it. They poured cups of wine from a small cask Hastein had brought ashore and tapped, and after Cullain brought them a pottery bowl filled with the ram's liver, which he had sliced into thin strips, they skewered pieces on sticks and roasted them over the flames of their fire, as the members of the two crews watched hungrily.
In anticipation of the coming meal, Torvald, Tore, and I had waded back out to the Gull 's gangplank and had fetched our bowls and cups from our sea chests aboard ship. Torvald's stomach was growling by now with hunger, and when he saw Cullain deliver the bowl of sheep's liver to Hastein and Stig, he let out a loud sigh, then walked over to the bearskin and sat down.
"I will join you. Thank you," he said. Hastein looked at him with his eyebrows raised, but said nothing. Their years together and their friendship allowed Torvald certain liberties with the jarl that no other man would dare assert.
Torvald held the small cask upright while he pulled the stopper from the bung hole, then he tilted it and poured himself a cup of wine. He took a long draught, sighed with pleasure, and refilled his cup. "Ale is good, very good, and well-brewed mead has a strength to it that no other drink can match. But wine…ah, wine!"
"I suppose you will want some of the liver, too?" Hastein said.
Torvald nodded his head and smiled. "Why, yes. I thank you." Turning to me, he said, "Halfdan, I need a skewer. Will you find me a slender branch from the firewood pile?"
Stig rolled his eyes. Hastein shook his head, grinning, then to my surprise, said, "Bring two skewers, Halfdan, and join us."
"Fill your cup," Hastein said, after I'd sat myself down on the bearskin. Torvald held out his hand, took my cup, and filled it for me. As I took it back, Hastein began.
"I have been wanting to speak with you about this. I think that what you did— freeing the slaves—was very unwise. I cannot understand why you did it. Admittedly you can be rash at times, but normally I do not consider you a fool."
I had not thought that Hastein would approve. In his eyes, no doubt it seemed I was giving up valuable property for no reason. But to call me a fool, as he seemed to be doing, was harsh. I had not expected such bluntness, and was taken aback by it.
"Are you saying that you think me a fool?" I asked him.
"Until now, I have not," he replied. "I am hoping you can persuade me that in this instance, you were not."
I was silent for a long time, searching my mind for what to say, while Hastein stared at me expectantly. Finally, because I could think of nothing better to say, I told him simply, "I do not expect you to understand."
"That is your answer? It is certain I will not, if you do not even attempt to explain."
How do you make a man who has known only privilege his entire life understand how it feels to be the property of another?
"What would be the most bitter thing that could befall you?" I asked him.
Hastein thought briefly, then answered, "To lose my honor. A man without honor is not a man at all."
Stig nodded in agreement. "Aye," he said. "I would rather lose my life than my honor."
"Does a sheep on the farm have any honor?" I asked. "Does a pig?"
"That is a foolish question," Hastein snapped. "They are not men. They are beasts."
"And what, then, is a slave? Surely not a man, with honor. For he is just property, is he not? Nothing more than another beast on the farm."
Torvald nodded his head in agreement, and poured himself another cup of wine. Hastein began stroking his beard with one hand, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at me. "What you say is true, and yet it also is not," he said.
Stig frowned. "How so?"
"A thrall may be property, but he is more than a beast. Halfdan was a slave. Yet he clearly is a man who possesses a strong sense of honor. Was his honor suddenly born in him after he was set free, or was it there all along?" Hastein replied.
"Perhaps Halfdan is different, and that is why the Norns chose to
In anticipation of the coming meal, Torvald, Tore, and I had waded back out to the Gull 's gangplank and had fetched our bowls and cups from our sea chests aboard ship. Torvald's stomach was growling by now with hunger, and when he saw Cullain deliver the bowl of sheep's liver to Hastein and Stig, he let out a loud sigh, then walked over to the bearskin and sat down.
"I will join you. Thank you," he said. Hastein looked at him with his eyebrows raised, but said nothing. Their years together and their friendship allowed Torvald certain liberties with the jarl that no other man would dare assert.
Torvald held the small cask upright while he pulled the stopper from the bung hole, then he tilted it and poured himself a cup of wine. He took a long draught, sighed with pleasure, and refilled his cup. "Ale is good, very good, and well-brewed mead has a strength to it that no other drink can match. But wine…ah, wine!"
"I suppose you will want some of the liver, too?" Hastein said.
Torvald nodded his head and smiled. "Why, yes. I thank you." Turning to me, he said, "Halfdan, I need a skewer. Will you find me a slender branch from the firewood pile?"
Stig rolled his eyes. Hastein shook his head, grinning, then to my surprise, said, "Bring two skewers, Halfdan, and join us."
"Fill your cup," Hastein said, after I'd sat myself down on the bearskin. Torvald held out his hand, took my cup, and filled it for me. As I took it back, Hastein began.
"I have been wanting to speak with you about this. I think that what you did— freeing the slaves—was very unwise. I cannot understand why you did it. Admittedly you can be rash at times, but normally I do not consider you a fool."
I had not thought that Hastein would approve. In his eyes, no doubt it seemed I was giving up valuable property for no reason. But to call me a fool, as he seemed to be doing, was harsh. I had not expected such bluntness, and was taken aback by it.
"Are you saying that you think me a fool?" I asked him.
"Until now, I have not," he replied. "I am hoping you can persuade me that in this instance, you were not."
I was silent for a long time, searching my mind for what to say, while Hastein stared at me expectantly. Finally, because I could think of nothing better to say, I told him simply, "I do not expect you to understand."
"That is your answer? It is certain I will not, if you do not even attempt to explain."
How do you make a man who has known only privilege his entire life understand how it feels to be the property of another?
"What would be the most bitter thing that could befall you?" I asked him.
Hastein thought briefly, then answered, "To lose my honor. A man without honor is not a man at all."
Stig nodded in agreement. "Aye," he said. "I would rather lose my life than my honor."
"Does a sheep on the farm have any honor?" I asked. "Does a pig?"
"That is a foolish question," Hastein snapped. "They are not men. They are beasts."
"And what, then, is a slave? Surely not a man, with honor. For he is just property, is he not? Nothing more than another beast on the farm."
Torvald nodded his head in agreement, and poured himself another cup of wine. Hastein began stroking his beard with one hand, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at me. "What you say is true, and yet it also is not," he said.
Stig frowned. "How so?"
"A thrall may be property, but he is more than a beast. Halfdan was a slave. Yet he clearly is a man who possesses a strong sense of honor. Was his honor suddenly born in him after he was set free, or was it there all along?" Hastein replied.
"Perhaps Halfdan is different, and that is why the Norns chose to
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