Gunnar shrugged. “Well, I’ve heard he’s a stingy one.”

Ax-Egil scowled. “He wasn’t unwilling to lay out for war on us, or in seeking our lord’s life.”

“I care not,” said Svein, “as long as his ale doesn’t run out: It’s been a thirsty day.”

Drink was forthcoming. The Danes drained the horns fast, then more slowly while they took off their mail No bathhouse could take so many, but kettles of water had been heated in the cookhouse and were brought in with washcloths. Having cleaned themselves, the warriors broke out fresh clothes. The servants carried in food, roast pork and other good dishes, which they ate rather hastily, for by then the sun was down and twilight thickening.

“Well, let’s begin on the ale in earnest,” said Hadding after things had been cleared away. “Our kingly hosts ought to join us soon.”

That time lengthened. An awkward silence fell over the troop. The fires guttered low, the night seeped inward.

Hadding was about to call for more wood and for lamps, when Svein cocked his head. “I hear something outside,” he said. “Like men afoot. Does anybody else?”

“So, the Ynglings—at last,” grumbled Einar.

“No,” said Svein. “Listen. They’re not coming straight to the front door. Some are going around. And they’re many.”

After a bit, others nodded. Hadding glared at the servants The stares he got back were bewildered, frightened. “Yes,” he muttered, “they’d not have been told. Not even young Hunding, I think.” The hair stood up on his arms.

“I’ll go see,” said Gunnar. He strode to the entry, out of their sight.

They heard a roar and a rattle. “Take your weapons!” Hadding shouted. He leaped for his own sword and shield.

Two more guardsmen ran after Gunnar. They saw him on the ground at the open door. He clutched at the spear driven through his belly, struggled to rise, and sank back. His blood throbbed forth to drench the rushes. Above him, the mail and helmet of a warrior caught the dim firelight from within. A sword hewed. It struck Einar’s bare head and clove the skull. Men behind pressed into the entry.

“Hold the doors!” cried Hadding. Danes snatched their arms. They went to stand at either end of the house. Battle crashed and snarled. Their fellows scrambled to get iron back on bodies.

“Help me up,” Hadding bade Egil. The old housecarle went to one knee. The king stood on the other thigh. From there he was fall enough to peer out a window, by starlight.

He stepped down. “A host is around us,” he said. “Uffi must have had most of them lurking in the woods. That means he readied them well beforehand, and had scouts posted to spy us coming and let him know. We’ve walked into a trap.”

“Best we break out of it, then, before he sets it afire,” Egil growled.