After Harald had stated his views, and assured them that his great aim was to consolidate the kingdom and to prevent the evils that flowed from the almost unlimited independence of the petty kings, he asked the assembly to aid him in carrying out his wishes, and to set an example of fidelity and obedience, which would restrain others from showing that unseemly opposition to him which had only resulted in severe and merited punishment.
He then sat down amid a murmur of mingled applause and disapprobation.
After a few minutes of animated converse among themselves, there arose an old man with a bald head, a flowing beard, and sightless eyes. He was the “lagman” or district judge, and law-expounder of Horlingdal. Deep silence ensued, and he said, in a decided though somewhat tremulous tone—
“King Harald, I am a very old man now, and can remember the time when your noble sire, Halfdan the Black, ruled in Norway. I have fought by his side, and lost my eyes in his service—in a fight in which our opponents gave us the tooth-ache. (Norse expression signifying ‘the worst of it.’) I have also heard him speak those words of wisdom to which you have referred, and have seen him bow to the laws which were made not by himself, but by him in conjunction with the Thing legally assembled for the purpose.”
There was a loud murmur of applause at this point.
“And now that we have heard the King’s opinions,” continued the old man, turning to the people, “and know that his intentions are good, although the manner in which he has set about carrying them into effect is undoubtedly wrong, my counsel is that we nevertheless submit to him in this matter, for we know that a great number of the small kings have already submitted, and it were better to have a beneficial change—even when not carried out exactly according to law—than to plunge this country into prolonged and useless warfare, in which much blood will assuredly be spilt, and nothing of any value gained.”
The lagman sat down, but only a few of those present indicated their approval of his sentiments.
Immediately Haldor the Fierce stood up, and men could see that his spirit was stirred within him, for a dark frown lowered on a brow which was at most times fair and unruffled like the summer sky. There was deep silence in the assembly before he began to speak, and the King, despite the suppressed anger which rankled in his breast, could not choose but look upon his commanding figure with respect, also with surprise, for he recognised the strong resemblance between him and Erling, though he knew not their relationship.
“I agree not,” said Haldor, “with what has just been said by our respected lagman. A change, even for the better, ought never to be accepted if not made according to law, No one can say that any change will certainly be for the better until it is tried; and should this one, perchance, turn out for the worse, then shall we have neither advantage nor law on our side. For my part I had rather see my country plunged into warfare—which no one, unless he is gifted with the foreknowledge of the gods, can say will be either prolonged or useless—than see her laws trampled under foot; for well do I know that, if the King be permitted to make himself an outlaw, blood will be kept boiling perpetually from one end of the land to the other, and it were better, methinks, that that blood should spill than boil. My counsel is, that the King be advised to call a Thing in the regular way, so that the changes he would make shall be fully considered, and either be made law or rejected; for, if he attempts to enforce his plans on us as he has done on other small kings, we will assuredly resist him as long as there is a man left in the district to wield a battle-axe.”
There was a great shout and clash of arms when this was said, and the King’s face became crimson with rage, for he saw clearly that the feeling of the majority was against him.