"Singlehanded," said Ulf.
"A shaft to each leg, then spear to the throat and axe to the brain."
Then said the King, significantly,
"If I have eleven other bearskins, am I not eleven times the better able to know its worth? It is a gift for a King!" and Ulf was content.
And History tells that in after days, when King Knut wanted to make an especially valuable gift to the Minster of Crowland, he could think of nothing richer than twelve great white bearskins, one for each of the twelve Apostles. I like to believe that one of them had a deep cleft in the back of the head, where Ulf's axe sank in. But I think Knut knew the value of a good steel weapon too well to give that away, for we read in another book that such an axe once owned by him was handed down till Harold of England owned it, and with it he cut to pieces a suit of armour hung on a post, by way of showing his strength to the King whose guest or prisoner he was—for at the time he was a little of both. And every stroke slashed that armour in such great holes that I think the axe that did it must indeed have been of Star, or nickel steel, and of itself a gift for a King!
For many a day Ulf dwelt with the King, and even sailed to Denmark with him for a space.
At last the time came for Knut to return to England, the larger country, where he lived for most of his reign, and Ulf went back with him and Edith with Ulf, of course. A mighty fleet sailed also,—never had either of them seen so many ships before,—and when the roll of the oars in the rowlocks came slipping over the glassy sea it rumbled like muttered thunder. Stirred by the sound, here and there the wilder blades among the crews remembered old war-days, and struck up the Northmen's warsong, the laughing, murder-singing "Yuch-hey-saa-saa- saa," that had carried terror with it to the lands beyond the water; and the trading vessels within hearing swung hastily southward and rowed away for dear life, fully believing that war had come again.
SPARK IX.
HOW THE STAR HELPED TO WIN A THRONE.
And war did come in time. Four kings rose and fell in Ulf's own lifetime. England was one great battlefield for many a year after Knut had died. Harold, Harthaknut, Eadward, and yet another Harold, one after another had their little say, and their own troubles,—the troubles of kings who know no better cure for them than war.