Ulric arose and gave orders. Immediately a transfer began from The Sword to the trireme of all arms and provisions, and the men worked rapidly. Only that Wulf worked not, and that an old viking came and stood by him at the bulwark.
"I like it not," said Wulf, "but Ulric is jarl. What sayest thou, Lars the Old, the shipmaker?"
"Thou art a seaman," said Lars. "I am of thy mind. I toiled much in the shaping and the making of The Sword. My heart is heavy."
"So is mine!" exclaimed Wulf. "First of all men, after the jarl, did I take her helm. She is Odin's keel. There is bad fortune in leaving her."
"That do I fear," said Lars, "but I leave her not. I was sore smitten in the ribs in the fight with the Druids on the beach. I bleed well now. I shall not sail in this trireme."
"Good is thy fate," said Wulf. "Didst thou tell the jarl thou wert wounded?"
"Not so," replied Lars. "None know but a few of our old vikings. I thought not much of it at first, for I have oft been wounded. But now they will soon burn The Sword. I command thee that thou lay me upon the fore deck, where was once the hammer of Thor. That is my death place."
"That will I do," said Wulf. "So will say the jarl."
"So do I now say!" came to them in his own voice, for he also was leaning over the rail and he had heard. "O Lars, I knew not of thy hurt, thinking only of Olaf, the son of Hakon. Him have we buried in the sea this day, and thou shalt have thy will. The Sword is nearly emptied. We burn her on yonder rocks at the point as the tide falleth. We will lay thee upon her fore deck with thy arms and armor."
"Do thou thy duty by me," said Lars, "that it may be well with thee. But leave not The Sword until every timber shall be burned, lest some part of her shall fall into an enemy's hand."