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"By Thor, this is passing strange," muttered the viking lord, whilst the rowers sat open-mouthed and wide-eyed. "'T is strange, and none who have not seen this will believe it." Then he said aloud —

"Tell me, Wanderer, what is it that thou dost seek so straitly?"

"The strongest and mightiest of lords," answered Wulnoth, "and so I have heard Regner Lodbrok called, and hither have I come seeking for him."

"And by the beard of Beorn, thou hast sought a right worthy lord," the viking replied. "For there is none more mighty than old Regner, Sigurd's son. But he is not in his hall now. Four moons ago he sailed to East Anglia and we await his message to join him. But his sons are in the hall, and Hungwar and Hubba are names known to men. Also there is the renowned Guthrun there, awaiting tidings from Regner. To these chiefs of fame thou canst make thy story known if thou desirest. But how comes it that thou ridest the waves in so strange a fashion?"

"Because I could get no man to let me have ship, all fearing to come too nigh your coasts."

"Ay," laughed the vikings, "they know our greetings are somewhat rough. But what of thy steed, Wanderer? Thou hast not told that!"

"The steed I found and rendered some service to, and for my payment he brought me over, as you see. Now shall I come into your ship, or shall I race you across?"

"A race, a race!" cried the vikings, and they bent to their oars, and they stretched the sail, and flew before the wind. But swift though they went, swifter still sped the sea-cow, and when they reached the land, there stood Wulnoth to greet them, and the sea-cow had gone back to the depths.

"Thou hast won the race, Wanderer," they said, "and never did man win in stranger fashion. Yet never mind that now. Come thou with us, and we will lead thee to our lords. And look that thou answer firmly and without fear, and in few words, for Hungwar loveth not long speech nor to be crossed, and the rod and the sword are his only words to any whom he thinks nithing."

"I am well content," answered Wulnoth. "Lead the way." And so to the sea-king's hall he was conducted.

Now, this is how Wulnoth crossed the swans' bath, and how he met the vikings, and was led to the presence of the Danish sea-kings.

CHAPTER VIII
Of what befell Wulnoth in the Halls of the Danes

In the great hall of Regner Lodbrok sat his two sons who ruled in his absence, together with many a great holda of Juteland and Denmark and other vikings from the North who had gathered with them. The room was long and low, and its oaken beams were black with age and smoke. Its walls were covered with skins and horns and trophies of the chase, and laden with shields and swords and other warlike gear.

Great torches, fixed in iron sconces, cast a smoky glare on the scene, and on the mighty hearth a huge fire of logs burnt, and the blue smoke curled upwards to escape through a hole in the roof.

The upper end of the room was slightly raised, and there, in carved chairs at a table which ran crosswise the width of the hall, the nobles sat quaffing the brown ale from their deep drinking horns.

There, side by side, Hungwar and Hubba sat, older and fiercer now than when Wulnoth had seen them lead the attack at Lethra, and they had been bad enough then.

Hungwar, the elder of the brothers, was shaggy as the bear, but Hubba was smooth of face save for his heavy moustache, and on Hungwar's cheek was a scar as of a sword cut.

And there also sat Bacseg, King of the North Danes, and Halfdane the Fierce, and Sidroc the Cruel, and Osbern, and Frena, and Harold, all viking lords, holdas of high birth and warriors of fame, and each was clad in his war gear, and each had his weapons ready to hand; for words were few and blows quick in those days, and even the feasting might become the warring before men could understand the cause of the quarrel.

Set crosswise to the table, and running down the length of the room like the longer line of the letter T, was another table, and here the soldiers and the lesser leaders sat at their feasting, and the place rang with shouts of laughter and wild jest, and ever and anon with the music of the harp and the song of the scald, singing the praises of one or other of the captains; and into this company was Wulnoth led by the captain of those whom he had met.

"How now, Wahrmund!" cried Hungwar as he caught sight of the captain. "So thou hast come back, thou old wolf; and what of thy voyaging, eh?"

