Then Odda said: 

“What wills he? we have no traffic with Danes.”

“He would speak with King Ranald,” the man said.

Then said I: 

“If it is Osmund the jarl, I think I know why he comes.—­Let him come in here and speak before you, ealdorman.”

“Why, do you know him?”

“I cannot rightly say that I do, but I nearly came to do so.”

Then Odda wondered, and answered: 

“Forgive me; one grows suspicious about these Danes.  I will go hence, and you shall speak with him alone.  Maybe he wants your word with the king, because you know the ways of the viking hosts.”

“No,” said I; “stay here.  Whatever it is he has to say cannot be private; nor would I hear anything from him that you might not.”

“As you will.  Let him come here,” Odda said; and the man went out.

Then entered Jarl Osmund, richly dressed for the king’s feast, and he looked from one of us to the other as we rose to greet him.  Suddenly he smiled grimly.

“I looked to find strangers, and was about to ask for King Ranald.  However, Odda the ealdorman and I have met before, as I am certain.”

“Faith, we have,” said Odda.  “Nor am I likely to forget it.  It was at Ashdown fight.”

“And elsewhere,” said the jarl.  “But it was ever fair fighting between us.”

“Else had you slain me when I was down,” said Odda frankly, and with a smile coming into his face.

“The score is even on that count,” said Osmund, and with that, with one accord their hands met, and they laughed at each other.

That was good to see, and ever should things be so between brave foes and honest.

Then Osmund looked at me.

“Now have I met with two men whom I have longed to see,” he said, “for you must be King Ranald Vemundsson.  Two foes I have—­if it must be so said—­of whom I have nought but good to say.”

“So,” laughed Odda.  “When fought you twain, and which let the other go?”

“We have not fought,” the jarl answered.  “But I have deeper reason for thanking Ranald than for sparing my own life, or for staying a blow in time out of sheer love of fair play.”

Then he took my hand and looked me in the face.

“It was a good deed and noble that you wrought for me but the other day,” he said earnestly.  “I do not know how to thank you enough.  My daughter laid command on me that I should seek you and tell you this; but indeed I needed no bidding when I heard how she escaped.”

“I had been nidring had I not helped a lady in need,” I said, being in want of better words.

“What is all this?” said Odda; for I had told him nought of the matter, not seeing any reason to do so.

Then Osmund must needs tell him of what Kolgrim and I had done; and the ealdorman laughed at me, though one might see that the affair pleased him.

“This king,” he said, “having no kingdom of his own, as he says, goes about helping seasick ealdormen and lonely damsels, whereby he will end with more trouble on his hands than any kingdom would give him.”