King Sweyn of Denmark and his allies lay with their war hosts in a large sheltered vik, or bay, on the western side of the isle of Svold. This position was well chosen, as the bay formed a part of the channel through which--if Earl Sigvaldi fulfilled his treacherous mission--King Olaf Triggvison was certain to pass into the clutches of his foes. There were seventy war galleys in all, and each vessel was well manned and fully prepared for battle. The larger number belonged to King Sweyn; but the longships of Earl Erik were in all respects superior to those of either Denmark or Sweden.

Earl Erik himself, too, was the most valiant warrior. Excepting only Olaf Triggvison there was not a braver or more daring chief in all the lands of Scandinavia. Trained from his earliest youth to a life of storm and battle, Erik had never known the meaning of fear, and it might almost be said that he had never known defeat. His own bravery and skill had inspired every one of his viking followers with the same qualities. As his men were, so were his ships--they were chosen with the main view to their fitness for encountering the battle and the breeze. His own dragonship, which had stood the brunt of many a fierce fight, was named the Iron Ram. It was very large, and the hull timbers at both bow and stern were plated with thick staves of iron from the gunwales down to the waterline.

For many days had these ships lain at anchor in the bay, and as each day passed the three chiefs grew more and more impatient for the coming of their royal victim. Many times and again had they sat together in King Sweyn's land tent, discussing their prospects and planning their method of attack. Their purpose was not alone to wreak vengeance upon King Olaf for the supposed wrongs that each of the three had suffered at his hands. The idea of vengeance, indeed, stood only second to the great hope of conquest and of personal gain, and they had made this secret bargain among themselves, namely, that in the event of Olaf Triggvison being slain, they should each have his own third share of Norway. To Earl Erik were to be given all the shires along the western coast from Finmark to Lindesness, with the exception of seven shires allotted to Olaf the Swede King. All the shires from Lindesness, including the rich district of Agder, to the Swedish boundary, were to be taken by Sweyn Fork Beard; excepting only the realm of Ranarike (to this day a part of Sweden), which was to be given to the Swedish king.

It was further agreed among the three chieftains, concerning the expected battle, that he who first planted foot upon the Long Serpent should have her for his own, with all the wealth that was found on board of her; and each should take possession of the ships which he himself captured and cleared of men.

Touching this same arrangement Olaf Sigridson was not well content, for he knew that both Erik and Sweyn were better men than himself, and that in contending for the prize he would have but a sorry chance if either of his companions should enter the battle before him.

"It seems to me," said Sweyn, on a certain morning when they were talking this matter over, "that the fairest way of all would be that we should cast lots or throw the dice; and let it be that he who throws the highest shall be first to attack King Olaf's own ship."

So they brought out the dice box and each cast his lot in turn. Earl Erik threw a two and a five. Then the Swedish king took up the dice and he threw two sixes.

"No need is there for a third to throw!" he cried. "Mine is the first chance, and, by the hammer of Thor, the Long Serpent shall be mine also!"

But King Sweyn had still to take his throw.

"There are yet two sixes on the dice," said he, "and it is easy for the gods to let them turn up again."

He made his cast, and there were again two sixes. But one die had broken asunder, showing a three as well as the two sixes. Thus Sweyn was the victor, and it was agreed that his ships should take the centre of battle and lead the attack upon the Long Serpent.

When this matter was decided the three chiefs went up upon the heights of the island, as they had done every morning since their coming to Svold, and stood there with a great company of men. They looked eastward along the line of the Wendic coast, and as they watched they saw a great number of ships upon the sea, bearing outward from Stetten haven. The weather was very bright and clear, and the sunlight, shining upon the gaily coloured sails and upon the gilded prows, made a very fine sight.

Earl Erik noticed with some concern that the fleet was making due north. But Sweyn said: "Wait, and you will see what our good Sigvaldi will do when he comes into sight!" So they waited and watched.

In about an hour's time they saw many larger and finer vessels appearing. But they were yet too far off to be clearly recognized. Sweyn was very silent for a time, and he kept his eyes fixed upon the ships, noting their every movement. At last he cried aloud:

"Now I can see that Sigvaldi is doing as we bade him. No longer do the ships stand outward into the main. They are bearing westward for Svold! Let us now go down to our ships and not be too slow in attack."

So they all went down to the lower land and Sweyn sent boats out to bid the shipmen weigh anchor and prepare for battle as quietly as might be.

Now the channel through which Sigvaldi was to lead the Norsemen was full wide, and deep, but it had many turns and twists, and before the ships could enter the bay, where their enemies awaited them in ambush, they had need to pass round an outstretching cape. On the ridge of this cape, and hidden by trees, King Sweyn and his companions took their stand, knowing that although they might wait to see the whole of King Olaf's fleet pass by, they would still have ample time to board their ships and be in readiness to meet their victim ere he entered the bay.