"The voyage was quick and the task short, Hungwar," came the answer. "And the men of Osric are scattered and their homes given to the flame!"

"Good!" cried the leaders as they heard. "Osric will not defy our might again." And then Hungwar went on, staring at Wulnoth —

"But what flaxen-haired giant of the South have you here, Wahrmund? Is this a captive from the foe? That cannot be, seeing that he is unbound and has his sword by his side. Who is this giant, and what does he here?"

"By Thor, he is a goodly man to look upon," cried one noble, bending forward and staring at Wulnoth. "I love a man when I see one, and yonder one is."

Then he raised his horn and cried to Wulnoth —

"Waes heal, stranger of the blue eyes and yellow hair," and to him Wulnoth answered —

"Drinc heal, lord."

"Now, by Odin and his twelve companions," growled Hubba, "one would think that we have no men in Denmark, noble Guthrun, that thou must make so much of this berserker."

This Guthrun was a brawny, broad-shouldered giant himself, and his hair was plaited in two long plaits which fell on either side his face, and on his arms he had massy bracelets of gold. He seemed a good-humored man, for he roared with laughter at Hubba's words and made answer —

"Not so, Hubba. We be men enough, and therefore we should love all men, be they friend or foe – and, by my word, I love a good foeman. As for being berserker, this stranger is none the worse for that in my eyes so that he be a dealer of lusty blows."

"How came ye by this man, Wahrmund?" asked Hungwar, stopping what might have led to a quarrel. And all listened while the viking told his tale.

And when he was done Hungwar turned to Wulnoth, who had stood there erect and calm, and all eyes were bent upon him.

"This is a strange tale that we hear, stranger," he said. "So thou comest to us through the swans' bath, riding a sea-monster like a horse. By my faith, most of thy people – for surely thou art Saxon by thy eyes and hair – most of thy people, I say, rather shun us. Now tell us thy tale – for surely thou hast fled from some fate that thou didst deserve. Thou art nameless and landless, I'll warrant me."

"Or else I should not come to those who take land with their sword," answered Wulnoth, and at this the vikings laughed, and said that surely this was a merry fellow. But Hungwar frowned, and said sternly —

"Thou hast a sharp tongue, stranger, but we love sharp swords. Thou hast a quick word, but we love quick deeds."

"Blow and deed will be quick enough when the time comes," Wulnoth made answer, and he looked into Hungwar's face and noted the scar that his sword had made in the past. "For myself, I am the Wanderer, for I have wandered far in my search. For my place, I come from the North, whither I was taken in my childhood after that the sword of the Dane had harried our land. As thou sayest, I am landless and nameless, and, moreover, a thrall – though I have rent the thrall collar from my neck, having somewhat outgrown its size, and he who placed it there being dead. Yet that makes little difference to thee, seeing that it is said that thou lovest those who strike strong blows better than those who have noble blood."

"Be it as it may. Thou hast come to serve under me, then?" cried the Dane.

But to this Wulnoth said, "Nay. I am seeking the bravest, the mightiest, and the noblest in the world." And at that Hungwar frowned and smote the table.

"Thou dog!" he cried. "Am I not he?" And at that Wulnoth laughed.

"Why, Hungwar, did I say ay to that, I might have all the holdas here flying at me or falling upon thee. Nay, I seek one whose name is greater than even thine – I seek Regner Lodbrok, thy father." And at that all there cried that it was well, and that Regner Lodbrok was the champion of champions.

"So thou seekest to serve my father," sneered Hungwar. "Now, by my beard, he who seeks such honor must of the honor be worthy. If thou wouldst serve none but the bravest and mightiest, thou thyself must be brave and mighty."

"Wouldst that I match myself against thee, Hungwar?" asked Wulnoth calmly. And at that the holdas laughed, for they liked to see Hungwar baited; but Hungwar frowned darkly.

