“Aside from what I wrought in Lolland, the Danes have been at peace for many years,” Tosti said. “They’ve waxed rich, and they’ve gotten slack. We can strike and be off, again and again. Hadding grows old. His fire burns low. When we’ve reaved enough, he should be willing to buy us off. With such wealth we can go on to make ourselves lords.”

“No, your wits are aflight,” Koll answered. “Four viking crews, to hold at bay the mightiest king in the North?”

Tosti calmed him. “I did not say we should strike tomorrow, or soon at all. Let’s see how well we can do together.”

The upshot was that these bands wintered at that spot. In spring they set forth and harried widely. Having then based themselves on a holm they could defend, they spent the next winter building up their strength. Their gains, along with what Tosti had gotten from the killings among his own men, bought them two more ships and crews. The year after that they sought north and west as Koll had wanted to. There they won more than they lost.

Thus it went for five years altogether, while Denmark dwelt under Hadding’s peace. By then they led a dozen craft. “If we don’t now go after greatness, we never will,” Tosti said. “The old king yonder dodders toward his grave. His son will be a worse one to deal with. We’ll need time to make ourselves a match for Frodi.”

He had won Koll over. “Yes, I’m wearied of this rootless roving,” his partner said. “I’m ready for a home, where I can watch the sons I beget grow up and know they’ll remember me when I’m gone.”

Tosti bared his teeth. “And I’m overready for my revenge.”

Thus, early that summer, they took their fleet back across the North Sea.

They raised the hills of southern Norway and knew they were in the Skagerrak. Having rested a day ashore, they bore south of east for Denmark. The wind was fair, which seemed a hopeful sign, and they sailed steadily through a moon-bright night. In the morning they saw to starboard the heather and sands of the Skaw.

Then they saw what they liked less well, a score of long-ships with oars at work. Shields hung bright along rails, helmets and spearheads flashed aboard. Tosti uttered foul words. Koll yelled to him over the waves, “You told me there’d be no warders here!”

“Who could have known?” Tosti howled. “Strike sails and come about!” For the others were to leeward of them. Someone had been watching from land and laying his plans.