Then Ulf called a Thing, a council to which all his people were summoned. It was the first such assembly in their new home, and Ulf had invited King Engus to attend as his guest, with four men of his household and Brother Tadhg. Ulf required the putting aside of all arms before folk entered the hall. Eyvind oversaw this process, laying the knives and spears of the islanders beside the handsome swords and axes, the hammers and bows of his own people in the anteroom. Some were not so keen to give up their weapons; that was why Eyvind had been given this job. It didn’t pay to argue with a Wolfskin.

For the benefit of his guests Ulf explained the formal process. First, a law speaker would recite a portion of the body of legal wisdom, which it was his job to retain in his memory. The usual rule was that one-third was presented at each Thing. This was to keep the laws clear in men’s minds. Then the cases would begin, perhaps only one if there were a major dispute over, say, a hall-burning or an ambush with multiple casualties. Respected men would be appointed judges for the case. Evidence would be heard and arguments presented for either party. Then, after deliberation, culpability would be apportioned and penalties determined. It was not uncommon for compensation to be paid up then and there, and the matter neatly concluded. Usually, Ulf explained, the system worked very well, since the parties agreed in advance to accept the decision of the judges as to guilt or innocence, and to abide by whatever punishment was chosen. Sometimes there was wrongdoing on both sides, and each must pay. King Engus nodded, and asked what penalties might be applied beyond the payment of restitution. Banishment, Ulf said, for a year, or three years, or forever. A man who chose to ignore that did so at his peril; he could expect a short life and a surprising death.

“Do you ever impose a punishment of execution?” Engus asked. “What of a man who harms a child, say, or defaces a place of ritual?”

Ulf shook his head. “We are not barbarians,” he said. “Such a wrong-doer would be exiled beyond the borders of Rogaland, never to return.”

“That’s if he ever got as far as a trial,” put in Eirik, and Ulf frowned at him. But Tadhg translated this comment faithfully, and King Engus gave a nod.

“So, justice might be done outside the walls of this assembly,” he commented. “Here in the Light Isles, there is no need for such measures. For crimes such as those, the ancestors mete out their own punishment. A man who acted thus would certainly perish soon after, weighed down by guilt and crazed with fear.”

“Indeed,” said Ulf. “And how do you deal with lesser crimes? A family feud, perhaps, where violent deaths occur? A man who steals his neighbor’s wife, or beats his own?”