Now Ospakar grew mad with anger and drink—­and he grinned like a dog, till men saw the red gums beneath his lips.

“Thou wilt wrestle with me, youngling—­with me whom no man has ever so much as lifted from my feet?  Good!  I will lay thee on thy face and whip thee, and Whitefire shall be the stake—­I swear it on the holy altar-ring; but what hast thou to set against the precious sword?  Thy poor hovel and its lot of land shall be all too little.”

“I set my life on it; if I lose Whitefire let Whitefire slay me,” said Eric.

“Nay, that I will not have, and I am master here in this Temple,” said Asmund.  “Bethink thee of some other stake, Ospakar, or let the game be off.”

Now Ospakar gnawed his lip with his black fang and thought.  Then he laughed aloud and spoke: 

“Bright is Whitefire and thou art named Brighteyes.  See now:  I set the great sword against thy right eye, and, if I win the match, it shall be mine to tear it out.  Wilt thou play this game with me?  If thy heart fails thee, let it go; but I will set no other stake against my good sword.”

“Eyes and limbs are a poor man’s wealth,” said Eric:  “so be it.  I stake my right eye against the sword Whitefire, and we will try the match to-morrow.”

“And to-morrow night thou shalt be called Eric One-eye,” said Ospakar—­at which some few of his thralls laughed.

But most of the men did not laugh, for they thought this an ill game and a worst jest.

Now the feast went on, and Asmund rose from his high seat in the centre of the nave, on the left hand looking down from the altar, and gave out the holy toasts.  First men drank a full horn to Odin, praying for triumph on their foes.  Then they drank to Frey, asking for plenty; to Thor, for strength in battle; to Freya, Goddess of Love (and to her Eric drank heartily); to the memory of the dead; and, last of all, to Bragi, God of all delight.  When this cup was drunk, Asmund rose again, according to custom, and asked if none had an oath to swear as to some deed that should be done.

For a while there was no answer, but presently Eric Brighteyes stood up.

“Lord,” he said, “I would swear an oath.”

“Set forth the matter, then,” said Asmund.

“It is this,” quoth Eric.  “On Mosfell mountain, over by Hecla, dwells a Baresark of whom all men have ill knowledge, for there are few whom he has not harmed.  His name is Skallagrim; he is a mighty man and he has wrought much mischief in the south country, and brought many to their deaths and robbed more of their goods:  for none can prevail against him.  Still, I swear this, that, when the days lengthen, I will go up alone against him and challenge him to battle, and conquer him or fall.”

“Then, thou yellow-headed puppy-dog, thou shalt go with one eye against a Baresark with two,” growled Ospakar.

Men took no heed of his words, but shouted aloud, for Skallagrim had plagued them long, and there were none who dared to fight with him any more.  Only Gudruda looked askance, for it seemed to her that Eric swore too fast.  Nevertheless he went up to the altar, and, taking hold of the holy ring, he set his foot on the holy stone and swore his oath, while the feasters applauded, striking their cups upon the board.