It was plain that the Danes knew what the roofs over the ships were
for, since all the while that we wrought we could see them pointing
and laughing one to another in scorn, from where we lay, not much
beyond arrow shot below them. But not one of all the men on the
bridge could have guessed what our real plan might be. Only we who
looked at the ancient bridge from the water, and marked how frail
and decaying some of the piles that upheld its narrow spans were,
knew how likely it was that Olaf's plan would succeed. The wide
roadway seemed to them to be strong enough for the wooden towers
and the many tons of stones they had burdened it with; but now that
Olaf had showed us, we saw that it was none so safe, so we waited
in good spirits.

The tide reached its height and as the ships swung idly to their
cables on the slack, the Danes thronged the bridge, thinking,
doubtless, that we should attack when they were within reach, as
yesterday.

The hum of their voices came down to us, and as the time went by,
and the ebb tide set in, the hum strengthened into a long roar of
voices, that broke out into a yelling laugh now and then, as some
word of scorn went round. For they thought our Norsemen were
afraid.

But they could not see beneath the penthouse roofs, where the men,
three at each oar, were armed and ready. Nor could they see the
gangs of twelve men told off to the cables on each foredeck. Six of
these were to pass the cables round the piles and make fast while
the other six were to stand by with shields ready, in case the
roofs were broken. But even then it should not take long to do all