The chapman answered and said, “There is naught newer, Lord, than that which befell last summer’s end, when Styrbiorn the Strong was fled away out of Sweden because of King Eric, and the King let crown his young son Olaf joint King with him in Styrbiorn’s stead. And he is called Olaf the Lap-King, because he was crowned a-sitting in his mother’s lap, being but two winters old as is said. And this is in every man’s mouth there, and is thought great tidings in the realm of Sweden.”
King Harald’s face was lighted with a smile full of evil will. “These be tidings indeed,” said he. “Take heed and rule thy speech, though for yonder in the high seat sitteth Styrbiorn the Strong, and I thought thou hadst known him, having thyself ere now fared a-cheaping in the Swede-realm.”
The chapman’s knees were loosened when he understood that this was Styrbiorn. And now were all men’s eyes turned on Styrbiorn to see how he would take these news. Now so it was that at the first naming of his name by the chapman Styrbiorn waxed red to the ears and the roots of his hair. But when he heard of the crowning of Olaf the Lap-King he turned white with anger. He was leaned forth over the table on his elbows, with nostrils wide and in his eyes a light like as is in a lynx’s eyes about to spring. He had in his right hand in that instant an ale-horn, and so mightily his hand shut on the horn that the horn cracked and burst under his handgrip and the ale was wasted on the board. The chapman was afeared beholding him, and all men beheld him with some dread, for he seemed like to a man with the berserk-gang upon him, and well they deemed that that should be the bane of many a man there if Styrbiorn should break forth in that kind amongst them. So for a full minute’s space not a man stirred nor spake in that hall, gazing all on Styrbiorn. Then, seeming to master himself, he spake and said, “When was this crowning?”
“Lord,” answered the chapman, shaking and trembling, “they told me that was the third day after your going out from Upsala.”
Styrbiorn smote down with a crash on the table the crushed ale-horn and threw back his head with a great laugh. Men thought there was naught good in the sound of that laughter. Then he drew from his arm a ring of gold, heavy and broad, and tossed it to Worm saying, “There’s thanks for thy news of the Lap-King.” Then he rose up and took by the hand Thyri, that was somewhat pale and shaken with these things. “Come, sweetheart,” said he, “let’s to bed. I must sail at daybreak for Jomsburg.”
Styrbiorn busked him for the east next day at sunrise with nine ships. Ere he set forth he talked nigh an hour secretly with Biorn in Biorn’s shut bed afore that men were astir. Biorn fared with him and Bessi Thorlakson. The rest of the host he set under the command of Bui the Thick, and bade them await his coming thither again to Alaburg, and that should be on the thirtieth day. King Harald noted these things. He was eager to know what Styrbiorn meant to do, but Styrbiorn would tell him nothing, only bidding him wait for him in Alaburg. “And what of Thyri?” said the King. “That thou shouldst sicken of her after a seven-nights’ turtle-doving is a strange unheard of thing.”
“Thyri saileth east with me,” he answered.
“East to Jomsburg?” said the King. “Thou can’st not bring thy wife into Jomsburg. There hath never been any woman brought thither.”
“That concerneth not thee,” said Styrbiorn.
The King was very ill content.
They went aboard now and sailed down the firth. But in Alaburg Harald the King abode ill at ease. Much he questioned Bui and Sigurd and the other lords of the Jomsburgers that were there, but found them but a dry well to draw from. And much he chafed to have sailed away out of the Limfirth with his following nor await Styrbiorn’s return, or by what way soever to be rid of the Jomsburgers. But this seemed naught hopeful, but full of risk. So there he abode, chafing and discontented, and day by day the Dane-folk flocked to him in Alaburg according to the host-bidding he had made at Styrbiorn’s behest up and down the land.
Styrbiorn came to Jomsburg about noontide the third day. When Palnatoki beheld Thyri there he took Styrbiorn apart and said, “What is this? She must go back. Thou knowest our law, that there shall be no woman brought into Jomsburg.”
“There shall be now,” said Styrbiorn. His eyes were fierce, and his speech stumbled more than of wont. “All things else that are mine I stake on this throw, to fare north now into Sweden and take it by force. But not her. Her I leave with you in Jomsburg to keep her safe for me. She is the Queen. She is the apple of mine eye, Palnatoki.”
Palnatoki stood staring at him an instant with his eagle eyes; then, “This is a new turn,” he said. “To Sweden?”
“I have heard tidings,” said Styrbiorn. “Slow was I to raise war against King Eric. Until now he hath done me good. Thou knowest I abode quiet when the fates of ill luck sundered me and him, albeit he withheld from me my father’s inheritance. I had rather let all go than bear war against him. But now hath he wrought me this shame and evil, to let crown a brat in my stead. And that is as much as to say I shall be cast out of my kingdom forever. And that pat too, without thought or delay, while I near burst myself holding myself in. And now there is no help. It must be tried out now whether he or
