“It is easily seen that our friend Liot is a valiant man,” said Helgi with a short laugh.  “He and his ill-looking crew make a mighty noise.  Has any man heard of Liot Skulison or Osmund Hooknose before?”

“Ay,” answered Ulf.  “They call them the bairn-slayers, because they show no mercy even to children.”

“They will meet with other than bairns to-day,” said Helgi.

Estein and Thorkel had been employed in binding the two vessels together with grapnels.  Then Estein turned to his men and said,—­

“We are of one mind, are we not?  We fight while we may, and then let Odin do with us what he wills.”

Without waiting for the shout of approval that followed his words, he sprang to the bow, and raising his voice, cried,—­

“We are ready for you, Liot and Osmund.  When you get on board you can take what you find here.”

From another ship a man shouted,—­

“Then you will fight, little Estein?  Remember that we are called the bairn-slayers.”

Instantly Thorkel took up the challenge.  Three beakers of ale had made him in his happiest and most warlike mood, and his eyes gleamed almost merrily as he answered,—­

“I know you, Osmund the ugly, by that nose whereon men say you hang the bairns you catch.  Little need have you to do aught save look at them.  Here is a gift for you,” and with that he hurled a spear with so true an aim that, if Osmund had not stooped like a flash, his share in the fight would have come to an end there and then.  As it was, the missile struck another man between the shoulders and laid him on the deck.

“Forward! forward!” cried Liot.  “Forward, Vikings! forward, the men of Liot and Osmund!”

The oars struck the water, the wild chorus swelled into a terrible and tuneless roar, and the ten ships bore down on the two.  With a crash the bows met, and metal rang on metal with the noise of a hundred smithies; the unequal contest had begun.

Overpowering as such odds could hardly fail to prove in the long run, they told more slowly in a sea-fight.  Till the men who manned the bulwarks were thinned, the sides were practically equal, and at first many of the Orkney Vikings were perforce mere spectators.

Gradually, as the men in front were thinned, they poured in from the other ships, fresh men always being pitted against tired, and keen swords meeting hacked.

Liot laid his own ship alongside Estein’s, Osmund attacked Thorkel’s, and the other vessels forced their bows forward wherever they saw an opening.  The Norwegians manned their bulwarks shield to shield, and fought with the courage of despair.  Twice Liot, backed by his boldest men, tried by a headlong rush to force himself on board, and twice he was beaten back.  A third time he charged, and selecting a place where the defenders seemed thinnest, struck down a couple of men with two swinging blows of his axe, and sprang on to the deck.  Three or four