“I have sent for thee, Erling,” said the King, in a voice so soft, yet so constrained, that Erling could not avoid seeing that it was forced, “to tell thee thou art at liberty to return to thy dalesmen with this message—King Harald respects the opinions of the men of Horlingdal, and he will hold a Thing at the Springs for the purpose of hearing their views more fully, stating his own, and consulting with them about the whole matter.—Art satisfied with that?” he asked, almost sternly.
“I will convey your message,” said Erling.
“And the sooner the better,” said the King. “By the way, there are two roads leading to the Springs, I am told; is it so?” he added.
“There are,” said Erling; “one goes by the uplands over the fells, the other through the forest.”
“Which would you recommend me to follow when I fare to the Springs?”
“The forest road is the best.”
“It is that which thou wilt follow, I suppose?”
“It is,” replied Erling.
“Well, get thee to horse, and make the most of thy time; my berserk here will guide thee past the guards.”
As he spoke, a man who had stood behind the King motionless as a statue advanced towards the door. He was one of a peculiar class of men who formed part of the bodyguard of the King. On his head there was a plain steel helmet, but he wore no “serk”, or shirt of mail (hence the name of berserk, or bare of serk), and he was, like the rest of his comrades, noted for being capable of working himself up into such a fury of madness while in action, that few people of ordinary powers could stand before his terrible onset. He was called Hake, the berserk of Hadeland, and was comparatively short in stature, but looked shorter than he really was, in consequence of the unnatural breadth and bulk of his chest and shoulders. Hake led Erling out to the door of the house, where they found Glumm waiting with two horses ready for the road.