Before the temple was a fire-reddened stone, the altar.  And on it were graven runes, and symbols so strange that neither I nor any man could read them, so old were they, for some men said that stone and runes alike were older than the worship of Odin himself, having been an altar to gods that were before him.  And a pile of wood was ready on the altar.

Beside it stood Ingvar, clad in golden shining scale armour, and with a gilded horned helm and scarlet cloak that hung from shoulders to heel; for as his forefathers had been before him, beyond the time when the Danes and Angles came from their far eastern home {xvii}, led by Odin himself, he was the “godar”, the priest of the great gods of Asgard, and his it was to offer the sacrifice now that Lodbrok his father was dead.

Now, as I stood there I thought how my father had told me that our own family had been the godars of our race in the old days, so that he and I in turn should have taken our place at such an offering as Ingvar was about to make.  And straightway I seemed to be back in the long dead past, when on these same shores my forbears had worshipped thus before seeking the new lands that they won beyond the seas.  And that was a strange thought, yet now I should know from what our faith had brought us.

In a little while all Ingvar’s following had come, and there were many chiefs whose faces I had seen of late as they came to plan the great raid that was to be when the season came.  And the men with them were very many, far more than we could have gathered to a levy on so short notice; and all were well armed, and stood in good order as trained and hardened warriors.  No longer could I wonder at all I had heard of the numbers of the Danish hosts who came to our shores, and were even now in Northumbria, unchecked.

There was silence in all the great ring of men; and only the rustle of the wind in the thick-standing ash trees around us—­that seemed to hem us in like a gray wall round the clearing—­and the quick croak and flap of broad wings as the ravens wheeled ever nearer overhead, broke the stillness.

We of the crew for whose good voyage and safe return the offering was made stood foremost, facing the altar stone and the sanctuary door, and I, with Halfden and Thormod before me, and men of the crew to right and left, stood in the centre of our line, so that I could see all that went on.

Then, seeing that all was ready, Ingvar swung back the heavy door of the shrine, and I saw before me a great image of Thor the mighty, glaring with sightless eyes across the space at me.  It was carved in wood, and the god stood holding in one hand Mioelner, his great hammer, and in the other the head of the Midgaard serpent, whose tailed curled round his legs, as though it were vainly trying to struggle free.

Then Ingvar turned and lighted the altar fire, and the smoke rose straight up and hung in the heavy morning air in a cloud over the Ve; and that seemed to be of good omen, for the men shouted joyfully once, and were again silent.