‘ Good,” said the Forkbeard, studying the board.

We heard sobbing from the bond-maids. We looked and saw the slender, blondish girl weeping, her body shaken by sobs, head down.

“Be silentl” said one of the other girls. “They will beat us!”

Gorm was then at her, and struck her five times with his knotted rope.

The slender blond girl stifled her sobs. “Yes, myJarl!” she wept.

Then she put her head down, and was silent, though her body still shook.

The Forkbeard and I returned to our game.

It was at noon of the following day that the lookout cried out, “Serpent to starboard!”

The Forkbeard looked up from the board, swiftly. The men of Ivar Forkbeard, too, suddenly came alive. They rushed to the starboard gunwales. Still they could see nothing. “Benches!” called the Forkbeard. Swiftly his men took their places; I heard the oars slide half outboard.

“Do not disturb the arrangement of the pieces,” said Ivar Forkbeard, leaving the board. He climbed halfway up the knotted rope, halfway up the mast. I stood up. The day was cloudy. The awning had not been stretched this day. It lay rolled between the benches. I could see nothing.

The bond-maids looked about themselves, frightened. Gorm was suddenly among them. He began, one by one, fettering their hands behind their backs. When he had done this, he knelt among them, crossing their ankles, tying them, too, tightly. If there was to be battle, they would be utterly helpless, completely unable to interfere in the least way. They would await the battle’s result, and their disposition; they were females. At the mast, Aelgifu stood, still chained to it by the neck, her wrists still fettered before her.

“It is the serpent of Thorgard of Scagnar,” cried out Forkbeard, much pleased.

“Is he an ally?” I asked.

“No,” laughed the Forkbeard, delighted, “an enemy!”

I saw the men of the Forkbeard grinning, one to the other. The huge feliow, with grayish face, who seemed generally much in lethargy, who had slaughtered with such frenzy in the temple of Kassau, slowly lifted his head. I thought I saw his nostrils flare. His mouth opened slightly, and I saw his teeth.

The Forkbeard then ordered the sail high reefed, set even to the spar.

“Keep her stern to the wind,” he said. The oars slid outboard. Let free the ship will swing prow to the wind.

“We have time,” said Ivar Forkbeard, “for another move or two.”

“I am still attempting to break the Jarl’s Ax’s gambit,” I said.

“Singer to Ax two is not a strong move,” said the Forkbeard.

Twice yesterday, in long games, until the Torvaldsland gulls had left the sea and returned inland, I had failed to meet the gambit.

“You intend to follow it, of course,” said the Forkbeard, “with Jarl to your Ax four.”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Interesting,” said the Forkbeard. “Let us play that variation.”

It was a popular variation in the south. It is seen less frequently in the north. In the south, of course, the response is to the Ubar’s Tarnsman’s gambit. I could see that the Forkbeard, though expecting the variation, given the preceding four moves, was delighted when it had materialized. He had, perhaps, seldom played it.

“The serpent of Thorgard has seen us!” called the lookout, not at all dismayed.

“Excellent,” said Ivar Forkbeard. “Now we will not be forced to wind the signal horns across the water.”

I grinned. “Tell me about Thorgard of Scagnar,” I said.

“He is an enemy,” said Ivar Forkbeard, simply.

“The ships of this Thorgard,” I said, “have often preyed on the shipping of Port Kar.”

“The shipping of Port Kar,” smiled Ivar Forkbeard, “is not uniquely distinguished in this respect.”

“He is, therefore,” said I, “my enemy as well as yours.”

“What is your name?” had asked the Forkbeard.

“Call me Tarl,” I said.

“It is a name of Torvaldsland,” he said. “Are you not ofTorvaldsland?”

“No,” I had told him.

“Tarl what?” he had asked.

“It is enough that you call me Tarl,” I said, smiling.

“Very well,” said he, “but here, to distinguish you from others in the north, we must do better than that.”

“How is that?” I asked.

He looked at my hair, and grinned. “We will call you Tarl Red Hair,” he said.

“Very well,” I said.

“Your city,” he asked, “what is it?”

“You may think of me,” I had said, “as one of Port Kar.”

“Very well,” said he, “but I think we shall not make a great deal of that, for the men of Port Kar are not overly popular in the north.”

“The men of Torvaldsland,” I assured him, “are not overly popular in the south.”

“The men of Port Kar, however,” said the Forkbeard, “are respected in the north.”

“The men of Torvaldslahd,” I told him, “are similarly respected in the south.”

Gorean enemies, if skilled, often hold one another in high regard.

“You play Kaissa well,” had said Ivar Forkbeard. “Let us be friends.”

“You, too, are quite skilled,” I told him. Indeed, he had much bested me. I still had not fathomed the devious variations of the Jarl’s Ax’s gambit as played in the north. I expected, however, to solve it.

We had shaken hands over the board.

“Friend,” he had said. “Friend,” I had said.

We had then tasted salt, each from the back of the wrist of the other.

“The serpent of Thorgard wheels upon us!” called the lookout cheerily.

“Shall I get the great bow from my belongings?” I asked Ivar Forkbeard.

I knew its range well exceeded that of the shorter bows of the north.

“No,” said the Forkbeard.

“Eight pasangs away!” called the lookout. “The serpent hunts us!”

The Forkbeard and I played four more moves. “Fascinating,” he said.

“Four pasangs away!” called the lookout.

“What shield is at his mast?” called the Forkbeard.

“The red shield,” called the lookout.

“Raise no shield to our own mast,” said the Forkbeard.

His men looked at him, puzzled.

“Thorgard is quite proud of his great longship,” he said, “the serpent called Black Sleen.”

I had heard of the ship.

“It has a much higher freeboard area than this vessel,” I told Ivar Forkbeard. “It is a warship, not a raider. In any engagement you would be at a disadvantage.”

The Forkbeard nodded.

“It is said, too,” said I, “to be the swiftest ship in the north.”

“That we will find out,” said the Forkbeard.

“Two pasangs away!” called the lookout.

“It has forty benches,” said Ivar Forkbeard. “Eighty oars, one hundred and sixty rowers.” The benches on only one side, I recalled, are counted. “But her lines are heavy, and she is a weighty ship.”

“Do you intend to engage her?” I asked.

“I would be a fool to do so,” said the Forkbeard. “I have with me the loot ofthe temple of Kassau, and eighteen bond-maids, and lovely Aelgifu. I would have much to lose, and little to gain.”

“That is true,” I said.

“When I engage Thorgard of Scagnar,” said Ivar Eiorkbeard, “I shall do so to my advantage, not his.”

“One pasang!” called the lookout.

“Do not disturb the pieces,” said Ivar, getting up. He said to Gorm, “Take the first bond=maid and draw her up the mast.” Then he said to two others of his men, “Unbind the ankles of the other bond-maids and thrust them to the rail, where they may be seen.” Then he said to the rowers on the starboard side, “When I give the signal, let us display to Thorgard of Scagnar what we can of the riches of the temple of Kassau!”

The men laughed.

“Will we not fight?” asked the giant, slowly.

Ivar Forkbeard went to him, as might have a father, and took his head in his hands, and held it against his chest. “No battle now,” said he, “Rollo. Another time.”