Indeed King Olaf had little love for sitting over the ale cup, and no man was more careful to see to all things about his ships and men than he.
The great doors closed after us, and we stood in the white moonlight for a moment.

The air was cold and sharp after the warmth of the crowded hall.

Down in the harbour the water was quiet enough, but outside a fair breeze was blowing from the southwest.
"The wind will hold, and will serve us well," said Olaf.

"Who of all the Danish hosts will deem that such a wind is bringing fire and sword on them from across the sea ?" Then he folded his cloak round him and we went down to the harbour, where the long line of ships lay side by side along the wharf with their bows shoreward.

The great dragon stem heads towered over us, shining strangely in the moonlight, and the gentle send of the waves into the harbour made them sway and creak as though they were coming to life.
"The dragons are restless as I," he said looking up at them.
"Tomorrow, hungry ones--tomorrow--then shall you and I be set free to meet wind and wave and foe again." Then one of the men on watch began to sing, and his song was an old sea stave that had a swing and roll in its rough tune that was like the broken surge of sea water, even while it was timed to the fall of oar blades into the surf.