It was not very long before they saw a large and splendid dragon sailing proudly into the channel. It was the ship of Eindrid of Gimsar.

"A great ship, and marvellous fair!" cried King Sweyn. "Surely it is the Long Serpent herself!"

Earl Erik shook his head and answered: "Nay; though this ship is large and fine it is not the Long Serpent."

Shortly afterwards they saw another dragon, larger than the first; but the dragon's head had been taken down from the prow.

King Sweyn said: "Now is Olaf Triggvison afraid, for he dares not sail with the head on his ship!"

"This is not the king's ship," returned Earl Erik with confident denial; "for by the green and red striping of her sails I know that her captain is Erling Skialgson. Let him pass on! If, as I believe, he is himself on board, we shall be better served if he and his band are not found among those with whom we are to fight this day."

One by one, in irregular order, the great ships of the Norse chieftains sailed by, and with each that passed, King Sweyn or Olaf of Sweden cried aloud: "Now surely this one is the Long Serpent!" But Earl Erik the Norseman recognized every one, and told her captain's name.

Presently Earl Sigvaldi's viking ships went by, holding close inshore; and at length the earl's own dragon, with a red banner at her prow, by which token King Sweyn understood that all was going as had been intended. Following close behind came the Crane.

"Now let us hasten on board!" cried King Sweyn, "for here comes the Serpent at last!"

But Earl Erik did not move.

"Many other great and splendid ships has Olaf Triggvison besides the Long Serpent," said he, "yet only nine have sailed past. Let us still wait."

Then one of Sweyn's Danish warriors who stood near gave a hoarse mocking laugh and said:

"We had heard that Earl Erik was a brave and adventurous man. But now it is clear that he has but the heart of a chicken, for he is too cowardly to fight against Olaf Triggvison and dares not avenge his own father's death. Great shame is this, to be told of through all lands, that we, with all our great host, stand here, while Norway's king sails out to sea past our very eyes."

Erik became very angry at hearing these taunting words.

"Go, then, to your ships," said he; "but for all your doubts of my courage you shall see before the sun goes down into the sea tonight that both Danes and Swedes will be less at their ease than I and my men!"

As they moved to go, yet another of King Olaf's ships hove in sight.

"Here now sails the Long Serpent!" cried the son of Queen Sigrid. "Little wonder is it that Olaf Triggvison is so widely renowned when he has such a splendid ship as this!"

All turned to watch the great vessel as she floated by. Her gilded dragon glistened in the sunlight; her striped red and blue sail swelled in the breeze; crowds of stalwart men were on her decks. No larger or more magnificent battleship had ever before been seen on these waters.

King Sweyn Fork Beard cried aloud in his exultation:

"Loftily shall the Serpent carry me tonight when I steer her north into Denmark!"

Then Earl Erik added with a sneer:

"Even if Olaf the Glorious had no larger ship than the Short Serpent, which we now see, methinks Sweyn with all his army of Danes could never win it from him without aid."

King Sweyn was about to give an angry retort when Earl Erik pointed towards the headland from behind which all these ships had in their turn appeared. And now did Sweyn at once understand how greatly he had been mistaken in what he had expected of King Olaf's famous dragonship, and how much his fancy had fallen short of the reality. He stood in dumb amazement as the towering prow of the Long Serpent glided into view, shooting long beams of golden light across the sea. First came the glistening dragon head, and then a long stretch of gaily painted hull; next, the tall mast with its swelling white sail, and, in the midst of the snowy expanse, the blood red cross. The dense row of polished shields along the bulwarks flashed in the sunlight. Sweyn marvelled at the ship's great length, for the stern did not appear in sight until long after he had seen the prow. His companion chieftains murmured their astonished admiration; while fear and terror crept into the breasts of many of the Swedes and Danes, who felt that for some of them at least the great ship carried death.

"This glorious vessel is worthy and fitting for such a mighty king as Olaf the Glorious," declared Earl Erik, "for it may in truth be said of him that he is distinguished above all other kings as the Long Serpent is above all other ships."

All unconscious of the guiles of Sigvaldi, King Olaf steered his ship in the earl's wake. At the first he took the lead of his ten other dragons, Sigvaldi sailing in advance. But as they neared the island a thing happened which caused him to fall back to the rear. Young Einar Eindridson, ever full of sport and play, had perched himself astride of the yardarm, and there, with his longbow and arrows shot at the seagulls as they flew by. Presently he espied a large bird flying over from the westward. Its wings and body were perfectly black. Slowly it came nearer and nearer, as though it would cross the Serpent's bows. Einar worked his way along to the end of the yard, and, steadying himself, fixed an arrow to the string. As the bird came within easy bow shot the lad took aim. But as he drew the string he saw the great dusky bird open its stout beak. He heard a hoarse croak, and knew it to be the croak of a raven. Now the croaking of a raven was held in those times to be a sound of very ill omen; it was also considered that the man who killed one of these birds was certainly doomed to meet with speedy misfortune. Einar slackened his bow, and the arrow slipped from his fingers. In trying to catch it, he dropped his famous bow, Thamb, and it fell into the sea. Now Einar treasured that bow beyond all his worldly possessions. Without an instant's hesitation he stood up upon the yard and leapt into the sea.

