“This here is but slanderous talk against our King!” exclaimed a stout bald man and shot up to his feet, so irked that he knocked his chair over. “I expected more of you, Eyolf Sólhrafn!”

In blatant calm, Eyolf merely crossed his legs elegantly at one side in his armchair. On benches arranged on the grassy heath, men chattered, looking from their chieftain to the men seated at his sides before the audience: Eyolf Sólhrafn and Yngvar Eindride. 

The seiðmaðr had replaced his feathered ritual gown with a long rusty tunic that fell nearly to the ankles of his trousers, and his feet were no longer bare. He gestured in mock-stupour, accompanied by the clinking of the rings and bracelets adorning his hands:

“Oh, is our king a tyrant, that he does not allow a tax-paying resident of his kingdom to voice his concerns? Why, that would go against those freedom speeches he was giving last year at his coronation, wouldn't it?” a sarcastic smile flourished on his lips. “Besides, I don't think my... disaccord... with King Olaf Tryggvason at the last Althing is a secret to anyone. The King announced a religious reform. I am a religious man and his reform contradicts my way of living - did you honestly expect me to sit and swallow obediently?”

The bald man scoffed, not convinced:

“Hmph, a seiðmaðr, not only meddling in governing affairs but associating with firebrands like Yngvar Eindride, who knows only revolts and chaos...”

Eyolf could not forbear a grin and glanced at Yngvar, whose narrow coal-lined eyes – until then sharp and critical - sketched a prideful content.

“Wait, Lodin, wait - who said anything about a revolt?” the chieftain intervened, appeasingly and in a forced light-tone. “We're merely discussing the new reform. And what better experts in this field should I have called before you than an acknowledged seiðmaðr and the far-travelled warrior, entrepreneur, and former counsellor of the King: Yngvar Eindride?”

But the man pointed an accusing finger at Yngvar, as if denouncing a traitor:

“Yes, we know of his enterprises in Hálogaland and of his short-lived career as second-in-command to the King. But we also know how he plotted the downfall of Jarl Sigurdsson of Hladir who ruled this kingdom for twenty years! And a gruesome downfall that was – decapitated in a pigsty and his severed head hanged at Niðarsholm to be stoned by the peasants!” To this, the audience approved. “And now he decided the crown would sit better on his own head!”

Hakon Snarr - who had been patting his long pointed beard all the while during the conversations, his expression ranging from content to amusement – now suddenly burst in rage:

“Don't you dare accuse Yngvar of opportunism!” and sprang at the bald man as though about to strike him; his kinsmen backed him tensely, and Hakon's companions stood up as well, but he merely gestured vigorously. “Jarl Sigurdsson was crooked as a poorly-hammered nail, he deserved what he got! When Yngvar and I decided to plot against him, we knew who he was, what humiliations he'd subject the peasants to...”

At that moment, Yngvar Eindride himself stood up to his full height. The blue tunic on his broad shoulders reached black knee-high boots, and he walked stately up onto the raised wooden platform on the heath, chin high in a stately posture as he looked at the audience. His voice was deep, even-toned and dispassioned, but something menacing was in its coldness:

“Why do you speak on my behalf, Hakon Snarr? And why do you, Lodin of Hraunsund, not look me in the eye and address me directly when I am standing right before you?” The bald man and his companions said nothing, so Yngvar went on: “I have come to talk to you about faith and duty, about honour and compliance, about the future. I have come, as a man who's seen King Olaf at his best as well as his worst, who's devised with him strategies to govern the kingdom, who was there when he - in a near-death experience - dreamed that was chosen by the Christian god for a mission. I have come to answer your inquiries - so, ask!”

The men fidgeted and whispered, then Lodin took word again:

“You paint him as a madman - he says you've betrayed him and now seek power at all costs. Why would we believe your word against the King's?”

“I'm not here to tell you what to believe – that is King Olaf's way. I'll tell you his story, and then let you glean on your own.”