Then everything happened as Karle and Birger Brosa had predicted. Karl Sverkersson raised his infant son high over his head so that all could see him and asked the ting to greet the new jarl, Sverker of Western Götaland. A great roar came from the direction of the Sverker clan; from the men who had flocked around the king's half brothers Kol and Boleslav came a great shout of "yes." Then all eyes were turned tensely to the part of the ting site gleaming with blue, where Joar Jedvardsson, Magnus Folkesson, and Birger Brosa stood in front.

   Birger Brosa whispered with a smile that they should wait a few moments, which they all did, standing quite still just like their men behind them. The murmur around the ting site died down, and then it was so quiet that only the wind was heard. But all at once the three men in front stretched their hands to the sky as one man, and then a forest of hands shot up behind them, and soon jubilant cries of relief and joy thundered across the whole ting site. Bishop Bengt could now bless the new jarl, who shrieked in his tiny voice so that it seemed more like a baptism than the blessing of the foremost man in Western Götaland.

   Next in the deliberations were such cases that concerned only

a few individuals, such as cases of killings and injuries. Then several church thieves were to be hanged to cheer up the many who had traveled so far to the ting, now that the major issue had been decided. It took until late afternoon before they came to the showdown between Magnus Folkesson and the king-killer Emund Ulvbane, and a cold wind of suspense seemed to pass over the ting as men dressed in the colors of the Sverker clan came streaming in from every direction.

   At first everything went just as the Folkungs had predicted. Two dozen good men from each side were called to swear the oath, and all swore by the grace of the gods that the land which had been disputed since ancient times belonged to the man for whom they now swore their oath.

   Everything that followed also went as planned, for now Magnus Folkesson brought out his silver and declared that with these coins he was prepared to enter into a reconciliation. He bade his opponent approve this action, for the price was good and peace between neighbors was worth more than silver. Emund Ulvbane bullheadedly refused to agree, but Judge Karle and his lay assessors approved the compromise at once, without even having to step aside and confer. And with that, men muttering in disappointment began to disperse in all directions, for now all could see that this matter was decided and would not lead to anything further.

   But then Emund Ulvbane stepped forward and contemptuously put his foot on the silver he had just been awarded in compensation and raised his right hand as a sign that he had something to say. Everyone fell silent and waited in tense anticipation, for Emund Ulvbane looked both angry and scornful.

   "Since the ting has decided, I must like any other man acquiesce," he began in a thundering voice, for he was a very powerful man. "But it aggrieves me that silver should take precedence over honor and right. It also aggrieves me to have to compromise with a man without honor such as Magnus Folkesson. For you, Magnus, bear no semblance to a man, nor are you a man in your heart, and I deem your sons to be equally foul, for they are both bitch puppies, the one a nun and the other an ale cask."

   With that Emund Ulvbane motioned to one of his retainers to come and fetch the silver while he remained standing there with his hands on his hips. With disdainful glances he sought his enemies' eyes. But the only person on the other side to meet his gaze was one of those he had called a bitch puppy, a young man with a sheeplike, innocent face who looked at him without the wit to feel fear. Instead his expression seemed to display astonishment and pity.

   Then a great tumult and loud shouting erupted at the ting and much uneasiness. Many men hurried away, because the peace that had seemed so secure was now in grave peril.

   In the Folkung tent the men soon gathered to deliberate, and the mood was sorrowful. Both Joar Jedvardsson and Birger Brosa, who had some knowledge of the law, said they had a bad feeling about what the law now prescribed about someone who had so openly used words of abuse at the ting, and what sort of response was allowed in such a case. They could not defend themselves with silver this time.

   They would have to wait until Judge Karle came and recited the law, and it was a dismal wait during which not much was said. Eskil saw to it that a cask of ale was brought in and tankards for one and all, but they drank in silence, as if at the beginning of a funeral ale.

   When Judge Karle entered the tent it was immediately apparent from his face that he was weighed down by sorrow and worry. He greeted the men briefly and then got straight to the point.

   "Kinsmen, you want to know what the law says about the words of abuse that have now been spoken. I shall tell you the law, and then you will have to decide for yourselves the wisest course of action, for in this I have nothing to say. But regarding these insults we heard Emund utter, the law is so clear that I don't believe Emund himself could have spoken such sharp rebukes without having many consultations and much advice. For hear now the law, I shall recite it to you at once."

   When he noticed that ale was being served, he paused and took a tankard, drinking several deep drafts as he looked as though he were reviewing the law in his mind. Then he set down the tankard, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and in a high, singing voice he recited the text of the law:

   If any man utters words of abuse to another: "You bear no semblance to a man nor are you a man in your heart." "I am a man like you." They shall meet where three roads converge. If the one who said the words comes, and the one who received them does not, then he must remain as he was called; he may not act as an oath-swearer, nor is he competent to witness, either in the case of a man or a woman. On the other hand, should the one who received the words come, while the one who said the words does not, then the one insulted must shout three times "outlaw" and make a mark for him on the ground. Then he would be worse than the one who now spoke it, since he did not dare step forth. Now they both meet, fully armed. If the one falls who received the words, to him is charged half the price of a man. If the one falls who gave the words and word felony is worst, the tongue is the bane of the head, then he shall be deemed an outlaw.

It was quiet for a long while in the tent as all pondered the law. Judge Karle sat down and again reached for his ale, and soon everyone's gaze was directed toward Birger Brosa, who sat with his head bowed in sadness. He noticed this and understood that now he would have to be the one to speak the evil that most of the men in the tent might already be thinking, for his brother Magnus was white in the face, as if paralyzed.