ighteyes was an inch taller than the tallest, and
measured half a span more round the chest than the biggest.

"What wouldest thou of me, Icelander?" asked the King.

"This, lord," said Eric: "to serve thee a while, and all my men with
me."

"That is an offer that few would turn from," answered the King. "Thou
shalt go into my body-guard, and, if I have my will, thou shalt be near
me in battle, and thy wolf-dog also."

Eric said that he asked no better, and thereafter he went up with Edmund
the King to make war on the Danes of Mercia, and he and Skallagrim did
great deeds before the eyes of the Englishmen.

That winter Eric and his company came back to London, and abode with
the King in much state and honour. Now, there was a certain lady of
the court named Elfrida. She was both fair and wealthy, the sweetest of
women, and of royal blood by her mother's side. So soon as her eyes fell
on Eric she loved him, and no one thing did she desire more than to
be his wife. But Brighteyes kept aloof from her, for he loved Gudruda
alone; and so the winter wore away, and in the spring he went away
warring, nor did he come back till autumn was at hand.

The Lady Elfrida sat at a window when Eric rode through London Town
in the King's following, and as he passed she threw him a wreath of
flowers. The King saw it and laughed.

"My cold kinswoman seems to melt before those bright eyes of thine,
Icelander," he said, "as my foes melt before Whitefire's flame. Well, I
could wish her a worse mate," and he looked on him strangely.

Eric bowed, but made no answer.

That night, as they sat at meat in the palace, the Lady Elfrida, being
bidden in jest of Edmund the King to fill the cup of the bravest, passed
down the board, and, before all men, poured wine into Eric's cup, and,
as she did so, welcomed him back with short sweet words.

Eric grew red as dawn, and thanked her graciously; but after the feast
he spoke with Skallagrim, asking him of the Gudruda, and when she could
be ready to take the sea.

"In ten days, lord," said Skallagrim; "but stay we not here with the
King this winter? It is late to sail."

"Nay," said Eric, "we bide not here. I would winter this year in Fareys,
for they are the nighest place to Iceland that I may reach. Next summer
my three years of outlawry are over, and I would fare back homewards."

"Now, I see the shadow of a woman's hand," said Skallagrim. "It is very
late to face the northern seas, and we