"He is in a black temper," they said. "We should best not talk to him."
So they made ready the boat in silence. Eric got into the pilot's seat and they sailed off. Soon they pulled the ship up on their own shore. Eric strolled into his house and called for supper. When the drinking-horns had been filled and emptied, Eric pulled himself up and smiled and shouted out so that the great room was full of his big voice:
"There is no friend like mead. It always cheers a man's heart."
Then laughter and talking began in the hall because Eric's good temper had come back. After a while Eric said:
"Well, I must off somewhere. I have been driven about from place to place, like a seabird in a storm. And there is always a storm about me. It is my sword's fault. She is ever itching to break her peace-bands[14] and be out and at the play. She has shut Norway to me and now Iceland. Where will you go next, old comrade?" and he pulled out his sword and looked at it and smiled as the fire flashed on it.
"There are some of us who will follow you wherever you go, Eric," called a man from across the fire.
"Is it so?" Eric cried, leaping up. "Oh! then we shall have some merry times yet. Who will go with me?"
"More than half the men in the hall jumped to their feet"