"The vows were not of the kind to be hastily forgotten," answered Leif, and looked in his brother's eyes. "You are, I suppose, not afraid of meeting Atle's sons on the sea?"
"I am not afraid," answered Ingolf, in a sharper tone; "but I would rather avoid hostility with Atle's sons."
Leif stood and looked down gloomily. When he had considered a little he said: "Atle's sons could easily suppose that we were afraid if, after what happened here in the winter, we gave up the Viking expeditions we had planned for the summer. I do not intend to give Holmsten reason to call me afraid. Do you, brother, decide for yourself what you will do. I shall go."
Ingolf was silent and considered the matter. He was in great perplexity. He hardly dared to let Leif go. On the other hand, he dared not hinder him either. He knew well that when Leif had once got restless he must get away. For himself, he did not like to run the risk of meeting Atle's sons. He had a presentiment that a collision was inevitable if their way crossed that of his brother. And in any case he wished to avoid lifting hand against Haasten. But the reason which especially kept him at home was, that he no longer trusted Haersten and Holmsten. If both he and Leif went away, they might both use the opportunity to carry off Helga. On such an occasion both his father and Rodmar might easily lose their lives, or be exposed to indignities which he would have to avenge. When Ingolf had come to a conclusion, he said: "I do not wish as matters now stand to leave our family and property without someone to look after them. I will no longer prevent your going since you have set your mind upon it. But it will cause me great anxiety to know that you are out on a Viking expedition with only three ships. For I cannot spare more men away from home. You may encounter Atle's sons, you may meet other hostile Vikings, or you may through want of foresight get involved in an unequal battle. I would rather, therefore, that you stayed at home, Cousin Leif. But if you will promise me not under any circumstances to engage in an unequal battle, as far as it is in your power to avoid it, I will not oppose your going."
Leif promised that willingly. He never thought about promises. He grasped Ingolf's outstretched hand and said: "I promise you to proceed cautiously. If I meet with danger or superior force, I will escape as well as I can. You need not be uneasy for my sake, brother."
Ingolf remembered that Leif had kept his word with regard to Atle's sons. There was no longer any reason not to put full trust in Leif's promises, even if, in accordance with his whole character, they were given a little hastily, and apparently without thought. And if only Leif kept his promise, there was no special reason to be anxious about him. In a battle which was not too unequal, he was safe enough, unless the Norns had destined his death, or Odin had marked him out. For against the gods and goddesses of fate the best man fought in vain. When the matter had been thus decided, Leif began seriously to prepare for the journey. The goods which Ingolf had collected at the beginning of winter completely filled three ships. All that remained was to select the crews and to take care to keep the ships fit for sailing.
When Leif told Helga that he was going, she merely nodded assentingly and smiled at him. But her quivering smile concealed bitter grief and great anxiety. Helga knew Leif—ah! she knew him. This Leif of hers was a man whom no bond could hold. That was his character. And she did not wish to spoil his happiness by seeking to hold him fast. Never should he guess what she suffered when she saw him sail away. Never would she mention her sense of loss and the anxiety she suffered during the time she must be without him. Separation and longing were integral parts of the happiness she shared with Leif. So young Helga smiled bravely and helped Leif with his preparations for the journey, giving him cheerful words on the way. But she never showed him her anxiety, and concealed her grief till she was alone.
One day in spring, when the wind blew freshly over the fjord, Leif sailed away with three ships. He stood on the poop and wondered that he had never thought before how hard it would be to part from Helga.
His old countryman clapped him on the shoulder and said: "On a voyage it is best to keep the salt water outside the ship."