When no one spoke, Gunnar turned toward the door and motioned for Magnus to follow. As they reached the door a voice spoke up.
“I am Olaf Guthfrithson, and I will hear you, Gunnar Haraldson of Islay.”
As they turned, Magnus realized that Olaf had been sitting not farthest from, but closest to the door. He stood and approached. A man of great stature, but not nearly as tall as Gunnar or himself. He wore furs strapped around his chest and his blond hair hung shaggy around his shoulders. He did not look like a king.
“I welcome you to my hall. You have travelled far, and I will offer you food and drink. Then you will tell me your tale of this King Constantine.”
Olaf walked on ahead with the presumption of a king that the two visitors would follow. Near the middle of the fire-pit, Olaf sat at a table and motioned for the brothers to sit opposite.
“Hilde! Bring food and ale!” His bellow was loud enough for the women at the far end of the hall to scurry to the pots and trenchers of food on display. Within short order, enough food and drink for their entire crew was placed before them. Magnus was hungry enough to simply stick his face into the mound of food and inhale, but he waited for the nod from Olaf to begin.
Gunnar heaped meat and bread onto his trencher and Magnus followed suit. He had to admit, though food in Gunnar’s hall was always good, there was something extra special here. Be it the flavour or tenderness of the meat or the softness of the bread, Olaf’s feast was superior.
When they’d filled their gullets to the brim, they sat back and waited. Olaf had merely picked at his food leaving Magnus to assume he’d already partaken.
“We are thankful for your hospitality, Olaf,” Gunnar said after he’d finished the third horn of ale.
“Islay must not be as plentiful as I’d heard,” he said with a grin. “I would swear you two haven’t eaten in a month.”
“You’re not far off. We visited the MacDomnail before our visit here. ’Tis been nigh on a month since we ate in my hall.”
“I can believe it. Please enjoy as much as you like. My table is your table.”
Olaf sat back and watched Gunnar. Magnus could see the calculation in the man’s eyes. He had many questions and had not yet decided if he would partner with them or not. Magnus was certain of it and Gunnar was too trusting. All of this could still result in them leaving empty handed. Magnus wasn’t sure which outcome would be best, but he was certain, he didn’t want to be on the opposite sides of Olaf. The man had a lot of resources at his feet—they would soon see how he used the power that came along with it.
“Tell me about your engagement with King Constantine,” he said to Gunnar.
“The man is obsessed with Athelstan. He is convinced based on an attack on my sister that he has mobilized plans to invade the North lands and claim all for himself.”
“And how is your sister involved?”
“My sister recently married a Scot. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
“I did. The great shield maiden of Islay. I admit, I was disappointed to hear it.”
“Is that so?” Gunnar asked. “I understand Constantine wants you to be part of his family.”
Magnus was lost. “Are you saying that you already know the Scots king wants an alliance? If that is the case, what are we doing here?” His patience was wearing thin. Was he the only person who was in the dark at the moment?
“I pieced everything together from a long and enlightening conversation with your friend Snorri Short-Beard.”
“I assure you, that man is not a friend,” Magnus said.
“I also understand you have property of his that you plan to return once you leave Dublin.”
Returning loot from a legitimate raid was unheard of. But he had agreed to just that for the sake of Gunnar’s peace.
“I will return Short-Beard’s loot. But I warn you that man is planning to invade. I merely delayed his ability for a while.”
“Short-Beard will not step one foot farther east than the boundaries I have already set for him on Islay. I have given your brother my word on that.”
“Now that business is resolved,” Gunnar said, “what are your thoughts on the Scots and English?”
“I see our alliance tipping the balance in favour wherever we align. Mind you it will be a more challenging existence to be surrounded by English, which is why I will lean toward Constantine. Do you feel he is honourable? If I put my trust in him, will I make life easier or harder for the people entrusted to me?”
Magnus couldn’t help but think about those outside of the gates.
“I sensed no dishonour,” Gunnar said. “MacDomnail trusts him wholeheartedly and my sister trusts him. That is enough for me.”
