Life is like a long, weary, Norwegian winter’s night; intolerable but for flashes of light brought by occasional flares of love – reflected in Estrid’s eyes or on seeing little Sweyn and his playmate Harthacnut tottering in infant embraces. These were the moments that brightened the deepening gloom enfolding me. Why should grim thoughts engulf a man who has everything? It is tempting to exert power over men and to shine but this has its perils. I strived for pre-eminence only for the sake of good, and refused to be obsessed and numbed by dominance for its own ends. Would that it were so for those others who influence our existence.
My predicament was unenviable but to some extent, I had myself to blame. King Olaf of Norway was my friend and I had served him faithfully but can a man obey t
