At this time they seemed to gather from the many times they had passed through my mind, and rank themselves against my words.
So it came to pass that I was silent, and was glad presently that so I had been.
"Look!" said Gerda suddenly, pointing out to the far eastward, "yonder are sails on the skyline." Far off they were, but plain enough under the morning sun.

Two white specks on the blue circle's edge, sails of ships which sailed westward, as if beating to windward in long boards against the northeast breeze.

They might be Norse vessels from Dublin on their way homewards, though it had been more easy for such to wait a slant from the south or west.
"They cannot be the ships which have caused the firing of the beacons," I said.

"That trouble was to the westward." I half turned to look at the hills and their fires, and saw our comrades coming to us.

Dalfin was ahead, and plainly excited.
"Malcolm," he cried, so soon as he was within hearing, "I cannot hold back if there is fighting in our land.