with his love for Christ, have conquered me. Be it known, then, that I desire not Jarl Haakon’s death, but only that he be brought to my presence.”
Thore started to go. Kark stopped him with a sneering laugh. “Thou dost not need to journey far to find thy friend. None know so well as I where Jarl Haakon is. I will bring him before ye this very instant,” and, unwinding the folds of the tunic, he revealed to their horrified gaze the bloody head of the false overlord.
Olaf’s horror gave way to violent anger. Fiercely he glanced at Kark. “Didst thou not say thou wert his thrall? Thou hast murdered him. Thou art a traitor hound.”
Thore flew at the thrall, knife in hand. “I know thee now. Thou art Kark. I will put thy head beside thy master’s.” But Father Meilge’s hand was on Thore’s arm, and Olaf’s voice was thundering in his ear. “Let loose the traitor dog! Thinkest thou I cannot deal with him myself?”
Kark dropped the head upon the ground and turned fiercely to the king. “Didst thou not promise full gold to whosoever brought the earl to thee? I did dream that thou didst put a gold ring about my neck, and I cut off his head to bring it to thee. Thou didst promise a great reward.”
“And what reward should one as false as thou receive? Thou wert his thrall and thou hast murdered him, thou traitor! Truly will I put a ring