King Olaf, standing at the tiller, had seen all this, and he quickly put over the helm and, bringing the Serpent round head to wind, lay to while a boat was launched. Einar and his bow were rescued. But meanwhile the Long Serpent was overtaken by all her companion ships; and so it was that she was the last to enter the straits.

Earl Sigvaldi still held on in advance. But it was noticed that when he came abreast of the cape whereon the three chiefs had stood, he lowered his sails and steered his ships nearer inshore. The Norsemen suspecting nothing, followed his example, and very soon King Olaf's fleet gathered closer together. But when Thorkel the Wheedler came up with the Crane he shouted aloud to Sigvaldi, asking him why he did not sail. The earl replied that he intended to lie to until King Olaf should rejoin him. So Thorkel struck sail also. But the ships had still some way on them and the current was with them. They drifted on until they came to a curve in the channel which opened out into the bay where the host of King Sweyn and his allies waited in ambush.

Now by this time the Short Serpent had come alongside of Sigvaldi, and her captain, espying some of the enemy's fleet, questioned the earl concerning them.

"Strangers they all are to me," answered Sigvaldi with an evil look in his eyes. "But whoever they be, it seems that they are not altogether friendly to us. I see their red war shields from where I stand, and it looks very much as though a battle awaited us."

Then Thorkel Nefja had his oars brought out, and he steered the Short Serpent round against the stream and went back with all speed to meet the king.

"What do I see?" cried King Olaf. "Why have the ships struck sail? And what is the meaning of your coming back?"

"It is because a great host of war galleys are lying in the farther bay," answered Thorkel. "It is the host of King Sweyn of Denmark, for I saw the banner on one of the longships, and it was like unto the banners that Sweyn Fork Beard carried at the time when we were with him in England. Turn back, I implore you, O king! Turn back by the way we have come! For our fleet numbers but eleven keels, while our foes have fully two score of dragons!"

The king stood on the lypting of the Long Serpent as he heard these tidings. He turned to his mariners.

"Down with the sails! Out with the oars!" he cried with a loud voice that could be clearly heard across the waters; and the men quickly obeyed.

Still holding the tiller, Olaf kept his ship's prow ahead as before.

"Never yet have I fled from a battle," he called out to Thorkel Nefja. "And although Sweyn Fork Beard had thrice two score of warships, I would rather fight him than turn tail like a coward hound. God rules over the lives of all Christian men, and why should we fear to encounter King Sweyn and all his heathens? Let our cry be 'Onward, Christ men; onward, Cross men!'"

Now when the Long Serpent, sweeping quickly along with all oars at work, came nigh to her companions, Olaf saw that Earl Sigvaldi and his vikings had passed on beyond the cape, while his own captains had turned their prows about and were rowing back against the current.

"Why do ye take to flight?" roared Olaf in an angry voice of thunder. "Never will I fly from any earthly enemy. He is no worthy king who shuns his foes because of fear. Reverse your ships and follow the Long Serpent, be it to glory or to death!"

And now, taking the lead, he arrayed his ships in order, with the Short Serpent and the Crane together in his immediate wake, and his eight other longships following close behind. Proudly, and with all his banners flying, he sailed into the bay. Before him, at about a mile's distance, he saw the seventy warships of his foes. Their vast number and their compact battle array might well have struck fear into the heart of one who had but eleven galleys at his back. But not for an instant did Olaf Triggvison shrink from the unequal encounter. He brought his vessels to a halt, but it was not from hesitation. It was only that, taken wholly unawares, he had need to prepare for the coming battle. Taking down his great war horn from the mast, he blew a resounding blast. His warriors understood the call, and they hastily donned their armour, brought their arrows and spears on deck and stood at their stations with a readiness which showed how well their royal master had trained them.

Olaf himself went below into his cabin. He knelt for a time before the crucifix in silent prayer, and then, with his stout heart well prepared for all that might happen to him, put on his finest armour and returned to the deck.

As he stood beside his fluttering banner--a snow white banner with its blood red cross--he could easily be distinguished from all who were near him. His tall majestic figure was crowned with a crested helmet of pure gold. Over his well wrought coat of mail he wore a short tunic of scarlet silk. His shield, with its jewelled image of the crucified Christ shone in the sunlight and could be distinctly seen by his awaiting foes.

Some of his companions warned him of the danger of thus exposing himself and making himself a mark for his enemies. But he answered proudly that he wished all men, both friends and foes, to see that he shunned no danger.

