But a sound came loudly, and then another—and another.
Svein stood still and blew upon his war horn, and it was a command to his Danes that they should form as spearmen. From behind a wide house rang joyously the note of a Roman trumpet, and a line of legionaries, headed by an officer, began to show itself. The third sound was the angry word of Ulric, the son of Brander.
"Svein Jarl," he shouted, "I know thee. Thou art Svein, son of Hedrig, my father's enemy. Me thou wouldst betray to these wolves of Rome, but thou art not able. I will give thee and them to the valkyrias."
"Hold thou, Ulric the Jarl," said Svein. "Thou art caught in a trap. Thou shalt but give them up their trireme. Thou mayest remain with me. Lay down thy weapons. Thou and thine are prisoners. We may deal with thee as we will."
So said the officer of the legionaries, mockingly, coming forward, followed by his force. It was but fourscore of men, and they were the garrison of this village, with Svein and his Danes and his Jutlanders.
But Ulric was a good captain, and he and his Saxons were stepping backward and the gate was still open. Then fell quickly three men who strove to shut it, but they went down by the spears of Sigurd's Saxons.
At that the Romans charged, and their charge was that of warriors expecting to conquer; but Ulric, the son of Brander, was taller by the head than any among them. He waited not, but stepped out and met them in front of the triangle formed by his men, and the flashing of his ax was like the swiftness of the lightning, and his wrath was terrible. Fast flew the spears on either side, but the Saxons threw first, not waiting, and there were quickly gaps in the Roman line.
Now charged Svein and his followers with shouts of victory, save that a number of them were Northmen and had no heart to this work. These fell back muttering, and one of them said, loudly:
"Ulric, son of Odin, win thou this fight. The gods of the North be with thee. I shed no blood in any such quarrel. I am not a Roman."