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Thore fondled his knife, and a wicked light shone in his evil eyes. He was muttering to himself the old Asa oath. “By the shield of Odin and the hammer of Thor, I swear for the life of yon priest.” Father Meilge glanced across the sward to the spot where Thore stood. The evil eyes had fastened their baneful dart straight in the priest’s face. Father Meilge started as if he had been stung by a serpent, when he met the look. A shudder passed over him. Thore’s glance was so full of hatred that for a moment Father Meilge felt as if the fiery dart of hatred had entered his very soul. Thore saw that the priest had met and understood the look. He laughed bitterly to himself. “Thou mayest well turn pale. Thou wilt be paler still when my vow is kept.” Then he sheathed his knife and hurried to the king’s side. Olaf greeted him kindly, saying, “I would give thee some instructions, for soon we will leave for our journey to Viken.”