The hall resonated with the sound of laughter, like great roaring waves, from the assembled mouths, accompanied by the clash of goblets coming together in drunken revelry. Fists pounded on table tops, chins dribbled with grease, men stood on chairs and showed their backsides, farted and belched. Some fought with fists and feet, kicking and punching their way over the floor whilst onlookers urged them on with chanting.
As Olaf entered they bent their knees and lowered their heads and roared as one, "Hail, King of Westfold!", and then their swords and spears and axes had been collected and taken outside. As the drink flowed, and tongues grew loose, violence was always a probability. Olaf remembered his great uncle"s wedding feast, how some had kept daggers. He remembered the killing. Since
