In the entry Hadding unslung his sword and racked it, as was the usage with weapons. He carried a bundle he had along to the shutbed set aside for him, and unrolled fresh clothes from it. “Yes,” he said, “I’m more than ready for cleanness.”

A thrall in the bath poured water on red-hot stones. Hadding basked and breathed. As the hut cooled, the man dashed a bucketful over him while another brought in more heated rocks. After the third time, they toweled him dry and he came forth aglow. In a room alongside he dressed himself in green woolen breeks with kidskin cross-garters, calfhide shoes, tunic brocaded and marten-trimmed above linen shirt, silver-buckled belt and silver brooch at throat, gold coils on his arms, gold headband circling his well-combed locks. He entered the house smiling and sought Ulfhild out among her busy women.

“Well,” he said, “now I’m fit to meet with the children and see how they’ve grown since last. I’ve brought a few little things for them.”

“I’m sorry, father,” she told him. “I thought they shouldn’t be underfoot, and sent them off to stay with a crofter of ours.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll fetch them back before you go, of course. But first there’s this feast, and then tomorrow we’ll have everything to talk about, the three of us.”

“Yes.”

Hadding went over to where Gudorm sat, moodily whittling on a stick with his eating knife. “I gather you’ve more to take up with me than you’ve let on,” he said.

Gudorm’s gaze did not leave his hands. “We’ve met too seldom,” he mumbled.

“Maybe. I would like to hear about whatever hopes they are that have had you going up and down the kingdom.”

“You shall. Later.”

“As you wish. I’ve not forgotten that night under the boat.”

“Nor I.” Gudorm rose. “Forgive me, lord. I’d better see to things. They’ll soon bring out the tables.”

The winter day was well into its afternoon. Already the house was gloomy, high though the hearth fire crackled. One could not eat in seemly wise by flamelight, though drinking might well go on till sunrise.

Servants bore in the trestles and laid the boards across them. There was no high seat, but Hadding took his place at the middle of the platform bench along the south wall. Across the rush-strewn floor from him were Gudorm and Ulfhild. To right and left on both sides sat three or four men, clad in their rough best. They were the foremost of Gudorm’s caries, skilled smallholders in their own right, together with the most well off of his neighbors. He would have affronted those had he not asked them to come the first evening and meet the king.

Women went about pouring ale for them. Hadding whispered to one. She brought him something from his shutbed, wrapped in a cloth.