"The more I am seen," he said, "and the less fear I show in the battle, the more shall I inspire my brave friends with confidence and my foes with fear and terror."

As he spoke, he saw that King Sweyn with his ships was rowing slowly out into the mid bay to meet him, leaving two detachments in his rear. There was no sign of haste on board of any one of the ships, for all men knew that there was a long day's fight before them, and that it was well to make all their preparations with slow caution.

For some time after he had come on deck King Olaf was more intent upon observing his enemies than in arraying his own small armament. He had seen from the first that it would be his place to assume the defensive, and he had given the order for his ships to be drawn up in line, broadside to broadside.

This order was being carried out as he now stood watching the advance of his enemy's battle.

"Who is the captain of the host now drawing up against us?" he asked of Bersi the Strong, one of his chieftains who stood near him. "By the standard on his prow methinks I should know him well."

"King Sweyn of the Forkedbeard it is, with his forces from Denmark," was Bersi's answer.

"That is even as I thought," returned Olaf. "But we are not afraid of those cowards, for no more courage is there in Danes than in wood goats. Never yet were Danes victorious over Norsemen, and they will not vanquish us today. But what chief flies the standards to the right?"

"Those, lord, are the standards of Olaf the Swede King."

"The son of Queen Sigrid the Haughty stands in need of a little practice in warfare," said Olaf. "But for the harm that he can do us, he might well have stayed at home. And his heathen Sweden, I think, would find it more agreeable to sit at the fireside and lick their sacrificial bowls than to board the Long Serpent under the rain of our weapons. We need not fear the horse eating Swedes. But who owns those fine ships to the left of the Danes? A gallant man he must be, for his men are far better arrayed than the rest and much bolder of aspect in all ways."

"Earl Erik Hakonson is the owner of them," answered Bersi.

"He is the noblest champion who will fight against us today," said Olaf, "and from him and the high born men that I see upon his decks we may expect a hard battle. Earl Erik has just cause for attacking us, and we must not forget that he and his crews are Norsemen like ourselves. Now let us make ready!"

Then the king turned to his own ships. The eleven dragons had been ranged side by side as he had ordered, with the Long Serpent in the middle and the Crane and the Short Serpent at either side of her. To right and to left of each of these four ships were placed. This was a very small force, compared with the overwhelming numbers of the enemy, and as Olaf glanced along his line he sorely missed the fifty of his fleet that had gone out to seaward. Nevertheless he did not allow his men to see that he was in any way anxious.

The seamen were now lashing the ships together stem by stem. Olaf saw that they were tying the beak of the Long Serpent on a level with the other prows, so that her poop stood out far behind. He called out loudly to Ketil the Tall:

"Bring forward the large ship. Let her prow and not her stern stand out. I will not lie behind my men when the battle begins!"

Then Wolf the Red, his standard bearer, whose station was forward in the bow, mumbled a complaint:

"If the Serpent shall lie as far forward as she is longer than your other ships, then there will be windy weather today in her bows."

The King answered: "I had the Serpent built longer than other ships, so that she might be put forward more boldly in battle, and be well known in fighting as in sailing. But when I chose her crew, I did not know that I was appointing a stem defender who was both red and adread."

This playful taunt ruffled Red Wolf, who replied insolently: "There need be nothing said, lord, if you will guard the poop as well as I shall guard the forecastle."

The king had a bow in his hand. He laid an arrow on the string and turned it on Wolf, who cried:

"Shoot another way, king, and not at me but at your foes, for what I win in the fight I win for Norway, and maybe you will find that you have not over many men before the evening comes."

The king lowered the arrow and did not shoot. When the men had finished lashing the ships together he again took his war horn and blew a loud blast upon it that echoed and re-echoed along the rocky shores of the island. As he turned to put the horn aside he saw that Queen Thyra, alarmed by the growing tumult, had come up on deck.

She looked out upon the bay, and seeing the enormous hostile fleet that was closing in upon Olaf's diminished force she burst into tears.

Olaf went to her side and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"You must not weep," he said gently. "Come, dry your tears; for now you have gotten what was due to you in Wendland; and today I mean to demand of your brother Sweyn the tooth gift which you have so often asked me for."

