“I will do thy bidding, lord,” said Skallagrim.  Then he entered the cave and set a plain black steel helm upon his black locks, and a black chain byrnie about his breast.  He took the great axe-head also and fitted to it the half of another axe that lay among the weapons.  Then he drew out a purse of money and a store of golden rings, and set them in a bag of otter skin, and buckled it about him.  But the other goods he wrapped up in skins and hid behind some stones which were at the bottom of the cave—­purposing to come another time and fetch them.

Then they went forth by that same perilous path which Eric had trod, and Skallagrim showed him how he might pass the rock in safety.

“A rough road this,” said Eric as he gained the deep cleft.

“Yea, lord, and, till thou camest, one that none but wood-folk have trodden.”

“I would tread it no more,” said Eric again, “and yet that fellow thief of thine said that I should die here,” and for a while his heart was heavy.

Now Skallagrim Lambstail led him by secret paths to a dell rich in grass, that is hid in the round of the mountain, and here three good horses were at feed.  Then, going to a certain rock, he brought out bits and saddles, and they caught the horses, and, mounting them, rode away from Mosfell.

Now Eric and his henchman Skallagrim the Baresark rode four hours and saw nobody, till at length they came to the brow of a hill that is named Horse-Head Heights, and, crossing it, found themselves almost in the midst of a score of armed men who were about to mount their horses.

“Now we have company,” said Skallagrim.

“Yes, and bad company,” answered Eric, “for yonder I spy Ospakar Blacktooth, and Gizur and Mord his sons, ay and others.  Down, and back to back, for they will show us little gentleness.”

Then they sprang to earth and took their stand upon a mound of rising ground—­and the men rode towards them.

“I shall soon know what thy fellowship is worth,” said Eric.

“Fear not, lord,” answered Skallagrim.  “Hold thou thy head and I will hold thy back.  We are met in a good hour.”

“Good or ill, it is likely to be a short one.  Hearken thou:  if thou must turn Baresark when swords begin to flash, at the least stand and be Baresark where thou art, for if thou rushest on the foe, my back will be naked and I must soon be sped.”

“It shall be as thou sayest, lord.”

Now men rode round them, but at first they did not know Eric, because of the golden helm that hid his face in shadow.

“Who are ye?” called Ospakar.

“I think that thou shouldst know me, Blacktooth,” Eric answered, “for I set thee heels up in the snow but lately—­or, at the least, thou wilt know this,” and he drew great Whitefire.

“Thou mayest know me also, Ospakar,” cried the Baresark.  “Skallagrim, men called me, Lambstail, Eric Brighteyes calls me, but once thou didst call me Ounound.  Say, lord, what tidings of Thorunna?”