But before we came to stern fighting, I had a word to say; so I called for Odda.

A square built, brown-bearded man with a red, angry face pushed his way to the front of his men, and frowned at me.

“What will you? here am I,” he said shortly.

One could understand his words well enough when face to face, for he spoke in the mixed tongue that any Northman understands, the plain words of which all our kin have in common.

“I am no foe of Alfred’s,” I said; “I do not know, therefore, why I should fight you.”

“Are you not for the Danes?” he said.

“I hate them more or less, and I have no traffic with them.”

“Well, then, what will you?”

“You bade me yield, and therefore I am here.  Now I think it is a matter to be seen whether of us does so.”

“It seems that you have slain about half my men,” he said.  “Nevertheless, I do not give up without fighting for the rest of my ship that you have not won.”

“That is well said,” I answered.

But the men were laughing, for Kolgrim had stooped, and, reaching under an oar bench, had dragged out a rower by the neck.  The man swore and struggled; but Kolgrim hove him up, and lifted him over the yard to Odda’s feet.

“They are all like that, Saxon,” he said cheerfully.  “Maybe there is a head or two broken; ’tis mostly what we call seasickness, however.”

Odda looked at the man, who seemed wretched enough, but had no hurt; then he stared at our laughing faces, and his own brow began to clear.

“It comes into my mind,” he said, “that maybe you would listen to me if I owned first that you have the best of us, and then asked you to fight for Alfred of Wessex.  We need the help of such men as you just now; and if you hate Danes, we have work enough for you.”

“One may certainly listen to that,” I answered, laughing.

“What say you, men?  Shall we cast in our lot with Alfred for a while?”

“We follow you, Ranald the king,” Kolgrim answered for all.  “If it seems good to you, it is good for us.  There will be fighting enough, I trow, if all we have heard is true.”

Then said Odda: 

“And that before long.  There is a Danish fleet in Poole Harbour that is to bring Danes from Wareham to the help of those whom Alfred holds in Exeter.  We have to meet this fleet and scatter it.”

“Then,” said old Thord, “your men must be better handled, for Danes are no new swordsmen or seamen either.”

Now the men stood listening to our talk, and this sort of saying was not good for them to hear, if they were to meet the foe soon with a good hope of victory.  So Odda said quickly: 

“If you will indeed fight for us, you must trust to Alfred to give you fitting reward.  I do not know what I might say about that, having thought of no such chance as this.  But there is no man who can complain of him.”