King Olaf stood on the poop deck of the Long Serpent, a conspicuous figure among his fighting men, with his gold wrought helm towering high above the others' heads. From this position he could survey the movements of his foes, command the actions of his own shipmen, and direct the defence. From this place also he could fire his arrows and fling his spears over the heads of his Norsemen. His quivers were filled with picked arrows, and he had near him many racks of javelins. The larger number of his chosen chiefs--as Kolbiorn Stallare, Thorfinn the Dashing, Ketil the Tall, and Thorstein Oxfoot--had their stations forward on the forecastle deck or in the "close quarters" nearer the prow. These stood ready with their spears and swords to resist boarders, and they were protected by the shield men, who were ranged before them at the bulwarks with their shields locked together. At various points of vantage groups of archers had been placed, the best marksmen being stationed before the mast, where no rigging or cordage would mar their aim. At this part stood Einar Eindridson throughout the whole battle. Loud and shrill sounded the war horns from both sides. Nearer and nearer King Sweyn of Denmark drew onward to the attack. The wind had fallen, the sea was calm; the sun hung hot and glaring in a cloudless sky, flashing on burnished helmet and gilded dragon head. King Olaf's prows were pointed towards the north, so that the enemy as they came down upon him had the strong midday sunlight in their eyes. King Sweyn Fork Beard opened his attack with a shower of arrows directed at the stem defenders of the Long Serpent. King Olaf's archers at once replied in like manner. This exchange of arrows was continued without ceasing while Sweyn's ships came onward at their fullest speed. Then, as the Danes drew yet closer under the Norsemen's prows, arrows gave place to javelins and spears, which were hurled with unerring aim from side to side.

Sweyn's men turned their stems towards both bows of the Long Serpent, as she stood much further forward than any others of Olaf's ships. Many who could not approach this coveted position turned their attention to the Short Serpent and the Crane. And now the battle raged fiercely. Yet the Norsemen stood firm as a wall of rock, while the Danes, assailed by a heavy rain of spears and arrows from the Serpent's decks, began to lose heart ere ever a man of them was able to make his way through the close bulwark of shields. Olaf's prows were so lofty that they could not be scaled, while the defenders, from their higher stand, had full command over their foes. Thrand Squint Eye and Ogmund Sandy were the first of the Norsemen to fall. These two leapt down upon the deck of King Sweyn's dragon, where, after a tough hand to hand fight, in which they vanquished nine of the Dane King's foremost warriors, they were slain. Kolbiorn Stallare was very angry at these two having broken the ranks, and he gave the order that none of the Norsemen were to attempt to board the enemy's ships without express command.

Sweyn's ship lay under the larboard bow of the Serpent, and Wolf the Red had thrown out grappling hooks, holding her there. She was a longship, of twenty banks of oars, and her crew were the pick of all the warmen of Denmark. Sharp and fierce was the fight at this side, and great was the carnage. While Kolbiorn and others of Olaf's stem defenders kept up an incessant battle with their javelins and swords, King Olaf and his archers shot their arrows high in air so that they fell in thick rain upon the Danish decks. Yet the Danes, and the Swedes from the rear, were not slow to retaliate. Although they found it impossible to board the Serpent, they nevertheless could assail her crowded decks with arrows and well aimed spears, and the Norsemen fell in great numbers. In the meantime Sweyn's other ships--not one of which was larger than the smallest of King Olaf's eleven dragons--made a vigorous onset upon Olaf's left and right wings. The Norsemen fought with brave determination, and as one after another of the Dane ships was cleared of men it was drawn off to the rear, and its place was occupied by yet another ship, whose warriors, fresh and eager, renewed the onset. All along Olaf's line there was not one clear space, not a yard's breadth of bulwark unoccupied by fighting men. The air was filled with flying arrows and flashing spears and waving swords. The clang of the weapons upon the metal shields, the dull thud of blows, the wild shouts of the warriors and cries of the wounded, mingled together in a loud vibrating murmur. To Earl Sigvaldi, who lay with his ships apart at the far end of the bay, it sounded like the humming of bees about a hive. Not only at the prows, but also behind at the sterns of Olaf's compact host, did the Danes attempt to board. The Norsemen, indeed, were completely surrounded by their foemen. King Olaf fought from the poop deck of the Serpent with no less vigour than did Kolbiorn and his stem defenders at the prow. He assailed each ship as it approached with showers of well directed arrows. Then, as the stem of one of the Danish longships crashed into his vessel's stern, he dropped his longbow and caught up his spears, one in either hand, and hurled them into the midst of his clamouring foes. Time after time he called to his followers, and led them with a fierce rush down upon the enemy's decks, sweeping all before him. Seven of King Sweyn's vessels did he thus clear; and at last no more came, and for a time he had rest. But a great cry from the Serpent's forecastle warned him that his stem men were having a hard struggle. So he gathered his men together and led them forward. Many were armed with battleaxes, others with spears, and all with swords. Calling to his shield bearers to make way for him, he pressed through the gap and leapt down upon the deck of Sweyn Forkbeard's dragon.

