“Our god is a mighty god,” Edmund declared, “the creator of the world, yet he also allows evil to exist to test us.” “Amen,” one of the priests murmured as Ivar’s interpreter translated the words. “He brought you,” the king spat, “pagans from the north! Jeremiah foretold this!” “Jeremiah?” Ivar asked, quite lost now. One of the monks had a book, the first I had seen in many years, and he unwrapped its leather cover, paged through the stiff leaves, and gave it to the king who reached into a pocket and took out a small ivory pointer that he used to indicate the words he wanted. “Quia malum ego,”
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