"Thou art over bold, Wanderer," he said. "The bloodhound runs not with the wolf."

"But the wolf sometimes pulls down the bloodhound, Hungwar," was the ready answer. "But enough of such talk. Thou desirest to see my strength. So be it. How shall we test it?"

Then Hungwar took up a block of wood and gave it to Wulnoth, saying —

"Let us see what thy sword is worth, Wanderer. Split me that block at one blow." And at that Wulnoth laughed mockingly.

"Too easy a task, Hungwar," he answered. "Far too easy. Let me see thee rend it asunder with thy naked hands."

"Thou art drunk, fool!" roared the Dane. "No man living may do that."

"We will see," answered Wulnoth, and placing the block carefully, he bent one knee upon it and gripped it with both hands, while all there rose to their feet to watch him. Then slowly and steadily he pulled, and the muscles of his arms and back stood out like ropes, and he thought within himself that his work with Osth was bearing fruit now. And as he pulled there was a sharp sound of rending wood, and the block fell apart in twain, while all there shouted till the roof rang at this great deed.

"Now, by my beard!" cried King Bacseg, "but we have a mighty man here. What sayest thou, Hubba?"

"Strong arms and strong wits go not always together. The bear is strong, but the fox beats him in cunning."

"Now, that may be," shouted Guthrun, "but we love strong arms rather than quick brains. Still, methinks the Wanderer is not slow of wit either – and he brags not as some do," he added to himself.

"What other task wilt thou set me, Hungwar, son of Regner?" asked Wulnoth. "Since I seek thy father's service, I am willing to prove that I am worthy of it." And Hungwar frowned, for, he knew not why, he felt hate for this stranger, and would gladly have put him to shame.

"Perchance the block was cracked," he said, "and I noticed it not." And Wulnoth smiled and answered —

"Perchance it was."

Then he picked up an iron mace, with the handle an inch thick, and he held it up.

"Some of you strike hard blows," he said. "Which, then, will sever this with a clean cut with one blow of the sword?"

"I will try," cried Guthrun, for he, like all the vikings, loved trial of strength.

So he took the mace and set it on the riven block, and with bared arms he lifted his sword high in the air and smote with all his force, and the sword bit deep into the iron, but severed it not.

Then tried Osbern, and after him tried Halfdane, and after him the Norse Jarl Eric, and after him Biorn Ironsides the Mighty, and not one of them could cut quite through the bar.

Then Wulnoth took his great sword, and he said, "Give me another bar, for this one is much cut now, and let it be stouter and stronger."

"This braggart shall not humble us," thought Hungwar, and he sent for his own mace, and the handle was nigh two inches thick.

"Canst cut that, boaster?" he said; and Guthrun cried out that it was not fair since 't was twice as thick as the other.

But Wulnoth swung high his sword, and the keen blade sang in the air like the scream of the gull as it flies before the storm. And lo, the iron was sheered in twain, clean cut, and the block beneath it split in two beneath the blow.

"Skoal to the Wanderer!" cried the vikings. "Worthy is he to be of our number!" But Wulnoth said —

"Wilt set me another task, O Hungwar?"

"By Thor, I will set thee a task!" cried Hubba fiercely. "All this is but child's play and has no danger in it. Come hither, Wiglaf."

Then uprose a mighty man, with bare arms and hairy, and he laughed grimly.

"What is thy pleasure, Hubba?" he asked. And Hubba said to Wulnoth —

"See here, Wanderer. This man is our mightiest boxer, and no man can stand a blow from his fist. Wilt thou exchange a blow with him?"

"That will I," answered Wulnoth. "Strike thou, Wiglaf."

"Not so," shouted Guthrun. "That were a poor test, for if Wiglaf strikes first, how shall Wanderer have strength to strike back? Let them fight one round if they will. By my father's name, 't will be a splendid sight to see."

"So be it," laughed Wulnoth. "I care not," and he and Wiglaf the Boxer faced each other.

