“I call plaintiffs with cases of insult wounds, disfigurements, maimings, to come forward.”
Ragnvald stepped forward into the ring of onlookers. He had tried to eat some bread and cheese for his midday meal, but it stuck in his throat, and now his stomach roiled, a stew of hunger and nerves.
“Are you calling this an insult wound?” asked Hrolf, before Ragnvald could even speak the words of accusation. “Or disfigurement?”
“Can I not let the jury decide?” Ragnvald asked.
Hrolf nodded. “You may.”
Solvi stood on the other side of the circle, behind an empty seat. He wore an amused expression, as though Ragnvald accusing him was a joke. Ragnvald could not see Svanhild.
Olaf sat a third of the way around the circle from Ragnvald. With him was Vigdis, her face pale. She looked as beautiful now, with haunted eyes, as she did when her lips curved with satisfaction. He wondered if she feared for her place if Ragnvald accused Olaf, or for her child Hallbjorn. Ragnvald had no intention of hurting his young stepbrother.
Hrolf handed him the speaking stick.
“I accuse Solvi of wounding me on the face. I sue him for payment of that and for the raiding treasure he has denied me.” Ragnvald’s voice rang out across the plain, just as he had imagined. He faced the jury, although he could not bring himself to look at their expressions, for they had appeared stern and unbending during the other cases. He looked instead at their stomachs as he began his tale, the well-fed bellies cinched tight by their best bronze belts. Ragnvald’s feet crunched in the dry grass as he paced and spoke, telling of the raiding, and how Solvi had come to wound him.
“Do you have any witnesses who will stand for you?” Hrolf asked.
“Yes,” said Ragnvald, holding Hrolf’s gaze. He would not let Egil escape this—calling his chosen witnesses was Ragnvald’s right, whether Egil’s father liked it or not. If Egil would lie, he must lie to everyone. He only wished Svanhild were there to remind him that any time she could tell the truth, even if she would not be accepted as a witness. It unbalanced him not to see her there. “I call Egil Hrolfsson to witness.”
Egil stepped forward, his eyes cast down, refusing to look at Ragnvald. “You took this journey as well,” said Ragnvald, walking close to Egil. “Afterward, you went to Ardal and told my family, told my sister—who will swear to it—that you saw Solvi kill me, and throw me in the water.”
“Do you wish to call your sister as a witness?” Hrolf asked.
Ragnvald glared at him. “No. I am questioning your son.” He should not have mentioned Svanhild. She could not be a sworn witness to this, not when a man—Olaf—had witnessed it as well. Unless Ragnvald accused Olaf too—then Hrolf should allow Svanhild’s testimony to balance their stepfather’s lies. But Ragnvald feared he did not have enough evidence to accuse Olaf.
“She is a woman,” said Hrolf. “She may not testify unless no one else was present to hear my son. Is that the case?”
“Let us hear what your son says first,” said one of the jurors. Ragnvald looked up, surprised, and saw Adisa’s father. Ragnvald had not told him of his suit before. He should have, he saw that now. He could have used that friendship better.
“Do I speak the truth, Egil?” Ragnvald asked. “Did you see what happened?”
Egil turned to face the jury. “I saw Ragnvald dance on the oars. I saw him win the first race. I knew that he fell. I did not see more.”
“And how did I get this wound on my face? You can see it is no more than a week old,” said Ragnvald.
Egil glanced first at his father, who shook his head slightly, then at Solvi. “I don’t remember,” he said. Ragnvald felt a small thrill of triumph. No one could believe that, not the way Egil spoke.
“Why did you tell my family that Solvi stabbed me?” Ragnvald asked.
“I—I don’t know what I said to them,” said Egil. “I don’t remember.”
“Svanhild does,” said Ragnvald. A part of him was enjoying this: Egil bending, Egil faltering. He had thought Egil his equal, but Ragnvald would not have lied in front of the gods.
Adisa’s father raised his hand. Ragnvald pointed to him. “Where was Solvi Hunthiofsson when Ragnvald was on the oars?” Adisa’s father asked. It was a juror’s right, to clarify anything he had questions about.
Egil glanced at Ragnvald and then at his father. “I don’t know.”
“Why were they dancing on the oars?” asked another juror.
“Solvi said he’d give a gold ring to whoever could run up and back on the oars,” said Egil.
“Who won? Who ran up and back?” the juror asked.
“The pilot’s son. And Ragnvald,” said Egil miserably. “Until he fell.”
“He fell? Did you see it?” the juror pressed.
Hrolf stepped forward. Egil was very close to being called a liar, and in front of a jury lying was a grave offense, for which Egil might stand trial later. “He said he didn’t see it,” said Hrolf.
Adisa’s father spoke again. “Ragnvald Eysteinsson, do you believe that Egil saw you fall?”
Ragnvald glanced at Egil. He still did not wish to call Egil a coward in front of the men of Sogn, and that was how this story would sound. “Solvi pulled his dagger. Egil saw—something. I think he moved to help, but too many men stood in his way.”
“Is this true?” asked the juror. “Did you see the dagger?”
Egil nodded, then spoke tremulously. “I saw Solvi’s dagger.”
“Did you see him stab Ragnvald?” Hrolf asked.
Egil shook his head no.
Hrolf turned to Ragnvald. “Has my son lied today? Do you accuse him of that?”
“No,” said Ragnvald. If he accused Egil, Hrolf would be against him, and if he could not prove that accusation, he would owe Egil payment for the insult. Slowly, measuring out the power he held, he said, “I do not accuse him.”
Another juror spoke. “Egil Hrolfsson, is it possible Ragnvald could have received this wound after falling out of the boat?”
Egil nodded.
“You must speak an answer,” said Hrolf.
“It is possible,” said Egil.
“Does anyone wish to question Egil further?” Hrolf asked. The jury stayed quiet. Ragnvald looked around the circle, trying to find faces that looked sympathetic to him, avoiding the faces of anyone he knew.
“No,” Ragnvald said, finally.
“Do you wish to call any other witnesses?” Hrolf asked.
Ragnvald looked around the circle slowly. He still did not see Svanhild anywhere, and he began to grow worried. She would not have missed this moment. She should have been clamoring to speak.
“Do you have any other witnesses?” Hrolf asked.
“I see a few other men from my voyage standing with Solvi Hunthiofsson,” Ragnvald said. “Would any of them speak for me?”