'What have I done to anger thee, my Helgi?' asked Hacon wonderingly; but Helgi would have none of him. 'I know of nought that can have vexed thee,' repeated Hacon; and Helgi answered: 'Why do I bid thee begone? Because to-day thy kingdom was taken from thee and given to another man.' 'Who did this deed, and where?' said Hacon. 'It was done at the Thing,' returned Helgi, 'and those who did it were thy kinsmen, Ingi and Hacon.' 'Ingi and Hacon,' repeated the boy and was silent for a moment. Then his face brightened and he added, 'Well, be not wroth with _me_, Helgi. None can tell if the deed will stand, for no spokesmen were there to plead my cause.' 'And who are your spokesmen?' inquired Helgi. 'God and Saint Olaf,' answered Hacon, 'and to them I leave it.' 'Good luck be with thee, king's son,' said Helgi, taking him up and kissing him. So Hacon the child lived on in the house of the earl his kinsman, who loved him greatly, and spurned in anger the evil counsel of one Hidi, who offered secretly to do him to death. 'God forbid,' cried the earl, 'that I should in this manner buy the kingdom for my son,' and he bade Hidi begone from his presence and keep his treachery to himself. And the better to preserve the boy from harm he had him always in his company, even when he fell sick of the illness that was to end in his death. Hacon, who by now was ten years old, mourned him sorely; but in the spring Ingi the king came south to Bergen, and carried the boy northwards to Drontheim, where he sent him to school with his son Guttorm, two years younger than himself. The boys were good friends, and treated alike in all things. Guttorm, being most easily moved to wrath, and often finding himself in trouble, came to Hacon to make him a way-out, which Hacon did, many times with a jest or a laugh, for he was gentle and slow to anger, and all men loved him.