"'T is a cruel man, Wanderer," whispered Wahrmund in Wulnoth's ear, "and he fights not over fair. Mind thyself, for he will kill thee if he can."

"If he can," answered Wulnoth; and then the fighters faced each other, and the vikings forgot their drinking horns and watched breathless.

For a little the pair feinted, and then Wiglaf rushed forward and smote a mighty blow like to have felled an ox. But Wulnoth caught it and turned it aside, and then he smote and Wiglaf could not avoid the blow, and though he caught it on his arm, there was a sound like as of a breaking stick, and the boxer's arm fell helpless, for the bone was broken.

Now all the vikings started to their feet and roared that Wulnoth was worthy to be of the best of them; and Hubba and Hungwar frowned, for they liked not men who could do more than they dared.

Then did Wulnoth rise, and he spoke and said —

"All the tasks that you have set me I have accomplished, O holdas. Now I will take a task upon my own shoulders, and if any of you dare try it, then do it first. See you yon beast?" and he pointed to the open beyond the door, where, in a fenced field, a great shaggy bull bellowed and stamped.

"Well, what of him, Wanderer?" cried Guthrun eagerly. "What new wonder canst thou show us? Only be careful of that brute, for he has killed five men already."

"Which of you will go and bring yon bull to his knees with hand, and hand alone?" Wulnoth asked. And Hungwar cried thickly —

"Thou fool, there is no man on earth can do it."

"That will we see," laughed Wulnoth lightly, and setting his sword aside, he leaped the rails and entered the bull's field, while all there crowded out to watch him, thinking that the stranger would of a surety be slain now.

And the bull glared at Wulnoth with bloodshot eyes, and lowered its massive head, pawing the ground and roaring deeply. Then, like a bolt, it charged, and the onlookers gasped, for they thought that now the daring man must perish. But quick as the bull moved, quicker still was Wulnoth, and he sprang aside and let the monster pass.

Then round wheeled the animal, but Wulnoth was ready at its side, and he gripped the wide-spreading horns and stood, and the bull stood pushing against him, both motionless, man and animal.

"Now, by Odin!" shouted Hungwar, "the man is in a poor case, for he cannot let go."

"And, by Odin!" shouted Guthrun, "he does not desire to let go. Look, look! who ever saw the like of this?"

For now Wulnoth put out his strength and did as he had been taught of old by Osth. First he pushed the bull backwards, and then he gripped tighter and swung mightily, and the bull was jerked off its feet; and then he twisted sharply, putting out every bit of his might, and the great beast cried in its pain and fell upon its knees, and all the fierceness was gone out of it.

Then did the vikings leap up and run to Wulnoth and lift him, and carry him round on their shoulders, crying "Skoal" to him. But Hubba frowned darkly, and bent towards his brother and whispered —

"I like not this fellow who has come to put us to shame with his strength. We must look to this, brother."

And to that Hungwar nodded, and answered back, "Even so. But the dagger may turn greater strength than this man's into weakness."

So the brothers spoke, and only Guthrun noticed and heard the words they said.

Now, this is how Wulnoth showed his strength before the Danish holdas, and this is how Guthrun knew that the sons of Regner planned evil towards the Wanderer.

CHAPTER IX
How the Sea-kings sailed for East Anglia

So Wulnoth tarried in the Danish camp, and the vikings greeted him as one of themselves, but old Wahrmund took him aside and whispered more than once that he should beware of Wiglaf the Boxer as soon as his arm was well.

"Wiglaf forgives no injury," he said, "and the greatest injury which thou canst do to him is to beat him fairly. Therefore beware of Wiglaf, O Wanderer."

"Surely a brave man should feel no bitterness against him who overthrows him in fair fight!" answered Wulnoth. But to that Wahrmund only said again —

"Beware of Wiglaf when he is recovered."

