Another uproar arose across the hall at Thorson’s accusation.
Some were screaming for the blood of the fallen Norseman.
Others were demanding proof.
Some were shouting for justice.
The Earl banged at his table until his mead began to spill.
Then he stood up, his chair falling behind him.
“Silence!” the man roared, and the assembled men fell quiet.
“You all know the tradition and our laws.
An accusation of murder has been made by this boy, and the accused man stands in our midst.”
Haraldson fell quiet and turned to where Agsken and his group were seated.
There was not even a trace of fear in the man’s eyes.
It was almost as though this was the very thing he had been waiting for.
“Agsken, before the gods and everyone gathered here, you have been accused of murder.
What is your answer?”
Agsken stood and took a few seconds to stare at the men who were glaring at him, some furiously, some awaiting his answer.
“I bear no fault Lord Earl…
I do not understand the boy’s accusation.
I answered the screams just like all the men who were gathered there.
I am as innocent as any of them.”
And with that, Agsken fell back into his seat.
Another murmur began to rise, but Haraldson stopped it before it got out of hand.
“You have heard the man you accuse, boy.
Do you have any proof or any witness to back your claims?”
Thorson turned to the group he had come with.
He could recognize a few men among them, men who had been there the previous night.
None of them, however, was likely to support his claim that Agsken had been the murderer, since he hadn’t been caught in the act.
“I do, Earl,” Thorson said desperately.
“I call Torstein.”
The man stared at him as if he had gone mad, but he got to his feet nonetheless.
Haraldson did not bother standing this time.
“Torstein, you stand before gods and men, having been called forward to testify to this boy’s claim that Agsken was behind the murder of his master’s household.
Speak.”
Torstein placed his shield at the foot of the bench he had been sitting on and stepped forward.
“Earl, the boy speaks true.”
A sudden murmur of bitter anger rose again, but Torstein raised his hand to quieten them.
“It is true that his mother and her master’s household were indeed murdered.
It could not have been a raid, since nothing was stolen from the house.
The boy can testify to that.”
He fell silent for a few seconds.
“Agsken, too, speaks the truth.
He seemed to have been answering the screams, just like all of us.”
Thorson turned to the man whom he had been hoping would back up his accusation.
Torstein went on.
“My only concern with Agsken is that he says he had seen the raiders escaping.
None of us who had gathered there ever saw such a thing.
It is my thought, Lord, that he might have been lying.
However, as to the issue of him being the murderer, I cannot with a clear mind say that he is guilty.”
Another murmur roared up across the hall, and Haraldson banged the table again.
“So you are saying you cannot fully accuse Agsken of murdering the victims.”
“I am, Lord Earl,” Torstein said, avoiding looking at Thorson, who was glaring at him.
“And you are saying the only proof you have is that Agsken could have been lying?”
“Yes, Earl.”
Haraldson frowned.
“I am afraid that while the claim of raiders might or might not have been false, by itself it does not amount to indisputable proof of murder.
The punishment for murder is death.
We cannot rely on just the possibility of a lie to render judgment.
Boy, do you have any other witness?”
Thorson could hear his heart pounding in his head now.
“I do not, Lord,” Thorson said, “but this man,” he said, pointing at Agsken, “was never on good terms with the slain household.
They had always been in conflict over the boundary of their land.”
“Still not proof enough,” Haraldson said.
“Do you have anything that links this man directly to the murder of your mother and her master’s household?”
All the faces turned toward Thorson, and the boy went silent for a few seconds.
“I do not.”
“Ha!” Agsken laughed.
Haraldson stood.
“Then I find this man innocent of the crime he has been accused of.
I am sorry for the loss of your household, boy, but an accusation of such magnitude should never be brought forth without substantial proof.
Now, if there is nothing more, that will be all.”
“There actually is, Earl,” Agsken said, stepping forward briskly.
“You seem to forget the matter of my compensation.
The boy accused me of a crime whose punishment would have been my head.”
“Aye!
Aye!” several people agreed with him, and the man grew even more pompous.
“I demand compensation of equal value.”
Haraldson seemed like he would have gladly ripped the heads off both of them, but with great effort he eased the frustration on his face.
“This boy was born of a thrall woman, as you yourself said a short while ago.
He owns nothing.
What would you have him give you?”
Agsken smiled.
“Well, there is the matter of that land.
Since the owner is already dead, I do not see why I should not have it, Lord Earl.”
Haraldson glared at the Norseman.
“That land does not belong to the boy.
That land belongs to me to dispose of as I see fit.”
Agsken bowed in submission.
“Then the boy should be bound to me to labour until he has paid off the blood debt that he owes me.”
Thorson suddenly felt his blood run colder than it ever had before.
He could see the Earl was actually considering it.
“Ragnarök would be upon us before I ever submitted to you.
I call you to holmgang.”
A cry of shock went forth across the hall.
None of them had anticipated that a boy his age would even dare utter such a challenge to a man like Agsken.
Agsken might not have been the strongest among the Vikings, but he was still a seasoned shieldman.
Having fought and survived innumerable raids conducted by Haraldson himself, the boy would not stand any chance in a direct fight with him.
“Enough of this madness!
Enough!” Haraldson yelled.
“I am afraid not, Lord.
A challenge has been issued, and it is my right before gods and men to accept or deny.”
“He is just a boy, you moron!” Torstein screamed.
Agsken smiled ruefully.
“He should have remembered that before accusing me of murder and then challenging me to a battle to the death.
I accept, Lord.”
Haraldson stared at the man.
Corrupt as he was, even he had not thought someone could stoop that low.
“You would spill the blood of an unblooded boy?”
“He is big enough, Lord, and he has even bigger words.
Axe to axe.
Let the gods decide his fate.”
Haraldson stared between them in disgust before turning to the gathered men and women.
“A call to holmgang has been issued and accepted…
so be it then.”
The hall suddenly burst into a roar of both applause and objection.