By this time they were drawing near the bay at Ulfstede, and Erling urged on the rowers, for they could see that Harald’s ships were now cast loose, and giving chase to those that endeavoured to escape, while several of the largest, including the Dragon, made direct for the land.
“Our whole effort now,” said Haldor, “must be to rescue the women.”
“That will not be easy,” observed Ulf gloomily.
“But it is not impossible,” said Erling with decision. “We shall have time to get into the woods, and so round to the cave. By the way, does anyone know aught of Hakon of Drontheim?”
“He is dead,” said Glumm.
“Dead!”
At that moment Haldor started up with a wild exclamation, and pointed towards the spot on which his own dwelling stood, where, above the trees, there arose a cloud of dense black smoke. The truth was soon all too plain, for, on rounding the point which had hitherto concealed the bay from their view, several of the enemy’s largest ships were seen with their bows on the shore. It was evident that part of the left wing of the enemy, which was first victorious, had, unobserved by them, made for the shore, and landed a large force of men, who had hastened to Ulfstede, and, finding it deserted, had pushed on to Haldorstede, which they had set on fire.
“Now indeed would death be welcome!” cried Haldor, stamping fiercely on the deck, while every feature of his face blazed with wrath.
We need scarcely say that the hearts of all had sunk within them, but Erling said—“Death would be unwelcome yet, father. The men, no doubt, are killed, but be sure they will not hurt the women while King Harald is on his way to the stede. We may yet die in defending them, if we cannot save them.”
“True, my son,” said Haldor, clasping his hands, and looking upwards with a solemnity of expression that was in strong contrast with his recent burst of passion; “we may perchance save them, as thou sayest; but woe is me for poor Alric!”