A Slave's Tale

12

12 As WE WALKED to Earl Hakon's hall, many people came out of their dwellings to see us. According to the standards of Rogen we were richly dressed. But someone said as we passed, "They look like a group of farmers, from mountains where the grazing is so poor that a man counts himself rich if he owns a cow." The awareness of our poverty made us walk close together, and look at the people about us as if they were our enemies . Though Hakon was almost as tall as a full-grown man, his father's great sword, that he wore from his belt, made him seem small. Only Erp the Traveler seemed undisturbed; but he was known in Tronhjem, and had some fame as a steersman, even here. I had been told so much about the hall of Earl Hakon that when I finally saw it, I wasdisappointed. True, it was at least five times the size of our hall on Rogen. Still the materials that had been used in its making were the same, while the hall I had built in my imagination had not been limited by beams or boards or stones. The doors of the entrance impressed us all; and it was not alone because of their size — though they were twice as tall as a man, and when they were open, four men could enter abreast— but they were beauti86 fully carved and there was a ring of gold that opened the latch. Of this ring, many men had spoken. Its weight in gold was such that it could have purchased three longships the size of Munin. One of the older men, Sigmund the Hairless, who had — already as a very young man — lost all the hair on his head, let his fingers glide around it, caressing it gently as a woman does her firstborn. "That ring has caused many a man to have evil dreams," he said, and returned his hand to the hilt of his sword, as if he had burned it. "Gold, though soft and of little use, is yet stronger than the steel of a sword." We had all turned to look at the speaker of these words. He stood a few steps from us, and gazed at us with such contempt that he seemed proud of not hiding it. He was not tall, but was very broadly built. He must have been strong when young, but the eating of too much pork had made him fat. He \vore no sword or weapon of any kind. His dress was a mixture of very costly materials and very plain wool. Erp the Traveler whispered something to Hakon. Hakon glanced unbelievingly at the stranger and said, "Go tell your master that Hakon Olafson of Rogen is here and wants to speak with him." The man did not move; but smiled back insolently, as if he had not heard what Hakon had said. "Earl Hakon must have a kind heart, to keep such a slave about him." Hakon's remark made me look at the man with wonder: Was he a slave? The green cloak that was flung over his shoulders was finer than the blue one that 87 Hakon wore. "It is Kark," Magnus whispered in my ear; and then to make certain I understood what he meant, he added, "Earl Hakon's slave." All of us had heard of Kark, who had been born on the same night as the Earl, and had always been his slave. Kark \vas tied to his master, as a shadow is to a man; but like the shadow, Kark mirrored that part of the Earl's soul that grown men shuddered to think about. It was said that it was Kark who on the order of his master had killed Earl Hakon's own son, Erling, to offer him to the Valkyrie (whose name is Torgerde Holgasbride) in order to win victory over the Vikings of Jomscastle. But the ear should not trust all that it hears, for other people have said that Erling was Earl Hakon's favorite son and that he had died of a cough. The story of the offering of Erling, these people claim, was invented by the Earl's enemies, who believe in the new god. "My memory is not what it used to be," Kark was saying. "What was your name? It passed by me like...