As he did so, the vikings, bonders, and townfolk fell on their knees, and beyond the altar Sigurd noticed the priests bringing in a white bull for sacrifice. Looking around, he saw that he and Vagn were the only ones standing; others saw it, too, and an angry mutter ran through the vast building, like the low gathering of a storm.
The two boys paled, but stood firm and erect, as Jarl Hakon uttered a short prayer to the war god. When his voice ceased, the mutter behind him swelled into a roar, with fierce shouts of "Kneel!" "Kneel!" "Death to the Christians!"
Hakon turned and raised his hand, the roar dying away at once. When he saw the cause of the tumult his face darkened.
"To your knees, to your knees! Would you insult Thor in his own temple?"
"We kneel to none save the white Christ," spoke out Sigurd boldly, though his heart beat fast.
Hakon's hand flew to his sword, and the crowd surged forward; then the Jarl's hand dropped, and he motioned to one of his men.
"Harald, take these two to the King's Hall and see that no harm comes to them, on your life. Go!"
Without a word the boys followed the man as he led the way out, their heads high and their hands on their swords. The Norsemen made way for them with muttered threats, but gaining the open air, their guide led them through the dark streets, and in a few minutes stopped at the Hall.
They were led to a room, and the door was bolted. At the rasp of the bolt Vagn broke silence.
"Whew! That was a close shave for us, old man! I was scared stiff when you answered Hakon!"