The moon was riding the white spring clouds, flooding the earth with a silver glow that cast shadows almost as though the sun was shining. From the byre, Beorn could hear the thralls chattering with fear. In the sheep-pens, the creatures were bleating quietly, and shuffling about as though they wished to be away from all this.
Out on the fell, a vixen barked three times; a short, sharp sound, as though she knew what was afoot among these fierce men; as though she wished to carry the warning to her litter, and tell them to be away, before their world ended, too.
As they crossed the yard, Starkad said to Beorn, ‘This may be our last walk together, son. So let us go gaily, like grooms to the wedding, and not fearfully, like beasts to the knacker’s shed.’
He slapped Beorn lightly on the back with his sword-flat, and said, ‘Come to think of it, lad, this is what it has all been leading up to. This is why I saved you from Glam that day, on the Iceland shore, so that you would be by me when the ravens came at last for their pickings. Oh, I could wish no better! I have had a goodish life, and now that I am no use for anything but the hearth, it is just as well that I should be called out into the moonlight with my son behind me and a good sword in my hand. Fight well, Beorn, and no man can ask for anything more of you. If one of them gets behind me, through the gateway, don’t call me, to make me turn round and take my eye off the others; just deal with him as best you can. Strike sideways, not down, for you stand better chance of getting him that way. And, just one more thing, strike hard, though it may go against the grain. For a half-lamed Northman is worse than anything; he knows it is to be his end soon, and before he goes, he will take even a wolf with him, though he has nothing but his teeth to use. Good luck to your sword, and, when you hear the “Up-holly-ah!” never give a thought to me, for I shall be well away at my old trade.’
The tears were running down Beorn’s cheeks, but he was not sad; his heart was overflowing with all manner of feelings, and tears were the only words that would come to him. He gave Starkad a slap on the back as they went to open the gates; and that was all he said to his foster-father. But it was enough.
As they drew the wood-bolts, a great voice from the other side bawled out, ‘And time, too! We thought you were saying a saga to one another in there! Come on out now, and either tell us the way down to Blanchland, or give us the satisfaction of sword-play.’
Starkad called back, ‘You’ll get no good word from us, sea-wolf; only the edge of two swords. Take which one you wish, they are both keen.’
Torches were flaring outside and men were jostling and laughing. As Starkad flung the gate wide and leaned his wounded right side against the post, Beorn saw the dull gleam of iron-mesh in the moonlight, and his eye counted more than a dozen men, with swords and axes ready. A big man in a dark bearskin, their leader, was first to step forward. He waved to his fellows to stand back and give him first knock.
‘Come on, grandad,’ he called to Starkad, ‘I do not think we shall be long about our visit, somehow! A grey-beard and a lad are small fences for Jomsvikings to leap.’
Beorn felt his skin prickle at these words; but they seemed to have no effect on Starkad, who set his mouth firmly, and, as the big man swung sideways, thrust out at point’s length with the long sword.
‘Up holly-ah!’ shouted Starkad, with a bark like a dog.
The man in the bearskin gave a sharp cry, and staggered back, his hand to his cheek. ‘By Odin,’ he said, ‘but I know only one man who could sneak through my guard that way, and he died against Holy Island, almost two years ago, trying to hoist a longship back into the currents!’
Then, as he began his next rush, Starkad suddenly flung down his long sword and yelled out, ‘Skallagrim! By all the gods, Jarl Skallagrim!’
Beorn’s eyes nearly jumped from their lids, to see the big man fling down his own weapon and throw back his helmet. Then the two men had arms about each other, and were stumbling round in the moonlight as though they were drunk. Odd and Thorgaut, and half a dozen others from Reindeer, were beside Beorn now, slapping his back so hard that they almost stunned the boy.
And at last Skallagrim shouted, ‘We’ve found the luck of Reindeer again, by the grace of Odin! The lad who can sing us Snorre Pig! Oh, lad, what a treasure—when all we hoped to gain were a few old cups and fiddle-faddles from Blanchland kirk!’
After he had laughed a while longer, and the first greeting was over, he called out, ‘Come away with us, lads, and off to sea again! We’ll find other pickings nearer York; and they say the Humberside men are mighty careless with their cattle these days. That’s where we’ll go!’
But Starkad shook his head and said, ‘My sailing-days are past, Jarl. Come inside and let my wife set food and drink before you. Let us talk of old times. Then be on your way before I change my mind and shorten you all by a head’s length!’
So they met again, and Jarl Skallagrim’s folk feasted so well that they cleaned out Katla’s stock for many a day. And when they had finished, the Jarl rose and said, ‘Lady, I think this Starkad-Baresark is not as daft as he seems. If I had a little farm-steading like this, I might well give up the salt-life myself. But what will be, will be. I must go my way, and it would ill become us to be found snoring here by dawntime. The Blanchland men might not welcome us quite as well as you have done. So, off we go, and good luck to you all. No longship-crew shall ever bother you again while my name stands for anything on the northern seas.’
Then it was that Beorn stepped forward and said, ‘Master Jarl, I was almost on my way to seek my fortune when you came. It now seems to me better bargaining with fate to go with folk I know, than to tread a lone wolf’s track through the woods.’
Jarl Skallagrim said nothing, but gazed first at Starkad and then at Katla. And when he had seen what was in their sad faces, he turned to Beorn and said, ‘On your own head be it, viking. There is a sea-chest for you to sit on, in Reindeer, if your heart is in this thing. I say no more.’
Before dawn, they had gone and the good folk of Blanchland never even knew that they had had visitors in the night.