"Onward, Christ men, Cross men!" he cried as full three score of his bravest warriors followed close at his back. And he cut his way through the crowd of Danes, who, led by Sweyn himself, had been making a final rally and preparing to board the Serpent. King Sweyn was wounded in the right arm by a blow from Kolbiorn's sword. Kolbiorn was about to repeat the blow when several of the Danes, retreating aft, crowded between him and their king. Sweyn drew back, and crying aloud to his men to follow him, turned tail and led them over the bulwarks on to the deck of a ship that was alongside of him. This ship, which had not yet been secured by the Norsemen's grappling irons, he now withdrew to the farther shores of the bay. As he thus retreated from the battle he sounded his horns, calling off those of his ships that were not yet altogether vanquished. Tired, wounded, and despairing, he owned himself no match for Olaf the Glorious. He had made the attack with five and forty fully manned warships, and yet all this great force had been as nothing against the superior skill and courage of the defenders. Thus it befell, as Olaf Triggvison had guessed, that the Danes did not gain a victory over the Norsemen. While the Danes were in full retreat the Swedes hastened forward to renew the attack. The Swedish king, believing that Olaf Triggvison must certainly have suffered terrible loss at the hands of the Danes, had the fullest hope that he would take very little time in turning the defeat of King Sweyn into a victory for himself. He had already, from a distance, kept up an intermittent fire of arrows into the midst of the Norse ships, and it may be that he had thus helped to reduce King Olaf's strength. He now rowed proudly upon the left wing of the Norse fleet. Here he divided his own forces, sending one division to an attack upon Olaf's prows, and himself rowing round to the rear. Many of the disabled Dane ships barred his way, but he at last brought his own longship under the poop of the Long Serpent. This interval had given the Norsemen a brief respite in which to clear their disordered decks and refresh themselves with welcome draughts of cooling water which their chief ordered to be served round.

Vain were the Swede king's hopes. When he advanced upon the Serpent Olaf Triggvison was ready to meet him, refreshed by his brief rest, unwounded still, and with his warlike spirit burning eager within him.

"Let us not lose courage at the sight of these heathen devourers of horse flesh!" he cried as he rallied his men. "Onward, my brave Christians! It is for Christ's faith that we fight today. Christ's cross against Thor's hammer! Christian against pagan!"

Then, when the anchors and grappling hooks were fastened upon the Swede king's ship, Olaf hastened to the rail and assailed her men first with javelin and long spear, and then with sword. So high was the Serpent's poop above the other's stem that the Norsemen had to bring their weapons to bear right down below the level of their sandalled feet, and whenever the Swedish soldiers, emboldened by seeing an occasional gap in King Olaf's ranks, tried to climb on board, they were hewn down or thrown back into the sea.

At last Olaf of Sweden came forward with a strong body of swordsmen and axemen, intent upon being the first of the three hostile princes to plant his foot on the deck of the Long Serpent. Olaf Triggvison saw him approaching, and again calling his Norsemen to follow him, he leapt over the rail and landed on the enemy's deck. The son of Queen Sigrid stood still on his forecastle. His face suddenly blanched, but he gripped his sword, ready to encounter Norway's king. Here the two Olafs met and crossed swords, and a desperate duel ensued. Scarcely had they made half a dozen passes when Olaf Triggvison, with a quick movement of his wrist, struck his opponent's sword from his grasp and it fell on the deck.

"Too bold is Queen Sigrid's son," cried Olaf, "if he thinks to board the Long Serpent. Now have I got you in my power and might put an end to you and your worship of heathen idols. But never shall it be said that Olaf Triggvison struck down a foe who was unarmed. Pick up your blade, proud King of the Swedes, and let us see who is the better man, you or I."

So when Swedish Olaf stood again on guard, the two crossed swords once more.

"Now will I avenge the insult you offered my mother!" cried Olaf Sigridson, "and you who struck her on the cheek with your glove shall be struck dead with a weapon of well tempered steel instead of foxskin."

"Guard well your head," returned Triggvison, "lest I knock off your helmet. The man who taught you the use of the sword might have been better employed, for in truth he has taught you very little."

"He has taught me enough to enable me to slay such a man as you!" cried the Swede, gathering his strength for a mighty blow.

"That remains to be proved," retorted Olaf Triggvison. "Wait! you have got the wrong foot foremost!"

But without heeding, the Swede king brought down his sword with a great sweep, aiming at Olaf Triggvison's head. As with a lightning flash Olaf raised his sword to meet the blow. His opponent's blade was broken in two halves, while at the same moment he fell severely wounded upon the deck.

"Swedish sword blades are good," said Olaf Triggvison, "but the swords of the Norsemen are better."

He thought that he had made an end of the King of Sweden. But some of the Swedish soldiers who had been watching the duel rushed forward, and, raising their fallen king, carried him off on board another of his ships, while Olaf Triggvison went aft along the crowded decks, and men fell beneath his blows, as the ripe grain falls before the mower's scythe. It happened to the Swedes, as to the Danes, that notwithstanding their superior numbers they found that they were ill matched in skill and prowess with the Norsemen. Their picked champions were speedily killed or wounded, their best ships were disabled, and although they had indeed reduced Olaf Triggvison's forces by about half, yet they had not succeeded in boarding any one of his ships, much less in carrying any of them off as prizes. As King Sweyn had retreated, so did King Olaf of Sweden. His ships were called off from the combat and withdrawn out of range of the Norsemen's arrows. He had won no fame by his daring attack, but only ignominious defeat, and he was fain to escape alive, albeit very badly wounded.

