He led his band south. Before dark they found a hamlet. Terrified, the few dwellers snatched what weapons they had. The king bade his men halt and went ahead alone, palms spread, to meet them. They could ill believe his tale. They had heard nothing. It seemed likelier that the newcomers had suffered shipwreck, as gaunt and worn as they were. Yet there had been no storms of late. And the wayfarers did at least seem peaceful. Somewhat warily, the households took them in. Stockfish, flatbread, cheese, and curds were a feast, because there was a fullness of them.
“You shall have gifts of me after I get home,” said the king in the morning. “But first will you bring us to someplace where they can more easily guest us?”
The fishers muttered among themselves whether to take these men in a boat. On the one hand, if this really was King Hadding, he ought to remember it when he chose what gifts to send. On the other hand, if he lied, that boat would have lost two or three days’ catches for nothing. At last the spokesman they picked told him it would be wrong to crowd such fine warriors into a wretched little hull stinking of fish. Besides, the spokesman didn’t like the look of the weather. Wisest would be to walk. His grandson would guide them. He would not affront King Hadding by uttering what any fool could see, that so deep-minded a lord understood the Helsings had nothing but his welfare at heart.
“More miles afoot!” groaned Eyjolf. “Has some black warlock turned us into inchworms?”
“Stop grumbling,” said old Egil. “You didn’t mind tramping across Svithjod.”
“No, but it was full of abodes to sack.”
“And maybe there are many such along hell-road, but I’m in no hurry to find out.”
In a way that stretch was indeed the most wearisome. Having the end in sight made men wholly aware of every ache and lameness, how long they had been gone and how they yearned for home. They trudged Wordless, lost in themselves. Hadding alone grew eager.
Yet when they reached the steading he sought, he told them they would stay a while.
Bruni Aslaksson stood great among his folk. Ashore he held broad acres, where the crofters paid him rent in kind and backed him at the Thing and in trouble On the water he owned six fisher boats and a ship, which sailed in trade He of-feted to the gods on behalf of the whole neighborhood and dealt with chieftains like himself up and down the coast. Though his house was built more of turf than timber, it was of good size, and stood at the middle of its own stockaded thorp. There was no lack of food and drink, furs and stuffs, herds and hirelings, strong sons and shrewdly married daughter&
He had never met Hadding, but had heard enough to know that this was in truth the Dane-king. “Welcome, welcome!” he boomed. He was a burly, snub-nosed man with a ruddy beard, going gray, that curled halfway down his paunch. “What an amazement! What a troll-banging amazement! We’ve had some news out of Geatland and Svithjod. I feared you were dead. But here you are. Ha, we’ll gorge and swill this evening!”
“How fares Denmark?” asked Hadding.
“As far as I know, well. That jail of Zealand you left to keep care Eirik Björnsson, that’s the name, not—he seems like a worthy steersman. You’ll soon see for yourself. My ship’s at sea right now. But I’ll have two boats scrubbed clean, and ferry you across the ‘Gat with something like swagger. First, though, we’ll fire up the bathhouse You haven’t steamed in months, have you? And we’ll break out dean clothes for the lot of you. Won’t be anything rich, but whole and warm and no bugs in it. And we can’t make a rightful feast ready before tomorrow, but we’ll be killing the fattest beasts, and meanwhile we’ve no dearth of pork—or ale and mead, which matters more—and I can tell you we’ve lively lassies hereabouts.”
Hadding smiled on the left side of his mouth. “I think they’ll have to wait,” he said. “We’re not very lively yet. I’d have us abide a while”
“Ha? Not but what you won’t be welcome, in this house and in all. Fresh faces are well-nigh unheard of, you know. Fishers swarm in from everywhere during the herring run, but mostly they’re not much fun to meet unless it be in a brawl. Hardly anybody else ever stops by. However, aside from those wenches I spoke of when you feel a bit better, what have we here to lure you with?”
“Peace,” Hadding sighed. “The day! set foot again on Danish soil, folk will be at me. Questions, reckonings, tales, begs, grievances, the rounds to make, the folkmoots to head, the judgments to give, the care to take of high-born men’s honor—even listening to my own praises and thinking what gift those verses are worth—Let me get back my strength. Until then, it’ll be better for the kingdom, too, if Eirik Jarl stays at the helm.”
“I see. Never thought how much work it is being a king. I should have. Don’t my crofters and skippers and women give me grief enough? Do stay, my lord, do stay.”
“A month, at most,” Hadding guessed. “Meanwhile, of course, send word to Eirik that I live. Those men of mine who can’t wait to get home can ride in that boat, but I think most will decide they too would rather first regain their health. Also, send a boat around Scania to tell my war fleet. If it has not set sail because the Swedes arrived, or because everybody gave up hope of me, one of those ships can come fetch us. Otherwise I will take your offer of passage.”
“Good, good. It shall be done. If it happens my knorr is back by
