This was so shrewd an act that it extorted from Harold, even if he did see through it, a reluctant admiration.
A third man,—a peasant, named Högne Langbjörnsson—to whom the emissaries came, made them this answer:
"I did not think King Sweyn had heard of me, who am only a common peasant, but my answer to him is this: that if he comes to Norway with war-shield, no peasant's son shall do him more harm than I."
When this reply was reported to Harold he was greatly pleased, and presently offered Högne, as a reward for his fidelity, the title of liegeman, which was the highest dignity next to that of earl. But Högne was also proof against this temptation.
"All the friendship which you show me, my lord," he said, "I accept with thanks. But the title of liegeman I will not have, for I well know how things will go. When the liegemen came together they would say: 'Högne shall have the lowest seat, for he is only of peasant race, and thus the lowest of the liegemen.' My dignity would then not bring me honor, but shame. Far greater honor it is to be called a peasant and have the peasants say when they come together, that Högne is the foremost among them."
It is this sturdy sense of independence among peasants which makes Norwegian history unlike the history of any other country, and Norway the fountain-head of constitutional liberty in Europe. It was upon this rock that feudalism was wrecked in Norway, while it sailed triumphant down the current of history in Sweden, in Denmark, and all other European lands.
King Harold could not help recognizing this proud integrity, even when found in his enemies. He was more kindly disposed even toward Einar Thambarskelver after having become assured of his loyalty. In order to put an end to all differences between them, he invited the old man to a feast at the royal mansion in Nidaros, gave him the seat of honor next to himself, and entertained him in princely fashion. The horns were industriously drained, and Einar, who was nearly eighty years old, grew sleepy. As ill-luck would have it, the king was just then telling of his adventures in Constantinople, and he regarded the sleepiness of his guest as a mark of disrespect. He directed one of his men to play a rough trick on the sleeper, in return for which Einar, the next day, had the man slain. The old enmity then broke out afresh; and Harold, weary of the humiliations he had had to suffer, determined to rid himself of his foe. Under pretence of wishing to make peace with him, he invited him to a meeting. Einar came with his son Eindride and a large crowd of followers. The king, having concealed assassins in the hall, had covered up the smoke-hole so as to exclude the light. As Einar entered, leaving his son at the door outside, he expressed his astonishment at the darkness.
"Dark it is in the king's hall," he said.
The murderers immediately fell upon him and cut him down.
"Sharp are the fangs of the king's hounds," he cried.