And that was not the only warning that was received by Wulnoth, for Guthrun the viking lord met him, having sought such a meeting, and he said to him grimly —

"Wanderer, I love a man who plays the man's game well and truly, but some there be who love thee not; and if thou takest my advice, thou wilt not tarry with the sons of Regner too long. Yet if thou hast desire for service, my ships have places for such warriors as thou art." And with that he went his way.

"Now," thought Wulnoth to himself, "truly this is a hard case for me. If I tarry here, I am like to come to harm; and if I tarry not, how shall I either meet with this champion Regner Lodbrok, or learn tidings of Prince Guthred my friend? Truly the Lord Guthrun seems more noble than these sons of Regner, and yet with them I must abide, methinks."

So for a week Wulnoth stayed there, and none sought to do him harm, and even Hungwar spoke fairly to him, having somewhat conquered his anger at Wiglaf's defeat.

But it was with Wahrmund that Wulnoth spoke most, for a friendship had grown between them, and very cautiously did Wulnoth question the viking, not letting him know the cause, and ask him if he remembered aught of the conquest of Lethra.

"That do I," answered the warrior, laughing deeply, "seeing that I fought there from first to last. And that same King of Lethra was a hero, and fought a good fight. Methinks sometimes that 't is a pity there is so much sword-singing between brave men. 'T is our trade, yet sometimes I think that peace time is the best. Yea, I remember Lethra, and I mind me of the anger of Hungwar because a boy – who by the way was a Saxon thrall to Jarl Berwulf – smote the champion with a broken sword, and left its kiss upon his cheek, as thou seest until this day. 'T was my hand that cut the boy down, but by Thor, he was a proper lad, and I have been sorry for it since."

"But there was another boy there, comrade!" said Wulnoth eagerly. "A son of Hardacnute. What was his fate?"

The viking looked at him sharply and pondered a moment.

"Wanderer, thou knowest far too much about Lethra for thy health, if thy questioning come to the ears of the holdas," he said sternly. "Thus I counsel to question none save me, and if thy questions may be answered with honor, then I will answer them. Dost know thou mindest me of that Saxon boy, full grown now? It might be ill for thee didst thou remind some we know of in this same way."

"Wahrmund," said Wulnoth quietly, "thou art a brave man and true, and now I will place my life in thy hand, for of a truth I am that boy – Wulnoth the son of Cerdic. Yet know, Wahrmund, that Cerdic was no thrall to Berwulf, for Berwulf murdered the Saxon jarl Tholk, and Cerdic refused to serve the Dane. And when Berwulf had him whipped, then he smote him with his own axe and fled, and, by Thor, 't was the deed of a man to do that!"

"Perchance so," answered the other, and then Wulnoth went on with his story —

"Now, Wahrmund, in those days did the son of Hardacnute make friendship with the outlaw Saxon boy, and they swore to live as brothers; and on the day when the evil came to Lethra – this was prophesied by a wise woman – Guthred the Prince made me swear that I would seek for him and aid him if might be; and for this reason am I come to the camp, that of him I might learn tidings if he is still alive."

"I remember the boy," the Dane answered. "And surely 't was a hard thing that was done to him by Hungwar and Hubba, for they sold him as a slave, though he was a king's son; and I have heard that his master took him to the land of the Anglo Saxons, though in what part of that land he dwells, if he be still alive, is more than I can tell."

"I thank thee for thy words, Wahrmund," answered Wulnoth, "and I trust thee with my story."

"Thou mayst trust me with it, Wanderer," answered the Dane. "So long as thou art true while thou dost stay with us, that is all I ask. If thou go into battle with us, fight for us and not for our foes; and if thou dost ever desire to depart, depart without striking secret blow – "

"As to that, the rede that I follow directed me to seek this camp and serve Regner Lodbrok; and so I have no desire to fight for your foes or against you."

"Regner tarries long in Angleland," the Dane said gloomily. "I would that he were back to lead us himself, for the camp is broken with so many holdas, and there is like to be mischief done ere long."

