A Sea Queens Sailing | Page 7

foolish. It was a cask of our old heather ale which they
had broached, and that is potent, if to the unwary it seems harmless
enough. Once or twice Asbiorn called to the noisiest to be still, but they
heeded him little.
Soon, however, the noise ceased, and we thought that most of the men
slept. After that was no sound but the wash of the waves, and the hum
of the sail, and the creak of the great steering oar as Asbiorn met the
luff of the ship across the long, smooth sweep of the waves.
We, too, grew drowsy, for the cabin was close and warm beneath the
sunny decks. All that could be said was said, and so we slept, if it were
but uneasily.

Chapter 2
: Men Of Three Kingdoms.
I was roused before long by a tapping on the deck overhead, which
came now and again as if Asbiorn, who was steering still, was beating
time to some air. So he was, for soon he began to whistle softly, and
then to hum to himself. I will not say that the music was much; but he
sat barely a fathom from the open hatch, and presently the words he
sang caught my ear. They were of no song I had ever heard, and they
seemed to have little meaning in them. I listened idly, and the next
thing was that I knew, with a great leap of my heart, that what he sang,
or pretended to sing, was meant for myself. It could only be so, for he
sang of the Orkney Isles to the east of us, and of a boat, and of two men
who could win thereto if they dared to try.

"Listen, Dalfin," I said, and my comrade started up eagerly.
Asbiorn heard the movement, and he seemed to lean toward the hatch.
"Jarl's son," he hummed, "come under the hatch and listen. Is it in your
mind to get away from us?"
I set my head through the little square opening carefully, and looked
round. There was a bale of canvas, plunder from our ship sheds, across
the break of the deck, and I could not be seen by the men, while
Asbiorn was alone at the helm. It was almost as light as day, with the
strange shadowless brightness of our northern June, when the glow of
the sunset never leaves the sky till it blends with that of sunrise.
"Your boat is towing aft," he said, still singing, as one may say. "It is
shame to keep chiefs in thralldom thus; and I will not do it. Now, I am
going forward, and you can drop overboard and take her. The men are
asleep, and will not wake."
"What of my men?" I said.
"Glad enough they will be that you have escaped," he said. "They will
be all the more ready to do so themselves when they have the chance.
They shall have such as I can give them. Leave them to me, for they
fought and stood by you well."
"Asbiorn," I said then, "maybe I shall be able to thank you for this
someday."
"Mayhap," he answered lightly. "Now, no more words; but take your
chance as it comes. The sail is in the boat, and the course is due east
hence. If the wind holds you should make the land by to morrow at
noon. Hasten, for your time is short. There is a watch forward, and they
may see you."
He lashed the helm with a deft turn or two, and stood for a moment
with his eyes on the sail. The ship was heading due north, and
Heidrek's two ships were some three miles ahead of us. This ship of
ours was slow, if stout and weatherly. Then he went forward quickly,
never looking behind him.
"Have you heard, Dalfin?" I asked; and he answered that he had, and
that he was ready.
"Follow me closely," I said. "I am going to cast off the boat's painter
and go over the side with it in my hand. You will be close on me."
With that I drew myself up through the hatch, and crawled under cover
of the long bale of canvas--which, doubtless, Asbiorn had set where it

was on purpose--to the cleat, cast off the line, and swung myself
overboard with as little noise as possible. The boat came up and nearly
ran over me; but I had expected that, and was ready. The ship slipped
away from me strangely quickly. Still, there was no shout from her, and
so far all was well. Then came Dalfin, later than I had expected, for his
head was at my heels as I left the hatchway.
He came slowly over the gunwale on