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 King Olaf and Father Meilge rose from breakfast next morning, a messenger told the king that a thrall craved to speak to him.

“Bring him hither,” said Olaf, and sat down to receive his visitor. In a short while the messenger returned, bringing with him a meanly dressed thrall. In spite of his shabby dress and unkempt appearance, the thrall bore himself with a confident air. Under his arm he carried a large bundle wrapped in the folds of a tunic. King Olaf looked keenly at the man. “What is thy name and what is thy errand?” The king’s tone was stern, for he liked not the man’s treacherous face.

“I am called Kark, the thrall of Jarl Haakon.”

Olaf started. “Where is the jarl now? Dost thou know I have promised full gold to whosoever shall find him?”

The thrall smiled meaningly. Olaf looked at him keenly. “Thou art his thrall, and thou shouldst be near him at this hour.”

Thore Klakka came up, and at the sight of Kark he started back. Earl Haakon must surely be close