"Wahrmund," said Wulnoth, "canst thou tell me this? Dost thou know any people who worship not the gods of the North, but One who died on a cross?"

"Ay, that do I. 'T is the religion of most of the Anglo Saxons now. They have forgotten their old faith, and turned to this strange one. Yet it is a strange story, and one that touches the heart, Wanderer," he went on; "and it hath wondrous power with them, making them merciful to the foe and calm in face of torment and death. Some of our men have put their captives to sharp torture to make them renounce this God of theirs; but I have not known one succeed. They have killed their victims, but in dying the Christians – for so they call themselves – have sung songs of triumph. They are men indeed who can fight, and suffer, and die, and yet this creed is the creed of a nithing. 'T is beyond my poor wits, who know nothing of aught save the storm-sea and the sword-song."

"And this religion is in Angleland, and Guthred is in Angleland, and Regner Lodbrok is in Angleland also! 'T is strange. It points to my going there also"; and Wulnoth was silent, and mused on what he heard.

Then said Wahrmund, pointing out to the water: "What ship is this which comes speeding towards the land? Let us go down and see who these may be who come over the swan-bath thus."

So down to the shore they went, and the ship drew near; and it was but a small one, with a few rowers, and no shields hung on its sides; and yet as Wahrmund looked he started and cried —

"Now here are evil tidings; for of a surety yonder man at the helm is Bern, and Bern was the man of Regner Lodbrok."

Then the boat reached the land, and the men laid aside their oars and came ashore, and stood with drooping heads, as those who carried heavy tidings; and the viking cried —

"Oh, thou who art Bern, man of Regner Lodbrok, why comest thou thus, as they that flee in battle? and where is thy master, our Holda?"

"With those who feast in Walhalla," answered the seaman. "Lead me to Hungwar, or to his noble brother, for I have heavy tidings to tell; and the soul of Regner Lodbrok calls aloud for vengeance, for the nithing deed and the shame deed that were done to him."

"Now, by Thor," cried Wahrmund, "he will not cry in vain; for, if aught of wrong hath been done to Regner the son of Sigurd, the vikings will have a song to sing and a fire to light"; and, with that, Wahrmund turned and guided the man to the vikings' hall; and Wulnoth followed to hear what had befallen Regner Lodbrok.

And in the hall the holdas feasted; only some looked weary, for their souls hungered for the man's game, and they tired of tarrying on land; and when Hungwar saw Wahrmund enter, he cried —

"Greeting, Wahrmund! Whom dost thou bring, and why dost thou turn thy spear head down, as if evil had come to some?"

"Evil hath come, Hungwar," answered Wahrmund. "This man is Bern, who sailed with thy mighty father, and he hath ill news to tell to thee, O jarl." And then the chiefs looked up, and all voices were hushed; for they knew that the death-song had been sung for Regner Lodbrok, the old sea-king.

And then Hungwar said, while Hubba sat silent by his side —

"So the son of Sigurd is dead, and the death-song hath been sung. Then I will warrant that he died as a mighty hero, and that his sword sang merrily ere he fell, and the Valkyrs were busy. Is it not so, silent one? Speak and tell thy tale, lest I open thy lips with a touch of fire."

"I will tell my tale, Hungwar son of Regner," the man answered. "But it is a heavy one, and the telling of it is hard. No hero death did Regner die, but such a death as a nithing would have deserved; and yet he died a hero, and sang his death-song. By treachery and falsehood was he conquered, O Hungwar, and for vengeance does he cry to thee and to all thy people."

"Tell thy story, man," answered Hungwar grimly, "and be sure that the son of Sigurd shall not cry in vain. Truly, our swords are weary of idleness and our ships yearn for the waves. Tell thy story, and tell it true, all of it, neither more nor less."

