died without a blow. Erlend, boy, thou dost weary me. I would learn further of this wife of Brynjulf. What name has she, Kark?”
“She is called Aasa, my Jarl, and there is no other so beautiful in thy kingdom. All the best of the land is thine, and why yield this fairest of women to a low born hind, whom thou canst pay for his wife with a handful of gold?”
“My father, listen, and thou, hound of a Kark, keep silent.”
“Erlend, boy! I will have none of thy preaching. Thou art fit to mate with an Irish bishop. But I am a Norseman. Odin and Thor, and the woman for every year that they gave our fathers is religion enough for me. I will have none of the pale, bleeding Christ, and the one woman for youth and old age, that the Christians have. But I will beware. I have not forgotten how Sigurd Sleva met the dagger of the peasant at the Thing of Vors, before thou wert born, lad. Kark here and a few thralls will go into Gauldale and bring back this Aasa; and we will sail away before the brave peasants whom thou dost fear so greatly will have time to hear the news. Go now, my Kark, my faithful thrall. We have been boy and man together since thou wert given to me as my tooth gift. Take thou a few thralls and mind, no bloodshed, if thou canst help it. Say to Brynjulf that I will give him full gold for the woman.”
Brynjulf, a prominent farmer in the fertile prov-
