Chapter Sixty-Eight

Orm to the rescue. At least that was how it felt. With Sigurd not exactly incarcerated but still unable to walk about freely, it fell to him to cheer up Ketil. The latter loathed his own enforced inaction and was itching for news of his daughter.

The only news which filtered through concerned the demise of King Harald.

Why couldn’t he have passed away sooner?

Miriam crossed herself. These days, she had plenty of sin for which to atone, but didn’t feel inclined to visit the priest. What could he possibly know of her life? Where had he been when her own father bartered her to a foreign mercenary, albeit one who was no stranger to Vercia.

How awkward would it have seemed if they had been unable to communicate from the outset?

She was experiencing something similar now. Yet in some ways it was enough to hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, as she lay beside him during the night.

The very real worries for Tyr and Beyla never went away. But here, with his arms around her, she felt a measu