Uncle, wait!
In heathen times, nobody
ventured into this forest.
- Then why do we?
- We have to throw the offal somewhere.
Is anyone there?
Come.
Trolls.
The story I shall tell, -
lies in the shadow
of the great plague.
No witnesses survived.
No historian ever wrote it down.
So forgive me if not
everything I say is true.
For much is forgotten,
and some has been added.
There were two courts
in the kingdom.
The church ruled on spiritual matters.
The council ruled on things temporal.
But there was strife between church
and king - over power and land.
The abbot had ruled the monastery
with firm hand for many decades.
It was a venerable order,
with an infirmary -
where they tended
the sick and dying.
I wish to tell the story
of two brothers:
Vilhelm and Ansgar.
The youngest of the two brothers
was Vilhelm.
Vilhelm was the lost son.
He transferred his share of the estate
and travelled to Paris.
He hoped to write a book, a work -
that would impress
even the most learned.
Ansgar was heir to the farm, -
and the mines that had blessed
the family with prosperity.
The mines lay deep in the highlands,
encircled by desolate peaks -
in every direction.
Seven years later, the very year the
great plague descended upon Europe, -
Vilhelm received a letter from Norway.
Ansgar had been made
an outlaw for murder.
A witness had seen Ansgar
conjuring forth spirits and trolls.
People were terrified.
The high sheriff of the county
investigated the murders.
Then passed the case to the church.
After Ansgar had been made an outlaw,
the monastery took over the mines.
In the autumn of 1348, Vilhelm
returned to his native land.
Ansgar?
What are you doing here?
Come here. Run on home!
Is that Ansgar?
Vilhelm?
It really is you.
You have returned.
Who would have thought so,
after all these years?
What brings you here?
I am here for Ansgar's sake.
I will find him.
Fancy clothes.
Little girl's fingers.
- How dare you return after what you did?
- Who are you?
- You are a murderer!
- I am not!
- Ansgar had everything that you lack.
- What?
- You tried to kill him!
- It was an accident!
I know what it was.
- I want to help him.
- You do not have the courage.
Your brother hates you.
You can never undo it!
Never!
Dear brother.
I have received word
you are accused of witchcraft.
I have come home to help you.
I can understand if you do not
want me here, but I had to come.
I wish to be able to meet
your gaze once more.
I hope this might be
a way to make amends.
Ansgar!
Ansgar...
To the high sheriff and the council:
I am sad to inform you -
that Ansgar Ansgarson is dead.
He was found in a pitfall
by the farm this morning.
He carried a letter,
but it was unintelligible.
I ask that his name be cleared.
Vilhelm Ansgarson, the 13th of October.
We know you're there! Come out!
What do you want?
Take him to the monastery.
They thought you were Ansgar.
- He is excommunicated, an outlaw.
- He is dead.
Your brother is accused of witchcraft.
He will soon be found and executed.
Protecting him will only
make matters worse for you.
Where is he?
And who performed the burial?
No priest or monk?
I buried him with my own hands.
Release me,
and I will show you his grave.
If this proves to be true, the charges
against you will be withdrawn.
If it proves not to be true, -
your name shall bear the same
condemnation as your brother's.
Is he a rightful heir
to the farm and the mines?
No, he signed over his share
before he left for Paris.
Well, well.
No witnesses.
I want to trust you.
But it takes more than a heap of soil.
Ready.
Open it.
Expose the collarbone.
It did not set properly.
Ansgar had a lump there.
I wish to see it.
This is not Ansgar.
Wait. Wait!
Shoot him!
- Well?
- He escaped.
He will likely try to flee abroad.
He has aided an outlaw.
He will be considered an accomplice,
and he knows it.
Letter to the high sheriff!
From Vilhelm Ansgarson.
I must say.
Exceptionally well formulated.
- Is it an indictment?
- No, it is about Ansgar's case.
Rumour has it I should arrest you.
- What do you want?
- The council must hear Ansgar's case.
His case does not belong in the council.
It belongs to the church.
The king does not wish
to upset the clergy.
Then why have you come?
Your brother is excommunicated,
an outlaw.
You know what that means.
He is dead.
At least to the law.
Do you know what the mines are worth?
Your father's will
was approved by the council.
You do not have a case
if you have nobody to accuse.
You are wasting my time!
Then I accuse Ansgar!
I report him for murder.
October 1348.
I have reported my brother for murder
to have his case heard by the council.
My hope is that
he may have a fair trial.
The high sheriff will protect me
if I give him the honour, -
should I manage to resolve the case.
Ansgar has been reported
to the high sheriff.