Thus Olaf Triggvison had made both the Danes and the Swedes take to flight, and it had all befallen as he had said.

And now it must be told how Earl Erik Hakonson fared in that fight. True to the agreement which he and the two allied kings had come to over their dice throwing on the morning of that same fateful day, he had stood apart from the battle while Sweyn had vainly striven to make a prize of the Long Serpent; and during the midday and until the retreat of King Sweyn he had engaged no more in the conflict than to direct his arrows from afar into the thick of Olaf Triggvison's host. Now, Earl Erik was wise in warfare, and a man of keen judgment. He had fought with his father in the great battle against Sigvaldi and the vikings of Jomsburg, and from what he had seen on that day of Olaf Triggvison's prowess, and from what he had since heard of Olaf's warfare in England and other lands, he had made a very true estimate of the man who now fought in defence of the Long Serpent. He had also seen Sweyn Forkbeard in the thick of battle, and Olaf of Sweden no less. He was, therefore, well able to judge that neither the king of the Danes nor the king of the Swedes was capable of overcoming so brave and mighty a warrior as the king of the Norsemen, or of wresting the Long Serpent from the man who had built her and who knew so well how to defend his own. Pride in his own countryman may have had some share in the forming of this opinion. But Earl Erik had fought against the men of every land in Scandinavia. He had a firm belief that the men of Norway were braver and bolder, stronger in body, more skilful in the use of their weapons, and had greater powers of endurance than any of their neighbours. And it may be that in this he was right. He at least saw cause for thinking that the only men who could succeed in vanquishing King Olaf's Norsemen were the Norsemen of Earl Erik Hakonson. Earl Erik's vikings and berserks, eagerly watching the fray, had seen how the Danish ships had one after another been driven off, disabled and defeated. They had watched every movement of the tall and splendid form of the Norse king as he fought in his shining armour and his bright red tunic on the Serpent's lypting. For a time they had not been certain whether Olaf Triggvison was at the stem or on the poop of his great dragonship, for it was seen that at each of these important points there was a tall chief whose prowess and whose attire alike distinguished him from all other men; and these two champions so resembled one the other that it was not easy to tell which was Kolbiorn Stallare and which King Olaf. But Earl Erik had not a moment's doubt. He would have known Olaf Triggvison had a score of such men as Kolbiorn been at his side. Earl Erik was the eldest son of the evil Earl Hakon who had fled from Thrandheim at the time of Olaf's coming into Norway, and been slain while taking refuge at the farmstead of Rimul, and Erik had naturally hoped that on his father's death he would succeed to the throne. Olaf Triggvison had shattered all his plans of future glory; and during the five years that had already passed of King Olaf's reign he thirsted for such an opportunity as now presented itself, not only of avenging his father's death but also, it might be, of placing himself upon the throne of Norway. His only uneasiness at the present moment arose from his fear lest King Olaf should be overcome in the battle ere he had himself encountered him face to face and hand to hand.

While the King of Sweden and his forces were engaged with their attack upon Olaf's centre of battle, Earl Erik adopted a plan which, although seemingly more hopeless, was in the end more successful than any that had yet been attempted by either the Danes or the Swedes. He saw that while the Long Serpent continued to be supported on either side by five strong and well manned dragonships she was practically unassailable. Her poop and her prow were the only points of her hull that were exposed, and these towered so high above the bulwarks of all other vessels that to attempt to board her was both useless and dangerous. Herein lay the secret of Olaf's successful defence, the proof of his forethought and wisdom in building the Serpent so much larger and higher than all other vessels in his fleet. Earl Erik, indeed, had observed that every ship that had approached her, either fore or aft, had been in its turn completely cleared of men or forced to withdraw out of the conflict.

Urging his rowers to their fullest speed, Erik bore down with his ships upon the extreme of King Olaf's right wing. The heavy, iron bound bow of the Ram crashed into the broadside of Olaf's outermost longship, whose timber creaked and groaned under the impact. Vikings and berserks leapt down upon her decks, and now Norseman met Norseman in a terrible, deadly combat. The king's men were well nigh exhausted with the long day's fighting under the hot sun; their bronzed faces streamed with perspiration, their limbs moved wearily. But, however, tired and thirsty they were, they could give themselves no respite. Every man that fell or was disabled by wounds left a gap in the ranks that could not be filled. The earl's men were fresh and vigorous; they had waited for hours for their chief's orders to enter the fray, and now that those orders had been given to them they fought with hot fury, yelling their battle cries and cutting down their foemen with ponderous axe and keen edged sword.

