"I had forgotten Liot," said Estein. "We will loose his bonds, and let him choose his weapons."
He found Liot sitting in the waist bound hand and foot. His eye was as firm as if he had been in his own hall, and he looked up indifferently as Estein approached.
"Do you remember me, Liot?" asked his captor.
"Ay, Estein. You, methinks, are one of the bairns I thought I had slain. Well was it for you that the Orkney tides run strong. But the luck has changed, I see; and you were a bold man, Estein Hakonson, to change it as you did. Why did you not burn us out?"
"Because I wanted you alone."
"Ay, torture is a pleasant game for the torturers. How do you intend that I shall die?"
"By my sword, if the gods will it. In an hour, Liot, we fight to the death. Our battle-ground is yonder holm, the weapons you may choose yourself; and meanwhile I shall loose your bonds, and if you wish to eat or drink you may."
A look of blank astonishment came over the Viking captain's face.
"This is a merry jest, Estein," he said.
"It is no jest.—Loose his bonds, men."