Somerled gave a slow smile. “You forget,” he said, “and that surprises me, for Ulf regarded you as one of his closest friends. I would not accuse Engus personally of my brother’s death; indeed I cannot, since his actions are well accounted for during the period in question. But I have no doubt his people killed my brother. Would you have me make peace with a bunch of cut-throats and murderers? If they don’t like what is happening, they have only themselves to blame.”

“If you believe them responsible,” Hakon said doggedly, “why not hold a Thing, so the matter can be settled according to correct practice of law? That would be well accepted, I think, even among Engus’s folk. You’d come closer to proving what really happened if it was all brought out into the open.”

“Well said,” Eirik was heard to mutter. “Well said.”

“There’s no need for a Thing.” Somerled’s voice was calm and authoritative. “I am chieftain here, and I will determine how matters are settled. My brother’s killing was an outrage, the manner of it barbaric to the point of obscenity. Resolving it goes far beyond empty gestures of reparation. And be warned. You have a wife here, and she is not of our kind. That renders you immediately suspect. It’s time for you to make up your mind which side of the border you consider your own: which side of the scales bears your weight. These islanders are sharp little fighters and devious in their ways. They may not take kindly to your visits here, and to your continuing friendship with your old comrades. They are certain to distrust any man of Rogaland who allies himself with one of their own women. You’re in a very uncertain position, Wolfskin, and you’d best look to yourself and your own.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Hakon, who had turned pale. “Is this a threat?”

“Of course not,” said Somerled. “I value my warriors dearly, every one. I simply require a pledge of loyalty, that’s all. If I should call on you to fight, you must be prepared to do it, whatever the circumstances, whoever the enemy. It’s not so much to ask: no more than a Wolfskin’s usual promise to do battle for his patron. Will you swear this?”

There was a lengthy silence. Eyvind could see Eirik’s fingers tightening around his ale cup; the other Wolfskins looked down at their boots, or at the wall, or anywhere but at Hakon’s white face.

“Well?” challenged Somerled. “Not struck dumb as well as deaf, I hope?” He raised his voice, as if to ensure Hakon could hear him. “What have you to say?”