Chapter Fifty-One

Astrid excelled at mock fighting. She even had her own sword, Shatter, and had made friends with young women who were of an age to remember her from before but, strangely, didn’t. Had she been so different as a fourteen year old?

Rolf seemed to think so. Unwisely, she had lain with him, simply because she had drunk too much ale and he had been pursuing her for ages. Now, it seemed, he wanted more and had even proposed an encounter with that middle-aged slave of his, the kind she knew too much about and didn’t want to repeat again.

Ketil would probably be furious if he knew, which was why she hadn’t told him. She was only grateful he was looking after her welfare to such an extent that he wanted her out of the way when King Harald came to his demesne. It was a shame she would miss the wedding, but it would be good to see Eirik again, this time in the community close to the mountains she had heard so much about.

Magnus was coming, too. It would be an opportunity to confide in him. No-