In the trireme The Sword itself, when she was captured, there had been a few skins of wine, but it had been red and sour and the vikings liked it not. Such as it was it had long since been consumed. In the spoil of the burned trireme, however, and hardly noticed at the first, there had been found many wine skins. All had been taken with care, and now one of them was opened to find out what it might be.
"Dark and sweet and good!" exclaimed Vebba, the son of Uric. "I will bear a horn of it to the jarl."
Large was the drinking horn, and he filled it to the brim. Sparkles arose upon the surface of the wine, and it seemed to laugh, as if the evil spirit which lived in it were accomplishing his purpose.
"It is strong," said Ben Ezra. "Drink it not, O jarl, for the demon of wine is thine enemy."
But he was too late, for the son of Brander drained the drinking horn as if it had held naught but ale. He felt it from his head to his feet, as if it had been poured upon a fire that was burning within him, and he stood erect, straightening himself and clinching his hands.
"Bring me another horn of it," he said.
"That thou shalt not do," commanded Ben Ezra, sternly. "Thou art the captain. I bid thee drink no more, lest thou lose thy life and thy vessel. The demon is upon thee, O jarl! Resist him, or he will bind thee hand and foot."
Then remembered Ulric a saying of his father and of Hilda, and it was as if he had heard her voice saying: "Son of Odin, beware of the dark wine of the south lands, for in it is death."
"Bring me no more," he said to Vebba, "and let the wine skins be cast into the sea."