this one and that had been won. The ship had put in here to wait
for wind, and of course we were glad to see her crew and hear what
news they had of the greater world.

"Friend," I said, "it is hard that you should be brought to this
pass."

"It has been the best fight I ever knew," he answered. "The only
pity is that it has gone the wrong way. But yonder is a grand
funeral pile for the brave men who have fallen. Surely the smoke
will bring down the whole countryside on these ruffians?"

I shook my head. What happened to us was the affair of no Scot.
Rather they would be setting their own places in order in case
their turn came next.

"Well," said Dalfin, "whom are we fighting, then?"

One of our men answered him. He was a Norseman, named Sidroc.

"Red hand, wandering Vikings. Wastrels from every land, and no
man's men. Most of them are Danes, but I have heard the tongues of
Frisian and Finn and Northumbrian amongst them. We are in evil
case, for slavery is the least we have to fear."

"Nay," said Dalfin; "death is a lesser evil than that."

"A man may make shift to escape from slavery," answered the other,
and both were silent.