Then his face grew very black, and he growled: "Bad we are, but not
so bad as Arnkel, who would have men think him an honest man. Now,
if it were but to get in one fair blow at him for this, it were
worth joining Hakon. I take it that he will hear your tale--and
maybe mine."

"And the lady's also," Bertric answered. "Well--wait until you know
what befalls your ships."

"And my father," answered Asbiorn, getting up and looking ahead.
"To say the truth, I am not altogether sorry of an excuse to leave
that company, which is bad, though I say it. Yet he was driven out
of his own home by his foes, and thereafter his hand has been
against all men. It is the crew he has gathered which I would
leave, not him."

We had not gained on the two pirate ships. Now they were rounding
that headland whence they had come, and were altering their course.
Asbiorn said that they were making for the river mouth, and half an
hour thereafter we opened it out and saw that Heidrek was far
within it, heading landward. The beacon fires blazed up afresh as
the watchers knew that he had returned, and presently each fire had
a second alongside it. Men thought that Heidrek had brought us to
help him raid the land.

There were Norsemen on board, men from Dublin, who knew the mouth
of the river as well as need be, and better than Heidrek, who had
been into it but this once before. One of them piloted the ships
after him, for Hakon meant to end the business even as he had said,
here and now, if he could, and sent for Bertric that he might tell
him more of the enemy. He heard somewhat of our story at this time,
we sitting on the after deck with him, but he said little about it
then.

I suppose that we stood into the river over the falling tide for
five miles or more. Then Heidrek took to his oars, finding that he
was chased in earnest, and Hakon did so likewise at once. It was a
beautiful river, wide and clear, with great, green hills on either
side, and thick forests at their feet. But never a boat on its
waters, or man on its shores did we see. Only from each hilltop the
smoke of the war beacons rose and eddied.

The channel narrowed presently as we held on, going with all
caution. Then we opened out a wide valley, down which ran a fair
stream, and there we saw the Irish at last. High up they were,
crossing the valley in a column of black-garbed warriors which
seemed endless. There was no sparkle of mail among them, but here
and there a spe