Ivar, Jorund is injured too. 
And Ulf also thinks this payment is far too great - he is ready to follow Bjorni to sea - after the Harper has been given due hospitality, of course.
“Ok . . . NOW we pack . . . Ulf right need song, food and mead first” Jorund walks over to Kim and offers him a drink from the keg he is still carrying.
Kim accepts the offer and quaffs a draught of mead that would not disgrace the thirstiest Berserker. "I thank you, friend. Bjarni, if you will accept my commentary, I should say that my Jarl meant that the wergild should never be paid, and your line blotted from the Earth. I know of no such heavy assessment in all the tales of repute, but Hrothgar is my Jarl, I have eaten at his table and taken his gold, and I will not speak ill of it.
“I should say that a man in such a case as you might do well to look to his gods, and make such sacrifice as he can afford. The doom does not constrain you as long as you remain upon your own lands - it only lets all men from doing aught to your good, and restrains them not from harming you wherever they may find you abroad.”
" Why certainly, you are welcome to break your fast with us, good sir. Would you prefer Tea or Ale or other? And would you tell us how do the others feel about Bjarni and this punishment (other members of the Thing?)?"
Erm… how heavy IS Ottar the Fat? Are we talking portly, round, or out and out Fat?
Does the Jarl have a deadline on when he wishes us to finish such a task? Come, come, have some bread and cheese too! You must be hungry and we are certainly not inhospitable to those who wish us no harm!" bustles about Osvald, while thinking to himself that perhaps the deal is fair. He has no knowledge of proper prices in these sorts of matters though- as in adventures the heroes would always return with fantastical riches and wealth. So how hard could it be?
And he doubts he could use his Haggle skill with this fellow or the Jarl.
During the meal, more thoughts to ask the skald strikes him: "Say… what do the other rules think of the punishment?
Are there any that support Bjarni, and would be willing to lend us a hand perhaps in a gift form?
Or do you know of any fantastical lands filled with riches?
What would you do if you were in Bjarni’s shoes, oh wise Skald? "
"As to Ottar, let us say that though he is respected for his years and his battle-wisdom, it is long since he wielded any longer weapon than an eating-knife - and his prowess with that is legendary.
"As to lands full of treasure, they who go a-Viking say one thing and another, and none may sift truth from falsehood save he who has sailed such paths himself.
"As to the other Jarls and lordlings, on one thing they will all be agreed - the Jarl is not always right, but he is always the Jarl, and they would fear to side one of lower rank against one of their peers, lest the habit prove catching.
“Were I in your shoes, I believe I should see no other choices than these: to accept the Jarl’s judgment, and either achieve the wergild he set or die in the attempting of it - for what fear be there for a man who dies on such a glorious errand, and by his heroism wins a place at the great feasting-table? - or else to forsake these lands for good and try if he might make his life anew among the curious creatures that live at the end of the world. But it be not my place to make your judgments for you, and you may think of some other way.”
“Me think me know you say . . . get on ship go or get on ship go, fight, come home . . . I no want hurt but me like home . . . home more good then hurt bad” Jorund looks around and trudges up to the building to pack what he can before the entertainment begins.
Jorund comes back and throws a large roll of stuff onto the ship and then begins making trips into the cold room carrying out the barrels of mead. He is carrying so many that the store room is quickly empty and the ship is floating much lower in the water. If your wondering about room for food there isn’t any that’s why he learned to fish 
Jorund looks around apparently quite happy “Nuff mead to go find Leaf. He good drunk . . . Time for music?”
Ulf is very grateful to Osvald for asking these questions. It is good to know more. 
Although Kim proves to have an amazing capacity for mead, when he has lowered enough to stun a small whale he begins to tell some very strange stories:
- of a land far away where the men’s heads are below their shoulders, and no-one has a shadow, and great beasts live that carry ivory spears in their mouths. Monstrous as these beasts are, no-one has ever seen a dead one lying around, for when they die, a great bird comes and carries them off.