"I obey thee," answered the man; and this is the story that he told. Eastward to Angleland had Regner Lodbrok sailed, with only a few men, chiefs of fame, for they had not meant to tarry in the land, but to see for themselves if it was a good land and fair, and worth the attacking. And on the eastern coast a great storm had come, and driven them on shore, so that the ship was wrecked and only a few escaped death. They were in the land of the East Angles, whereover one Edmund is king; and he at first received Regner and his companions with friendship, and gave them gifts.

Yet some of the people murmured because of the Danes being there; and Regner heard how in the north dwelt one Ella King of Northumbria, who was himself of Danish blood; and thither to greet him Regner went. But Ella liked not the coming of the stranger; for the Danes, who had settled in the north and taken possession of the land, desired that no more of their numbers should come to share the prize with them. So this Ella, though he received Regner with soft speech, yet purposed to do him harm, and plotted to take his life; yet in what manner to do so he did not know.

Now the King had built him a high tower, called Ella's Tower, and beneath this tower was a dungeon dark and drear; and into this dungeon did King Ella cause a number of deadly vipers to be let loose – for he had a mind to shame Regner Lodbrok as well as slay him, because that this Regner boasted, and made much of his having slain the dragon and rescued Thora the Fair from its power.

So when Regner and his friends sat at feasting, the soldiers of the King of Northumbria came upon them and put them to the sword; but Regner they took and bound, and cast into the vipers' tower, bidding him, since he had slain the dragon, slay also the snakes, which were less than the dragon. And the vipers bit the old sea-king deep and sore, so that he knew that his death was nigh, and none were there to sing his death-song.

And alone in the dungeon, with the biting vipers, Regner Lodbrok sang his own death-song; and the name thereof is Krakamal; and that song is known to this day amongst the sagas of the Northland; and that song he sang, while the darkness gathered, and the Valkyrs carried his spirit to Walhalla.²

Such was the tale that the messenger told in the hall of the sea-kings; and when the story was finished there was silence for a short space, and then uprose Hungwar, and Hubba rose and stood by his side, and Hungwar spoke and said —

"Oh, holdas of Denmark, ye have heard this story, and it is a shame tale; and the spirit of the son of Sigurd calls to my brother and to me, and bids us take vengeance on his foes. Now, those who list come, and those who will tarry, tarry; but, as for Hubba and me, we will cross the Westarweg and carry fire and sword into Angleland; and from south to north will we harry it. Now, viking lords, and sea-kings, who comes with us?"

Then did all there start to their feet, and then did their great swords flash out, as they cried Skoal to the memory of Regner Lodbrok; and with one mighty voice they answered and cried —

"We will come, sons of Regner. We will man our ships and come; and from south to north we will follow the footsteps of Regner Lodbrok, and leave a pathway of ashes and death; and then will we take this land for our own. But as for Ella, King of Northumbria, better for him that he had never lived, than that he fall into our hands. For each sting that the son of Sigurd received, he shall receive a thousand pains."

Then all was bustle and hurry in the realm; and each lord went his way to summon his own men, and to make ready his long ships; so that never before in all the land was so vast a fleet prepared, nor so great an army gathered, and in no history is there a full list of names of all the sea-kings who sailed to Angleland at that time.

There were Frena, and Guthrun, and Sidric the elder, and Sidric the younger, and Hungwar and Hubba, all jarls of fame. And there were Kings Godron and Halfdane, and Bacseg, and Hamond, and Oskettle – five kings of might; and Biorn Ironsides and many champions, so that one knows not all their names. And with them came many young warriors, the sons of holdas, seeking to make a name, and many old vikings who had spent their lives on the sea, and whose play was the man's game; and landless men, and nameless men, who had joined the vikings to seek their fortunes in land afar.

Never was such a scene; never did so many long ships lie like black snakes on the water; never did so many shields gleam like suns, as the light played upon them.

And in Hungwar's own ship they placed the great banner of Regner Lodbrok, which his daughters had woven and made in the space of one noontide; and thereon was the Raven of Odin, worked in cunning work; and it stretched its wings and stood erect, and all men shouted that the omen was good, and that victory would be theirs.