The red flares shone on her mail and white dress and sparkling helm.
"Gorm," she cried softly; "Gorm, old friend--I have come home!" He stood for a moment as if turned to stone there on the wharf.
Then he shaded his eyes with his hand as if in broad daylight, and stared at Gerda for but a moment, for she spoke his name once more.
"Odin," he cried, "this is a good day--if my ears and eyes do not play me false--yet it is hardly to be believed.

Let me come on board." He hurried to the gangway, and there Gerda met him.

One close look was enough for him, and he bent his knee and kissed her hand with words of welcome, and so would be made known to Bertric and myself.
He looked us up and down with a sharp glance and smiled, and Gerda told her tale in a few words.
"True enough," he said; "for you wear the arms of the house, and wear them well.

I never thought to see one in the war gear of the young master again and not to resent it--but Gerda will have made no mistake.

Now, what will you do?
Arnkel sits in the hall, and with him men who have come from Eric Bloodaxe the King." "Hakon, Athelstane's foster son, is king," said Bertric.