I sang of the
sea--some song I had made and was proud of, and it pleased all. And
at length we looked at Lodbrok, wondering if he could take his
turn.

"Fain would I try to please my host," he said, looking a little
wistfully at my father; "but a man swept far from home against his
will is no singer."

Then Eadmund pitied him, as did we all, and rose up.

"Feasting is over, thanes," he said. "Let us sit awhile in the
other chamber and hear Lodbrok's story."

For he would ever leave the hall as at this time, so that the
housecarles and lesser guests might have greater freedom of talk
when we were gone.

So we rose up, and as we did so I saw Beorn, the falconer, look
sourly at Lodbrok; and it misliked me that he should harbour any
ill will even yet against the Dane who had done him no wrong.

Round the fire we sat; some ten of us in all, for Bishop Humbert
and his folk went to their lodgings in the town, and there Lodbrok
told the king of his voyage.

And when he named his sons, Eadmund looked grave, and said:

"I have heard of those two chiefs, Ingvar and Hubba. Did they not
make a raid into Northumbria two years ago? Maybe they are yet
there with the host."

"Aye," answered Lodbrok, seeming to wonder at the grave face of our
king; "they went to Northumbria with the host that is yet there.
They fought well and bravely at the place men call Streoneshalch
{v}, gaining much booty. And it was by Ingvar's plan that the
place was taken, and that was well done. But they left the host
with their men after that, saying that there were over many leaders
already."

Now we all knew the cruel story of the burning of that place; but
Northumbria was a far-off kingdom, and with it we had naught to do.
So, except perhaps the king, the rest of us were as little moved as
if he had spoken of the taking of some Frankish town; for if my
father thought more of it, being in the king's counsels, he passed
it over.

"These sons of yours have a mind to be first then," he said
lightly.

"Seeing that the blood of Ragnar Lodbrok is in their veins it could
not well be otherwise," answered the jarl somewhat grimly.

Then he ended his tale, and the king was greatly pleased with him,