- By whom?
- Vilhelm Ansgarson.
It is dinnertime. The bell is chiming.
We shall eat first.
The body I found by the farm
may have been a messenger.
He did not know about the pitfall.
- You lost, aye?
- Careful, Dunbar.
- Heading for Garsli?
- You a troll hunter?
I am looking for a man: Ansgar.
You ought to be careful, son. I heard
he sodomised the devil. Sodomy.
The devil.
- Norwegian! Sodomy!
- Rvkjrt.
Rvkjrt!
Ansgar. The devil. Aye?
Robbie Dunbar.
The proud and glorious Dunbar Clan.
Hurry up!
- You stink of cunt!
- The fucking fresh fish stinks!
Garsli, aye?
The Scot hauled fish and other goods
between the monastery and Garsli.
The monastery now runs the mines.
The foreman is a foreigner, -
a former soldier.
The Scot says he is leading
the hunt for Ansgar.
Incoming, you cuntbitten bastards!
- What have you got for me?
- Fish.
Fisk.
You can't even talk right.
Fisk.
- You need a place to stay?
- Yes.
Step inside.
I need candles and ink.
- Right. Two marks.
- One now, the rest when I leave.
You're a troll hunter.
You pay in advance.
If you're thirsty, go to the tavern.
Two marks.
Hey?
Could you fetch the owner?
Halgrim?
There's a bounty hunter here.
Right.
What can I offer you?
- What is the price on Ansgar's head?
- It won't help you unless you catch him.
Forget that mother Ansgar.
Forget the fucking trolls.
This you can trust.
Cheers.
It'll put hairs on your fanny.
We three, we know well, -
that Ansgar is mine.
And you know as well -
that you may be the next one lying
there with your guts ripped apart, -
and the shit from your ass
sprayed all over the place.
Halgrim?
Just a tiny drop.
You'll get nothing here until you pay up.
You owe money everywhere!
You promised us Ansgar!
The 17th of October 1348.
Superstition feeds on fear in this town.
At least among the ignorant.
Fear makes the tavern prosper.
People gather there to fan the flames,
and the Finn pours oil on the fire.
The blind lead the blind into darkness.
But what kind of darkness?
Hey?
- And you are?
- I am searching for the outlaw.
A bounty hunter with inky fingers.
You don't seem to know
the man you're searching for.
Anything I should know?
The old faith. Norne worship. Trolls.
Trolls?
Ansgar!
Ansgar, Ansgar, Ansgar!
Ansgar curses you.
- What do you know about the Finn?
- He's a bastard.
Men like him get no credit here.
They ruthlessly crush
any man they see.
Leave just bone fragments,
guts and crap.
- Shut up. You'll scare off the clients.
- Death adds to the bounty on the living.
Which means even more for me!
I saw you in the forest.
Was it witchcraft?
No bloodshed here!
Sami bastard! Walk through, lass.
Come here, me fair Johanne.
You dirty dogs should be
tied up outside!
Down here!
He was found at sunset.
Must have come over the mountains.
Look.
- Here. It smells of fish.
- It's the stench of trolls.
Does anyone know who he is?
Let's check the sacrificial site.
- Everyone seems frightened of Ansgar.
- They think he'll cast a spell on them.
- What do you think?
- I believe what I see.
This is where the first victim
was found.
The basin was full of blood.
From a monk.
It was a place of sacrifice
in heathen times.
At first we thought wild beasts
had come to ravage the valley.
We stopped throwing offal
outside the village.
Instead we threw our waste
in the old mining shaft -
no longer in use.
But it didn't take long.
People began to see
strange things in the forest.
Then they found the ancient
place of sacrifice.
And Ansgar?
He was seen here by a hunter -
who was found murdered
two days later.
By what you don't believe in.
Who are you really?
I am here on behalf of the high sheriff.
- He is using the high sheriff.
- If the council finds Ansgar guilty, -
the crown will seize
the farm and mines.
So I do not know who is using whom.
The devil's master plan is
to make us believe -
that he does not exist.
Advocatus diaboli.
One should warn
the high sheriff against himself.
Hey! Wait!
May I ask you a question?
Have you been here long?
What do you think about Ansgar?
Wait!
Do you know who his friends were?
You make ink.
In Paris they use resin instead of fat.
Fat makes the writing blurred.
- Resin makes it clearer.
- What do you want?
- Can many people here write?
- A few.
- Most of it goes to the monastery.
- Were you here when they took over?
- The girl with the ink.
- Huh?
- The inkmaker.
- Johanne?
Johanne.
