"Drunk," muttered Helgi. "I wager my gold-handled sword he is drunk. They have ale enough on board to float the ship."
"A sail!" Estein exclaimed, pointing to a promontory to seaward round which the low black hull and coloured sail of a warship were just appearing.
"Ay, and another!" said Ulf.
"Three-four-seven-eight!" Helgi cried.
"There come nine, and ten!" added Estein. "How many more?"
They watched the strange fleet in silence as one by one they turned and bore down upon them, ten ships in all, their oars rhythmically churning the sea, the strange monsters on the prows creeping gradually nearer.
"Orkney Vikings," muttered Ulf. "If I know one long ship from another, they are Orkney Vikings."
Meantime Thorkel's ship had drawn close alongside, and its captain hailed Estein.
"There is little time for talking now, son of Hakon!" he shouted. "What think you we should do?—run into the islands, or go to Odin where we are? These men, methinks, will show us little mercy."
"I seek mercy from no man," answered Estein. "We will bide where we are. We could not escape them if we would, and I would not if I could. Have you seen aught of the other ships?"