She is yours already. You drove her ashore, and the honour falls
to us. We should only make a big fire of her and dance round it.
Where is the other?"

"Your men took her round the bend below. There will be no more
trouble with Heidrek. We have his son, Asbiorn, here with us."

"Give him to me," said Dalfin at once; "give him to me, King Hakon.
I owe him much for a good turn he did me and Malcolm here, and I
cannot see him a captive."

"Malcolm and Bertric have claimed him already," said Hakon, with a
smile. "He is yonder, and has taken service with me, and I think I
must keep him."

"That is all one could want for a man," answered Dalfin. "Now, I
have to ask if you will go ashore and meet my father. He would also
see my two comrades, and, if it may be so, Queen Gerda."

But Thoralf would not hear of the king going ashore, nor would Earl
Osric. Gerda, too, shrank from facing the wild crowd of warriors
and the sights of the field which she needs must see more or less
of. Nor did Dalfin press the matter, for he knew that any little
spark might be enough to rouse the wild Irish against the Norsemen.
It was but a chance that Hakon had played the part of an ally. So
in the end Bertric and I went ashore with Dalfin and the two
hermits, as an embassy, so to speak, to represent Hakon.

We had a good welcome at all events, I suppose because men had
heard the tale of our voyage and wreck, and maybe of how Hakon
saved the hermits at last. Phelim had spoken thereof when he and I
went ashore just now, and word passes swiftly without losing in the
telling. They took us up through the village to the camp, and there
a tent was pitched, large and open in front, as the court of the
king.

The enclosure swarmed with men, wilder than any I had ever seen,
and picketed rows of most beautiful horses were along one side.

It was a strange court. The nobles were dressed in black or dull
saffron-coloured tunics, with great, shaggy cloaks of the natural
hue of the wool they were made of, and but for the rich gold
ornaments they wore on their arms and necks, there was little to
choose between their attire and that of their followers. Not one
wore mail, but their swords were good, and their spears heavy and
well cared for. As for helms, they had no need of them. Their hair
was amazingly thick and long, and was massed into great shocks on
their heads, and might turn a sword stroke. Even Dalfin had twisted
his up into somewhat like what it