You lay one hand on Johanne,
I will kill you.
Whiskey!
The high sheriff is here,
venerable brother.
Offer him a seat.
I will come.
Spring honey from apple blossoms,
balanced with summer flowers, -
autumn heather honey
and selected herbs from the monastery.
Scents of a whole year
in one small mouthful.
My father always warned me -
to leave the spirits and trolls alone.
- "Do not anger them," he said.
- That is just superstition.
- It is not what we teach.
- So you say.
But we all know the story of how
St. Olav vanquished the troll.
Well, that is allegorical poetry.
- Not to be confused with true theology.
- But...
The high sheriff should be more
concerned that such an unnatural case -
be brought before the council.
It is a spiritual matter.
Spiritual or not...
That does not diminish the fact
that Ansgar has, or had, -
a sizeable property that is
hardly spiritual in nature.
And King Magnus has had enough of
the clergy grabbing all the spoils.
The devil is among us.
And you quarrel over earthly riches?
- That is what the devil wants.
- What do you suggest?
Ex malis eligere minima.
"Choose the lesser of two evils."
- Which means?
- You get the mines.
And we get Ansgar.
What have you got?
Fox.
Beaver. Fox.
How's that?
Dunbar!
- Any news from the monastery?
- Only...
Do some whiskeying up.
Good. Take it inside.
Here! This way!
We need to post more guards.
- It'll be one of the children next.
- Shut up!
Does anyone recognise him?
He stinks of trolls.
They always stink like a fucking bog.
Bury him in consecrated ground.
Someone had better find Ansgar soon.
- It is him.
- The Finn?
- He's no brigand.
- He lives in the forest.
- Fears no trolls.
- It's a beast.
- It is a man!
- Fuck, no!
Fucking writer.
He knows Ansgar is accused
of witchcraft. He makes up tales -
to scare away you
and other bounty hunters.
He wants to increase
the bounty on Ansgar.
- So he kills more.
- How do you know it's him?
- Because I found this by the corpse.
- Let's get him!
Listen.
Sami witchcraft.
No, no, no!
The 22nd of October 1348.
The blood of the Finn is on my hands.
The poor man was a heathen,
so they left him there.
Though he practised witchcraft, it may
not be connected to the killings.
There is still no trace of Ansgar.
Welcome.
God's peace be with you.
I will hold you to account
if you fail to resolve this.
Many others would be pleased
to have your position, Bergtor.
Do not forget that.
What's with you, writer?
A worrier now, huh?
Could you fill this up for me?
Did you supply...
Ansgar as well?
Listen, I supply anyone who pays.
- We can catch him if we stick together.
- What is this?
Take her away.
Grab him!
We found a letter on her.
From Ansgar.
I see.
So she knows where Ansgar is?
- Where is he?
- In the barn.
He's in the barn.
She had a letter from Ansgar.
The ink is still fresh.
He cannot be far away.
Here! Get in!
Let go of me!
So you're his brother?
Don't play games with me.
I am a lawyer acting for the high sheriff.
I do not have to tell you anything.
I am investigating on his behalf.
You may leave now.
Let go of him.
The high sheriff?
So she will not speak?
We'll make her talk.
Where is he?
Just tell us where he is, and it'll end.
I hear you have been
quite busy here in Garsli.
Reporting Ansgar to the high sheriff.
Well, well.
You have caused us huge amounts
of trouble. Huge amounts.
So what did you hope to gain
from the council?
Where is he?
We both know what the killings are about.
Seizing Ansgar's land and the mines.
- Are you suggesting...
- No.
I'm telling you plainly!
Before you continue, let me add
that I have signed over the estate -
to our mutual friend,
the high sheriff.
Our sole desire is to drive the devil
back wherefrom he came!
- Why did you let him go?
- He is not driven by greed.
Two of mine.
- What do you think he'll do?
- He is the brightest man around here.
I think he will find Ansgar.
You need rest.
Keep it unsoiled.
I said rest!
- Stop!
- I must speak to the prisoner.
Not without permission.
- From whom?
- From me.
And my answer is no.
The high sheriff has no authority here.
Johanne surprises me. Her loyalty
is solid as bedrock.
Ansgar must mean much to her.
Dear lord.
He'll kill her.
She still refuses to speak.
Where is he?
Fetch Hildegunn.
- Go to her. She needs you.
- Has she spoken?
Go in.
- Johanne?
- Is she dead?
- Almost.
- We must get her out of here.
Help me.
Someone's coming!
- What are you going to do with her?
- She needs medical care.
Take her to the monastery.
The infirmary will see to her.
Very well.
