When Hadding came back from Svithjod, he brought little booty to lay aside. Rather, he would withdraw gold and goods. He must make gifts with a free hand as he fared about the kingdom, so that men would willingly follow him to the war he meant to renew next year.

He went to fetch the wealth on a summer’s day. Half a score of his housecarles came along to carry and guard it. Through the open gate of the stronghold they saw young grain ripple in the wind, cows graze red in green paddocks, a fen where storks were stalking frogs. Beyond lifted a wood, bright in its rustling crowns, shadowy below. A hawk hovered far aloft. It hurtled downward at a prey just as Hadding reached the storehouse.

His hoardkeeper met him at the outer door, a man once burly but now swag-bellied, nose thrusting bluish-ruddy from above white whiskers, garb none too clean. “Hail, lord,” he greeted a little thickly.

“Hail to you, Glum,” answered the king. “How fare you?” The oldster had served Svipdag before him, but Hadding kept him on because he had served Gram before then, and there seemed no grounds for distrusting him.

“Well enough, well enough, since the weather got warmer,” said Glum. “Come in, my lord. I’ve a jug of mead here, not the best in Denmark but the best a poor gaffer can pour for his lord.” He hiccoughed.

Hadding frowned. He had heard something about how often Glum was drunk. Hitherto he had lacked time to look into it. “No, I’ll only take what I came after,” he said curtly and brushed past the other into a front room. For a bit he was nearly blind in its murkiness, after the light outside. Then he saw how dirty and tumbled things were. “Have you no one to keep house here?” he asked. “This is unfitting for the treasures.”

“The wench has not come for some while,” Glum told him. “I, uh, did not want to trouble my lord about so small a thing.”

“I know why,” snapped a guard. “Thorid, who had the task, told me; we’re kin. She’s no thrall, she’s a freeman’s daughter, and would not have this old guzzler pawing her anymore.”

Glum tried to draw himself straight. “Have a care,” he said. “I’m a well-born man, I’ve been a warrior, I keep a post of honor. Have a care how you speak of me.”

“He did,” Hadding broke in. “Too much care. Why did you not let me know, Einar?”

The chief guardsman bit his lip. “Maybe I should have, lord. But we all had much else on our minds, no? I thought we lesser folk could settle things here quietly, without pestering you and without shaming an old man who used to bear a good name.”