was rude stuff, and the Queen had
forbidden the maids to sing it.

As he grew older he was allowed to sit with the men in the hall, when
bows were being stretched and bowstrings knotted and spear-hafts fitted.
He would sit mum in a corner, listening with both ears to the talk of
the old franklins, with their endless grumbles about lost cattle and
ill neighbours. Better he liked the bragging of the young warriors,
the Bearsarks, who were the spear-head in all the forays. At the great
feasts of Yule-tide he was soon sent packing, for there were wild scenes
when the ale flowed freely, though his father, King Ironbeard, ruled his
hall with a strong hand. From the speech of his elders Biorn made his
picture of the world beyond the firths. It was a world of gloom and
terror, yet shot with a strange brightness. The High Gods might be met
with in beggar's guise at any ferry, jovial fellows and good friends to
brave men, for they themselves had to fight for their lives, and the End
of All Things hung over them like a cloud. Yet till the day of Ragnarok
there would be feasting and fine fighting and goodly fellowship, and a
stout heart must live for the hour.

Leif the Outborn was his chief friend. The man was no warrior, being
lame of a leg and lean and sharp as a heron. No one knew his begetting,
for he had been found as a child on the high fells. Some said he was
come of the Finns, and his ill-wishers would have it that his birthplace
had been behind a foss, and that he had the blood of dwarves in him. Yet
though he made sport for the company, he had respect from them, for he
was wise in many things, a skilled leech, a maker of runes, and a crafty
builder of ships. He was a master hand at riddles, and for hours the
housecarles would puzzle their wits over his efforts. This was the
manner of them. "Who," Leif would ask, "are the merry maids that glide
above the land to the joy of their father; in winter they bear a white
shield, but black in summer?" The answer was "Snowflakes and rain." Or
"I saw a corpse sitting on a corpse, a blind one riding on a lifeless
steed?" to which the reply was "A dead horse on an ice-floe." Biorn
never guessed any of the riddles, but the cleverness of them he thought
miraculous, and the others roared with glee at their own obtuseness.

But Leif had different moods, for sometimes he would tell tales, and all
were hushed in a pleasant awe. The fire on the hearth was suffered to
die down, and men dre