“Now, Lady Gerda,” said Bertric, “we are under way once more, and the question is, Whither?  How far are we from the Norway coast?”

“I cannot tell,” she answered.  “It was a little before noon, however, when the ship was set afloat, as I have told you.”

“We overhauled her at sunset,” he said thoughtfully.  “At that time she was not doing more than four knots.  Maybe we are fifty miles from shore, for she may have done better than that, though I doubt it, seeing how wildly she sailed.  Now we can hardly beat back there, for we are too few to work the sail.”

“It is as well,” she answered sadly.  “There wait Arnkel and Heidrek.”

“We think that Arnkel may have made an end of Heidrek’s power,” I said.

At that she shook her head.

“Arnkel has had old dealings with Heidrek.  He has sailed with him, I know.  It is more likely that after he had done with me, he made some sort of terms with him, finding out who the attackers were.  We did not know at first, but I heard the men name Heidrek as the ship was fired.”

“Well, then,” Bertric said, after a little thought, “we must try to make the Shetlands or the Orkneys.  Malcolm will find us friends there.”

So, that being quite possible if the wind held, and I being sure of welcome for my father’s sake, we set a course for Shetland as nearly as we could judge it.  The ship sailed wonderfully well and swiftly, even under the shortened canvas, and Bertric was happy as he steered her.  And at his side on the bench sat the Lady Gerda, silently looking ever eastward toward the home she had lost, while I and Dalfin well-nigh dozed in the sun on the warm deck amidships in all content, for things went well with us.

Presently Gerda rose up and came forward, as if she would go to her awning, and I went to help her over the timbers again.

“Come forward with me,” she said; “I have something I must say to you.”

I followed her, and she went to the gunwale, close to the penthouse, where she was screened from Dalfin, and leant on it.

“You are of my own folk,” she said, “and of the old faith, and therefore I can tell you what is troubling me.  These other two good friends are of the new faith I have heard of, for I saw them sign their holy sign ere they ate, and you signed Thor’s hammer over the meat.”

“They are Christians,” I said; “but I have nothing ill to say of that faith, for I have known many of them in Scotland.  I am Odin’s man.”

“I have heard nothing but ill,” she said.  “I was frightened when I knew that they were not Odin’s men.  Will they keep faith with me?”

“To the last,” I answered.  “Have no fear of that.  It is one thing which the Christian folk are taught to do before all else.”

“I think that I could not mistrust these two in any case,” she said; “but all this is not what I would speak of, though it came uppermost.  What I am troubling about is this which lies here,” and she set her hand for a moment on the penthouse.  “What shall be done?  For now we cannot fire the ship.”