As the humidity of the summer increased, Jarl Snorri Thorfinnsson found himself inspecting the repaired longship. A supply of bog iron had been discovered in the north. This allowed them to repair the ship. However, instead of making a return voyage to Iceland, the crew wished to make a trip down south. In two months time, the ship returned with its crew and some new faces: sixteen members of the Powhatan tribe. These men and women had been captured during the trip down. While Snorri took little issue with it, Thorbjorn Thorfinnsson did. Once word that some of the settlers had taken thralls, the Bishop was apalled. Then, enraged. Thorbjorn resolved to do something about it.
Bishop Thorbjorn strode down to the docks the very next day, holy wrath lurking behind the eyes. The salt of the sea was blown towards him by the winds coming off the cape, the collar of his brown robe starting to crust over. He saw the captain of the ship speaking with some fishermen, likely telling them about the Powhatan tribes to the south. A great bear of a man, Thorbjorn roughly poked him in the back. The captain turned to look at his accuser, only to crane his neck back a couple of degrees to meet the religius leader's gaze.
"What is this that I hear of you taking thralls?"
"I.. I did bring back some thralls. I thought they could help work the lands here."
"You and your crew went raiding, huh? Do you want to upset the balance between us and the skrælings? Eh? You like the idea of a hundred war canoes emerging from the early morning fog and slaughtering and scalping us?"
"We didn't kill anybody, I swear! We traded some goods, some fish, some clothing, and in turn they gave us some plants to smoke and some slaves. No imbalance!" Thorbjorn's eyes narrowed.
"But thralls you did take. Thralls you did not free."
"There... there isn't a law against it here."
"When my father founded this settlement, we were all freemen or karls. No thralls. Perhaps thralldom is still accepted in Iceland or Norway, but this is Vinland. Do you see any other thralls?" The captain stammered, not sure what to say to him. The bishop continued to lecture him.
"I know I've seen you in my church. Tell me, captain. Do you remember which book succeeds Genisis?" The captain looks down, ashamed.
"Exodus," he mumbles softly. Bishop Thorbjorn crossed his arms.
"And I assume you remember what happens in the good book, hm?" Ashamed and frustrated, the captain aggresivly told the priest he was not the leader of the settlement.
"No, I am not the Jarl. But I am the moral leader of Botnborg." The captain and the bishop looked each other in the eye, the others watching. Thorbjorn waved him away.
"Free them by spring, and your soul will be cleansed. But no more bring of thralls, lest you be rejected from my flock." The captain slowly nodded, shame and anger burning inside him as the bishop left to return to his work transcribing the good book into native tongue.