“Who art thou that bars the sea against me?”
“I am named Ospakar Blacktooth,” answered the great man.
“And what must we lose at thy hands, Ospakar?”
“But one thing—your lives!” answered Blacktooth.
“Thrice have we stood face to face, Ospakar,” said Eric, “and it seems that hitherto thou hast won no great glory. Now it shall be proved if thy luck has bettered.”
“Art yet healed, lord, of that prick in the shoulder which thou camest by on Horse-Head Heights?” roared Skallagrim.
For answer, Ospakar seized a spear and hurled it straight at Eric, and it had been his death had he not caught it in his hand as it flew. Then he cast it back, and that so mightily that it sped right through the shield of Ospakar and was the bane of a man who stood beside him.
“A gift for a gift!” laughed Eric. On rushed the Gudruda, but now the cable was strained six fathoms from her bow that held together the ships of Ospakar and it was too strong for breaking. Eric looked and saw. Then he drew Whitefire, and while all men wondered, leaped over the prow of the ship and, clasping the golden dragon’s head with his arm, set his feet upon its claws and waited. On sped the ship and spears flew thick and fast about him, but there Brighteyes hung. Now the Gudruda’s bow caught the great rope and strained it taut and, as it rose beneath her weight, Eric smote swift and strong with Whitefire and clove it in two, so that the severed ends fell with a splash into the quiet water.
Eric sprang back to deck while stones and spears hissed about him.
“That was well done, lord,” said Skallagrim; “now we shall be snugly berthed.”