Men, for the most part, filled the hall, their laughter loud, laced with drink. The priest did not approve, standing a little way off, clutching the bible in front of him, doing his best not to catch the mocking stares of the drunken crowd.
“You must allow them their merriment, Father,” said Olaf sidling up beside him, clamping the priest on the shoulder. “They are nothing but children, happy to be here, to celebrate their lord"s moment of happiness.”
“Is that what you call this?”
He turned down the corners of his mouth and Olaf smiled. “Father, the old ways die hard. Sigurd is a good Christian, but he is mindful that many here are not, so he allows them this brief period to celebrate in the time-honoured way. Do not think any less of him because of it.”
“And you, Olaf? Do you think an
