He answered, "I am eighteen years old."
"A stout man thou art for those years, and thou hast been fortunate also."
Then the king took his right hand, and felt it towards the elbow.
Thorer said, "Take care, for I have a boil upon my arm."
The king held his hand there, and felt there was something hard under it. "Hast thou not heard," said he, "that I am a physician? Let me see the boil."
As Thorer saw it was of no use to conceal it longer, he took off the ring and laid it on the table.
The king asked if that was the gift of King Canute.
Thorer replied that he could not deny it was.
The king ordered him to be seized and laid in irons. Kalf came up and entreated for mercy, and offered money for him, which also was seconded by many; but the king was so wroth that nobody could get in a word. He said Thorer should suffer the doom he had prepared for himself. Thereupon he ordered Thorer to be killed. This deed was much detested in the Uplands, and not less in the Throndhjem country, where many of Thorer's connections were. Kalf took the death of this man much to heart, for he had been his foster-son in childhood.