- of a land still farther away, where everyone is invisible, and the gods drink blood, and gold runs in rivers free for the picking up.
- of a land that sank beneath the waves, where the meanest beggar in the street was a wizard whose like is not in the world today; and when the moon turns to blood, the land rises again for one night only.
But no-one, he says, knows where these lands are now.
Ulf listens carefully, enchanted by these amazing stories.
He asks Kim if he wants to travel and see these sights for himself.
Ask a bard a question, get a bardic answer. Not, of course, that Ivar is one to criticize ancient beliefs in fantastic things.
“We no hurt to get gold, that good place . . . Kim good drunk and good skald . . . Ulf right you come we drink” Jorund sat wide eyed during these stories his limited imagination doing backflips trying to conjure the images.
Vote for America. Atlantas has been done and I’m going to end up wrestling a gorilla if we go to Africa, but at least I can fish in any of these places
Kim laughs. “It’s a tempting thought for one who is growing fat and lazy at the Jarl’s table, but perhaps a year or two too late. Excuse me a moment.” Lurching and burping gently, Kim heads to the door, obviously too gently bred to piss in the corner of the hall. He pauses at the entrance and sniffs: “Wind’s changing,” before going out.
A little later Ulf notices another ship coming up the fjord in the last of the twilight, burning many lights.
You foreshadow with a sledgehammer, don’t you?
Could be trouble, boys- let’s brace ourselves. Bjarni, would you like to greet the visitors, just in case they aren’t hostile? I suggest the rest of us had better hide out and prepare.
Kim, would you join us in this fight, should there be one? Will you at least remain neutral? Or do you side with the Jarl?
Cast ESP on the leader of the men in the ship coming up the fjord.
Moi?
Kim appears to be absent at the moment.
The incoming ship is much more than 30 yards away, hence out of range for ESP. FWIW, a ship showing this many lights is probably not up to mischief.
As Bjarni watches and waits, feeling as though he has enjoyed entertaining the visiting skald a little more than was wise, the ship grounds on the beach. Someone leaps into the shallows, carrying a lit lamp above his head. He has no weapon drawn. Behind him, tired men beach their oars - they seem to have been working very hard.
“Are you Bjarni Thorstein?” demands the lamp-carrier. “I am the herald of Jarl Hrothgar, come to bring his judgment.”
Oh, as if I’m interested in hearing more judgments from that POS. 
The herald then declaims some lines about the proclamation of outlawry, and a wergild consisting of an egregious amount of gold, silver and jewels, plus a magic item of unsurpassed renown…
I know I called the Jarl a bureaucrat, but something is not right here. As stupid as the Jarl is, I don’t think he would send two notifications. Kim’s convenient disappearance at the same time as the appearance of the second ship is scummy as hell.
Vote Kim
Osvald pulls out a quill and ink, and some paper from his robe’s pockets, and begins furiously scribbling down notes on what would be needed and what’s requested.
Thoughts of what Kim has just said also run through his mind:
Those all sound like very very dangerous places for a simple wizard like Osvald. Though… a part of him wonders if he is destined to go to those places just like the adventures he has read about. But there’s no way I could survive those things! Simply not possible! It’s too risky! Osvald continues to record the weight of Ottar, and the jewels and the blathering of the herald, while wondering if he perhaps he and his fellow Vikings were meant for something greater than just this Jarl’s wishes.
“Erm. Excuse me! Herald! Do you know if the Jarl sent any other messengers?
Are you the only one to tell us these things?
And… I don’t suppose YOU know the weight of Ottar the Fat?
By the way, for uh… documentation- do you know who the weakest rulers around here are… and the wealthiest… and the ones least favored by the Jarl?
Just for… bookkeeping purposes?
And… does the Jarl expect you back? Would you like Tea? How many men do you have on board that nice ship that I should make tea for? Any warriors- they prefer Ale, I know that much… do you… have any warriors on board?” asks Osvald carefully trying to choose his words.