"Try me!" exclaimed Ned. "I am better with a sword than with a spear."
Then he remarked, to himself:
"I don't believe he ever had a better fencing-master than I did. We'll see."
They were soon at the house, and, to Ned's surprise, it was old Vebba himself who ordered his son into what he called the house of arms. It was only a kind of barn of split logwork at the right of the central dwelling. It had a good earthen floor, however, and its walls inside were hung with many weapons.
"So," thought Ned, "is the great hall in yonder. I'm going to take a good look at them, by and by."
"Take this light shield," said Vebba to Ned, "and this thin blade. It is heavy enough for thee. Thou wilt first fence with Svip, the son of Pend."
"No shield," said Ned, a little proudly, putting it down on the floor. "Let him punch away at me."
Several grown-up Vikings were standing around watching, and they all uttered exclamations of surprise, but Svip, a youth as tall as Lars, stepped promptly forward, sword in hand. Neither of them wore armour, but the shield of Svip was a pretty heavy weight for a fencer to carry,—unless the other fencer should also be weighted.