Oftenest they were in service. He had reckoned on this when he spared Dynaborg. Word got around that his was a dreadful band to fight against but sensible in peace and trustworthy. Kings throughout Gardariki needed men like that for their wars with each other and, still more, against the wild tribes that galloped in from the steppes. Traders needed guards for the laden fleets that yearly went down the great rivers and back up again. Hadding’s were worth high pay. To this they laid the plunder and ransom that were theirs after a victory: gold, goods, thralls, kine; and they learned shrewdness in selling such of these gains as they themselves did not want to keep. Those who lived brought home the means to buy farms, or whatever else they liked, and settle down well to do. Hadding became rich.

When he deemed he had enough, he began to spend his wealth on ships, weapons, stores, gifts to give, and the hire of men. Many a hard-bitten Northerner who had been knocking about Oardariki sought to him, and many an eager youth sprung from its own soil. He spoke carefully with each one, for his farings had taught him much, and chose the best.

He thought of attacking King Loker in Kurland, to avenge his friend Lysir and seize the hoard that was there But he heard that Loker was gone. He had taken a few men along into the wilds to hunt, and nobody ever saw them again. Folk said they must have suffered mishap; maybe a pack of wolves had overrun them. Hadding, who knew the ways of wolves, did not believe this. He wondered. This was a kittle thing. It was almost as if Loker had had something to do in the world and then, having done it, went elsewhere Hadding cast the thought from him. It was too outlandish.

Besides, his real aim lay across the sea. In the fifth year after he went from Denmark, he came back.

This was with a mighty fleet. Hulls in their scores decked the waves. Prowheads reared above gleaming shields and spears. Oars walked spidery, creaking, water aswirl aft of the stroke, now and then casting foam white into sunlight. When hills hove blue on the rim of sight, a whoop went skyward. The startled gulls whirled and mewed in clouds.

So great an undertaking could not be mounted without news of it getting to Uppsala. There King Svipdag had his seat. He sent the war-arrow around and met his foe with a fleet still bigger. Yet when Hadding saw it, he grinned. “Of all men you might pick to fight at sea,” he said into the wind, “I am the worst.”