CHAPTER VII.

THE VERDICT OF THE SWORD.


A shout of congratulation rose from the ship as the boat drew near
and the anxious watchers counted the fourteen men returned again
with their prisoner. Drink was served round in huge beakers, and
the superstitious fears vanished like the fog as they rowed in
triumph out of the bay.

They could see behind them the flames and smoke rising ever higher
from the burning vessels, and as the ale mounted to their heads
they shouted derisive defiance across the water.

"Where shall we go now?" asked Grim.

"Do you know of any uninhabited holm where we could land by
daybreak?" said Estein.

"There are many such about the Orkneys; one I know well, which
methinks we should reach soon after sunrise. There I shall take
you."

Ketill came up at that moment with a great horn of ale, and cried,
with a joviality only shown when drink flowed freely,--

"Drink, Estein, drink!--drink to the soul of Liot Skulison, which
shall shortly speed to Valhalla. Shall we slay him now, or keep