"Orkney Vikings," muttered Ulf. "If I know one long ship from
another, they are Orkney Vikings."

Meantime Thorkel's ship had drawn close alongside, and its captain
hailed Estein.

"There is little time for talking now, son of Hakon!" he shouted.
"What think you we should do?--run into the islands, or go to Odin
where we are? These men, methinks, will show us little mercy."

"I seek mercy from no man," answered Estein. "We will bide where
we are. We could not escape them if we would, and I would not if I
could. Have you seen aught of the other ships?"

"We parted from Ketill yesterday, and I fear me he has gone to
feed the fishes. I have seen nothing of Asgrim and the rest. I
think with you, Estein, that the bottom here will make as soft a
resting-place for us as elsewhere. Fill the beakers and serve the
men! It is ill that a man should die thirsty."

The stout sea-rover turned with a gleam of grim humour in his eyes
to the enjoyment of what he fully expected would be his last drink
on earth, and on both ships men buckled on their armour and
bestirred themselves for fight.

Vikings in those days preyed on one another as freely as on men of
alien blood. They came out to fight, and better sport could
generally be had from a crew of seasoned warriors like themselves
than from the softer peoples of the south. Particularly were the
Orkney and Shetland islands the stations for the freest of free