There were a dozen men of rank round us at once, with Hakon at their head.

There were not so many warriors to be seen as one might have expected, but all were picked men and well armed.
As for Hakon himself, I have never seen a more handsome young man.
He was about seventeen at this time, and might have been taken for three years older, being tall and broad of shoulder, with the wonderful yellow hair and piercing eyes of his father Harald, whom he was most like, as all men knew.

It was certain that he did the great English king, Athelstane, who had fostered him, credit, for he was in all ways most kinglike even now.
He took off the blue cap he wore as he went to meet Gerda, and greeted her with all courtesy, asking to know her name.

She answered him frankly, though it was plain that the gaze of all the strange faces disquieted her.
"I am Gerda, granddaughter of that Thorwald who was a king in the south lands in the time of your great father, King Hakon," she said.

"I have been wrecked here with these friends, who have cared for me, and now will ask for your help." "They will tell me all the story," said Hakon.