So fierce was the onslaught that many of Olaf's men, for the first time that day, fell back in fear and clambered over the bulwarks of the next ship. Very soon the decks of the first longship were completely cleared of defenders. Then Earl Erik backed out with the Iron Ram, while the seamen on his other ships cut away the lashings that had bound Olaf's outermost vessel to her neighbour, and drew the conquered craft away into the rear, leaving the next ship exposed.

Again Earl Erik advanced with the Ram and crashed as before into the exposed broadside of the outermost ship. As before, the vikings leapt on board and renewed the onset. Five of the viking ships lay with their high prows overshadowing the broadside bulwarks, and their men swarmed and clamoured upon the decks from stem to stern, clearing all before them. Again the lashings were cut and the conquered longship was withdrawn.

Two of King Olaf's dragons had now been captured by Earl Erik. It was not very long ere yet two others followed; and then the Short Serpent was exposed, even as her four companions had been. At this juncture Earl Erik paused, for he saw that Thorkel Nefja's decks were densely crowded with men who had retreated from vessel to vessel before the onslaught of the vikings. With the caution which long years of viking work had taught him, the earl decided that the Short Serpent might best be assailed by means of arrows, fired from a safe distance, until her numbers had been sufficiently diminished to warrant his attacking her at closer quarters. So he arrayed six of his ships near hand and set his archers to work, and for a long while this method of assault was continued.

There was no lack of arrows on the Short Serpent, or indeed, on any other of King Olaf's battleships. But it was noticed by the earl's vikings that the larger number of the shafts that were shot at them by the defenders were of Danish or Swedish make, and by this it was judged that the king's men were using the arrows that had been fired upon them by their enemies.

Leaving his six ships where he had stationed them, Earl Erik now rowed the Iron Ram round to the left wing of Olaf Triggvison's array. Four of his best longships followed him. He passed astern of the king's fleet. As he rowed by under the poop of the Long Serpent he saw the majestic figure of the King of Norway, looking brilliant in gold and scarlet as he stood in flood of the afternoon sunlight, sword in hand and shield at breast. The eyes of the two bravest of Norse warriors met. Waving his sword in mock salute, Earl Erik cried aloud:

"Short will be Olaf's shrift when Erik boards the Long Serpent!"

King Olaf saw that near to where Erik stood, on the Iron Ram's forward deck, the image of the god Thor was raised, and he cried aloud in answer:

"Never shall Erik board the Serpent while Thor dwells in his stem!"

"A wise soothsayer is the king," said Earl Erik to one of his warriors as he passed onward astern of the Crane. "And I have been thinking, ever since this battle began that the great luck of Olaf may be due to that sign of the cross that we see on all his banners and shields. Often have I felt a wish to turn Christian, for it seems to me that all Christian men have something noble and honest about them--a greatness which we heathens can never achieve. Now do I swear upon the hilt of my sword"--he raised his sword hilt to his lips--"that if I win this battle and take the Long Serpent for my prize I will straightway allow myself to be christened. And, to begin with, I will have that image of Thor thrown overboard into the sea. It is ill made and cumbrous, and a figure of the cross will take less room in our stem and bring us more luck withal."

So speaking, Earl Erik stepped forward and, gripping the idol in his strong arms, flung it over the bulwark. Then he lashed two spars together, a long plank crossed with a shorter one, and raised this rough made crucifix high in the stem of the Iron Ram. By this time his vessel had passed beyond the extreme of King Olaf's left wing. He bade his rowers stop their rowing on the starboard side. They did so, and the ship turned about. Then at fullest speed he bore down upon the king's outermost dragon, crashed into her side and renewed his onslaught.

Erik dealt with the left wing as he had done with the right, and one after another of the four ships was cleared and unlashed. And now the Long Serpent lay with only two companions, the Short Serpent at her starboard and the Crane at her larboard side.

Already the Short Serpent was greatly crippled. Her commander, Thorkel Nefja, had fallen, and the larger number of her men had retreated on board of Olaf's ship, driven thither by the vikings of the six vessels that were now ranged close against her. Earl Erik now made a vigorous attack upon the Crane. He boarded her with a vast crowd of his vikings. On the mid deck he encountered her captain, Thorkel the Wheedler, and the two engaged in a sharp hand to hand fight. Regardless of his own life, Thorkel fought with savage fury. He knew how much depended upon his preventing Erik from boarding the king's ship. But he had already received a severe wound from a javelin across the fingers of his right hand, and he was full weary from the heat and long fighting. His assailant speedily overcame him, and he fell, calling upon God to save the king. As Thorkel had fought, so fought his men--desperately, furiously, but yet weakly, and at last both the Crane and the Short Serpent were cleared; their lashings were unfastened, they were withdrawn to the rear, and King Olaf's great dragonship stood alone among her foes.