So we took leave of the old man then, for he was feeble, and time was very short.  He bade us remember that day by day in the little chapel our names, and the name of Hakon also, would not be forgotten; and blessed us, and went to his cell.  Then one of the brothers came and asked Gerda to see what she had left in her cell, for none had touched it yet, and she went with him.  Soon she came out with that little silver cup, which we had found in the penthouse when we first opened it, and asked me if she might give it to the hermits.

“They will have no use for it,” I said, smiling at the thought.

“I think they will,” she said.  “Ask, for I cannot.”

So I asked the brother who was with us, and he looked at the cup gravely.  It was wrought with a strangely twisted and plaited pattern.

“Why, yes,” he said.  “I myself can set a stem to it, and thereafter it will be a treasure to us, for our chalice is but of white metal.  It will mind us of you every day, in ways which are more wondrous than you can yet know.  We may take it, therefore, but you must not offer us aught else.  We are vowed to poverty.”

Now, I did not know of what he spoke, but Gerda did in some way, which is beyond me.  Wherefore she was more than content.  It is my thought that all her days it will be a good and pleasant thing to mind the use that cup came to at the last, and where it is.

The treasure was all on board Hakon’s ship, and we must go with the tide.  The Danes were unbound and sent to help Thoralf on the ship which had been theirs, with the offer of freedom if they worked well; and I will add that they gave no trouble, and took service with Hakon as free men afterward, having learnt the good of honesty.  The hermits saw us to the shore, and so we left them, and the ships hoisted sail to a fair breeze, and were away for Norway and what lay before Hakon when he came thither.  And if the blessings and prayers of the hermits availed aught, he would do well.

Now, we had to gather men for this warfare that might be to come.  There were Norsemen in the Scottish islands everywhere who would join him, for thither had fled many who were not friendly with Eric, and the Orkney and Shetland Islands held more still.  So we sailed up the narrow seas among the isles, finding here one man, and here a dozen, until the ships were fully manned, and that with such a force as any leader might go far with, for the men served, not for pay alone, but also for hope in Hakon, and to regain their old homes in the old land.  Moreover, two chiefs joined him with their ships and crews in Hebrides, and there we heard news of Eric, and how that men hated him, and would rise for Hakon everywhere when once they knew that he was in the land.

So that was a long voyage and pleasant to me, nor did I seem to care how long it lasted.  Maybe the reason for that is not far to seek, for I could not tell what more I might see of Gerda when it ended.  For I knew only too well that I had naught to offer her, being but a landless man, with nothing but my sword for heritage.  And as the days passed, it seemed to me that in some way Gerda kept herself afar from me, being more ready to speak with Hakon and Bertric than myself, though again at times she was as ever with myself in all ways.