The trough of the wave

The first Juviking they can tell us about came from the south, from Sparbu or Stod or wherever it was. His name was Per.
He had been married, it was said, and had had house and land, and he brought his mother with him. What had driven him out the Lord only knew. He leased a croft under Liness.
One day the Liness man came and claimed more work of him than he was bound to do by agreement. Per just looked at him. Come he did not. That evening his old mother hobbled up to the farm, wanted to see the mistress herself. “Do ye know what they be saying among the neighbours?” she asked. “They say my rascal’s to wed your darling—God forgive me, they do say so.”