She'll pull through.
She's breathing normally.
- We must take her to the council.
- The council?
The charges against Ansgar are weak.
We need her as a witness.
If she will talk, I have a case.
Comb the area!
Hildegunn! I have to leave! Now!
Find him!
Search everywhere!
Over here!
- He has taken Johanne.
- What else?
- He spoke to Hildegunn.
- Hildegunn?
Yeah, and now she's vanished too.
Has Johanne spoken to Hildegunn?
Find them.
- But the corpses?
- Trolls do not exist.
So your lack of faith
proves his innocence?
It has nothing to do with faith.
Whoever did it had a reason.
Ansgar is important to you.
Johanne!
It's a troll!
Hurry!
We must find Johanne!
Hildegunn...
Johanne?
She will not survive.
Trolls do not exist.
They were killed by a beast.
- How do you know?
- Look at this.
Bear tracks.
- Find him!
- Hide!
It's the Scot's wagon.
- Hey!
- Cuntbitten Mary!
What have you found?
We'll get him now.
Ansgar is my brother.
But I do not know if he regards me
as his brother.
I fell in love.
She was promised to him.
But I truly loved her.
One day I was overseeing
the emptying of some rocks in the mine.
I saw Ansgar coming,
but did not warn him.
The rocks came down.
He almost died.
I remember thinking...
"I hope you die."
Everyone thought it was an accident.
But Ansgar knew better.
I knew I could not stay.
I had to leave.
She realised it was because of her,
and devoted her life to the Lord.
We both found a way to flee.
It's easier to run away than...
To trust something that is uncertain.
Johanne is dead.
It is over.
All we have is a washed-out letter.
Ansgar did not use resin ink.
He used Johanne's ink, made with fat.
The fat is absorbed by the parchment.
Here it is.
"To the high sheriff: I hereby report
abbot Gardar Godfredson for" -
"the murder of a young woman
bearing his child."
"Gardar saw me. I fear for my life,
and have gone into hiding."
"I am afraid the abbot will do
all he can to ruin my credibility."
"But I swear it is true,
and I will testify."
"I am hiding in the old mine shaft.
Come quickly. Ansgar Ansgarson."
Seize him.
Search the cave.
Ansgar is innocent. He is not in there.
He fears for his life.
- Well, he should.
- Ansgar saw Gardar kill a young woman.
He tried to notify the high sheriff,
but the letter never arrived.
Ansgar is innocent.
Take him.
- We know where he is.
- Come on!
Pick up the corpse and get up.
Listen. We have to hurry.
Come on! Hey!
Come on.
He's dead.
Dunbar!
Find the body.
- Vilhelm's dead.
- Dead?
- What happened?
- He drowned.
Three of my men saw it.
Come on.
Come with me.
He's been hiding here all along.
Seize him!
Some fish. Let's go! If you wanna live,
you'll leave the village.
- Everyone thinks you're dead.
- I cannot leave.
You stay here, you soon will be.
The trolls come out at night.
We've caught Ansgar.
I'll fetch the executioner.
Ansgar Ansgarson
has been found guilty -
of consorting with the devil
and practicing witchcraft.
He has been found guilty of conjuring
forth beings of the underworld!
Together with Hildegunn Grimsdatter.
They have been sentenced
to trial by fire -
under the authority
of abbot Gardar Godfredson, -
and according to the Law of God
and of the Realm.
Bergtor! Wait!
My name is Vilhelm Ansgarson.
And as truly as this man is my brother,
he is innocent!
There are no trolls, Bergtor.
All the victims were already dead.
Can you prove your tall tales?
They did not smell of trolls,
but of rotten fish.
And who is behind this?
A man who has access to corpses.
They are wheeled from
the monastery in fish barrels.
Their faces smashed to make it
look like trolls. All victims -
of an attempt to usurp the mines
and conceal a murder!
What about Johanne?
She's dead.
- Torn apart by a troll!
- Or was it a beast?
Light the pyre!
Bergtor! Gardar has given
the mines to the high sheriff.
- You must restore order!
- He wants to be rid of Ansgar.
And you know why!
Get him!
Is it true?
Is the high sheriff taking over?
- We must settle this. Follow orders!
- Orders?
Is that all that is left?
Orders?
Then I refuse.
Seize the abbot.
Take him away!
Do not touch me.
Do not touch me!
Stop! That is an order!
We will take care of him.
The abbot and his accomplices were
tried and found guilty by the council.
And although the story ends here, -
I like to think about what is said.
That Vilhelm and Ansgar -
returned to live at the farm.
As friends.
As brothers.