Thereat Olaf laughed, and no more was said.  But in years to come there were told strange tales of the longing, as it were, of his own sword ‘Hneitir’ to be back at its master’s side.

So the time went quickly for me, but to Olaf the waiting seemed long before Eadmund rode back from Rouen.  And with him came those thanes and his half-brother Eadward, but Ethelred himself was not with them.  He would not go to England, fearing treachery as it seemed; but Eadward was to go over and meet the witan and speak with them.  Yet the thanes said that without the king no force would move.

“Why does he not go?” said Olaf impatiently.  “Here is time lost when a sudden blow would win all.”

“Because he is Ethelred the Unredy,” answered Eadmund shortly, for he was very angry at the delay.

Then was another waiting, but Eadward was very wise though he was so young, being but twelve years old at this time, and he had Elfric the abbot with him, and at last word came from him that all was going well.  Then Ethelred made up his mind and listened to Olaf’s counsel.

“Strike at London,” he said.  “We know that the citizens are ever loyal.”

They had risen, as it seemed, and had slain many of the thingmen, and Heming, Thorkel’s brother, himself.  That had but brought on them hardships and a stronger garrison, while Ethelred wavered and would not come.

At last Ethelred gathered what few men would follow him from Normandy and sailed to go to Southampton, and so to Winchester.  Richard the Duke gave him a few ships and men enough to man them.  Then Olaf, as it was planned, would sail up the Thames in such time as to meet the king’s land force at London on a certain day, and thus take the city by a double attack.  And Olaf asked that I might sail with him.

That Eadmund gladly agreed to, saying that we should meet on London Bridge shortly, and so I saw him set out full of hope, and then waited with Olaf for the short time that he would yet stay before sailing.  He would not reach the Thames too early lest London should be held in too great force for us, and it was his plan that we should sail up the great river too suddenly for any new Danish force to be gathered.

Now on the evening before we sailed Olaf the king was restless, and silent beyond his wont at the feasting before departure, and he seemed to take little pleasure even in the songs of Ottar the scald, though the men praised them loudly.  I thought it likely that some foreboding was on him, and that is no good sign before a fight.

So presently I spoke to Rani, asking him if aught ailed the king.  Whereat he answered, smiling: 

“Nought ails him but longing to be sword to sword with these old foes of ours.  This is his way, ever.  If he were gay as Biorn the marshal yonder I might wonder at him maybe.”