“I saw Queen Signy on a trading voyage I made,” said another man. “She had wedded the king of Dynaborg in Gardariki. A kinsman of his later overthrew him, and I hear she killed herself rather than give up her standing as she had done aforetime or go in the bed of her husband’s slayer as Queen Gro did. It seems me that something of her shows in you.”

“Be welcome, then!” roared Lysir “Ale! We’ll drink to the Skjoldung!”

Men heard and came over. Soon the whole viking host was aseethe. A great feasting began, horns hoisted freely. By leaping firelight, which touched smoke with a hue of blood, Hadding stood forth against the dark and told what had befallen him. Waves rushed and beat under his words.

“This is no small thing,” said Lysir at the end. “King Svipdag will not be glad when he hears of it.”

Gangleri’s eye gleamed from below his hat as the old one stood offside among shadows, leaning on his spear. “Do you fear his anger?” he asked.

Lysir shook his head fiercely. “Thor thunder me if I do! Too long has he laid too heavy a scot on us Danes, and meanwhile our farms and fisheries give niggard yields—maybe worst here in Scania, where we’re closer to him in his Uppsala.”

“More folk than Danes bear him ill will,” said a skipper. Swedes and Geats had come to this meeting place too. “But he’s a mighty lord, as Jarl Gudorm learned.”

“Either you crawl before him and cast Hadding out,” Gangleri told them sternly, “or you plight yourselves to the son of Gram.”

Lysir nodded. “We’ll talk about that in the morning,” he said. “First, let’s drink once more to the gods. May they send us wisdom—and luck, which is better.”

Men woke late and agreed they should let their heads clear before they decided. Thus the fleet stayed aground through that day and night. In the afternoon the vikings gathered. Not all were eager to risk King Svipdag’s wrath. However, none wanted to go home at once. Nor need they swear any oath, except that they would take Hadding as one of themselves while on this voyage.

Lysir went further. Not only did he give the young man a full outfit of clothes and gear, he swore brotherhood with him. They two gashed their arms and each let his blood fall into the footprints of the other.

This laid a bond on the men from the chieftain’s household. No few of the vikings then cried that they too would take up weapons for Hadding, should he ever call on them. If he won, great honor and riches would be theirs. If he lost, belike they would die, but so everybody must. All that lasts is the fame a man leaves behind him.