meaning;
these were the dark horses, and their riders, the Helmed Maidens,
mustering for the battle to which Hightown was faring.

As Biorn stared one night at the thronged heavens, he found Leif by
his elbow. In front of the dark company of the sky a white cloud was
scudding, tinged with the pale moon. Leif quoted from the speech of the
Giant-wife Rimegerd to Helgi in the song:

"Three nines of maiden, ride,
But one rides before them,
A white maid helmed:
From their manes the steeds shake
Dew into the deep dales,
Hail upon the high woods."

"It bodes well," said Biorn. "They ride to choose those whom we slay.
There will be high doings ere Yule."

"Not so well," said Leif. "They come from the Norland, and it is our
folk they go to choose. I fear me Hightown will soon be full of widow
women."

At last came the day of sailing. The six galleys of war were brought
down from their sheds, and on the rollers for the launching he-goats
were bound so that the keels slid blood-stained into the sea. This was
the 'roller-reddening,' a custom bequeathed from their forefathers,
though the old men of the place muttered darkly that the ritual had been
departed from, and that in the great days it was the blood not of goats,
but of captive foemen that had reddened the galleys and the tide.

The thralls sat at the thwarts, for there was no breeze that day in
the narrow firth. Then came the chief warriors in short fur jackets,
splendid in glittering helms and byrnies, and each with his thrall
bearing his battle-axe. Followed the fighting commonalty with axe and
spear. Last came Ironbeard, stern as ever, and Biorn with his heart torn
between eagerness and regret. Only the children, the women, and the old
men were left in Hightown, and they stood on the shingle watching
till the last galley had passed out of sight beyond Siggness, and was
swallowed up in the brume that cloaked the west. There were no tears in
that grim leave-taking. Hightown had faced the like before with a heavy
heart, but with dry eyes and a proud head. Leif, though a cripple, went
with the Wickings, for he had great skill of the sea.

There was not a breath of wind for three days and three nights, as they
coasted southward, with the peaks of the Norland on their port, and to
starboard the skerries that kept guard on the firths. Through the haze
they could now and then see to landward trees and cliffs, but never a
human face. Once t