ing journey
to the Thing. In the great hall of the house, his father held earnest
discussion with Ulf. The house-carles busied themselves in burnishing
their mail and sharpening their weapons, while Ada and Hilda assisted
Dame Astrid, Ulf's wife, to spread the board for the evening meal.

Everything in the hall was suggestive of rude wealth and barbarous
warlike times. The hall itself was unusually large--capable of feasting
at least two hundred men. At one end a raised hearth sustained a fire
of wood that was large enough to have roasted an ox. The smoke from
this, in default of a chimney, found an exit through a hole in the roof.
The rafters were, of course, smoked to a deep rich coffee colour, and
from the same cause the walls also partook not a little of that hue.
All round these walls hung, in great profusion, shields, spears, swords,
bows, skins, horns, and such like implements and trophies of war and the
chase. The centre of the hall was open, but down each side ran two long
tables, which were at this time groaning with great haunches of venison,
legs of mutton, and trenchers of salmon, interspersed with platters of
wild fowl, and flanked by tankards and horns of mead and ale. Most of
the drinking cups were of horn, but many of these were edged with a rim
of silver, and, opposite the raised seats of honour, in the centre of
each table, the tankards were of solid silver, richly though rudely
chased--square, sturdy, and massive, like the stout warriors who were
wont to quaff their foaming contents.

"I tell thee, Ulf," said Haldor, "thou wilt do wrong to fare to the
Thing with men fully armed when the token was one of peace. The King is
in no mood just now to brook opposition. If we would save our
independence we must speak him smoothly."

"I care not," replied Ulf gruffly; "this is no time to go about
unarmed."

"Nay, I did not advise thee to go unarmed, but surely a short sword
might suffice, and--"

At this moment Erling entered, and Ulf burst into a loud laugh as he
interrupted his friend: "Aye, a short sword--something like that," he
said, pointing to the huge hilt which rose over the youth's shoulder.

"Hey! lad," exclaimed his father, "art going to fight with an axe in one
hand and a sword in the other?"

"The sword is for Glumm, father. I owe him one after this morning's
work. Here, friend Glumm, buckle it on thy shoulder. The best wish
that thou and I can exchange is, that thy sword and