But it was not our lord, and I had never seen this man before. From his
arms, which were of a new pattern to me, he might be one of the host of
Hodulf, as I thought.
"Ho, fisher!" he cried, when he was yet some way from us; "leave your
lads, and come hither. I have a word for you."
He reined up and waited, and now I was sure that he was a Norseman, for
his speech was rougher than ours. He was a tall, handsome man enough;
but I liked neither his voice nor face, nor did I care to hear Grim, my
father, summoned in such wise, not remembering that just now a stranger
could not tell that he was aught but a fisher thrall of the jarl's.
But my father did as he was asked, setting down the nets that he was
carrying, and only taking with him the long boathook on which he had
slung them as he went forward. I suppose he remembered the old saying,
that a man should not stir a step on land without his weapons, as one
never knows when there may be need of them; and so, having no other, he
took this.
I heard the first questions that the man asked, for he spoke loudly.
"Whose man are you?"
"Sigurd's," answered my father shortly.
"Whose are the boats?"
"Mine, seeing that I built them."
"Why, then, there is somewhat that you can do for me," the horseman
said. "Is your time your own, however?"
"If the jarl needs me not.
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