But it can scarce be easy to beg your way in midwinter from Bergen to Nidaros.
Jatgeir.
The fortunes of the Birchlegs move in a ring; they began hungry and frozen, and now they end in like case.
Paul Flida.
’Tis rumoured in Bergen that Håkon has forsworn the Church and all that is holy; he heard not mass on New Year’s day.
Bård Bratte.
He could plead lawful hindrance, Paul; he stood all day cutting his silver goblets and dishes to pieces—he had naught else wherewith to pay his household.
[Laughter and loud talk among the guests.
King Skule.
[Raises his goblet.] I drink to you, Bård Bratte, and thank you and all my new men. You fought manfully for me at Låka, and bore a great part in the victory.