King Olaf turned to Thore. “And for whom wouldst thou ask mercy?”
The steward bowed his head, not daring to reply.
Father Meilge spoke to the king. “If with one word thou wouldst pardon thy enemy and help the friend of Thore, it were a noble Christian act.”
Thore looked up in eager inquiry. Olaf smiled encouragingly.
“My King,” the steward said, almost in a whisper, “pity! pity and Christian mercy for my lord, the Jarl Haakon.”
“Jarl Haakon!” cried Olaf in sudden anger, “Thou dost dare to ask pity for the false overlord who hath made such evil use of his power?”
“His power is dead, my King,” Father Meilge said.
“Remember, too, King Olaf,” Thore pleaded, “thou art yet young and hast many years before thee. Jarl Haakon is old. Cut not off his few years of life.”
“But my promise of reward—” protested the king.
“Yea, thy promise of full gold,” angrily protested Kark.
Father Meilge laid his hand upon Olaf’s arm. “The reward can be bestowed and thou canst give Earl Haakon his freedom and his possessions, to dwell his length of days and bless thy mercy.”
“Well,” said the king heartily, “so be it. Thore, with his love for Jarl Haakon, and Father Meilge,
