Chapter Twenty-Six

Ketil became concerned that the trail had gone cold until he spotted the sign. The twig was only small, covered in thorns, and from a gooseberry bush but he found it significant. In truth, he and Sigurd had not tracked anyone for a while and certainly not with as vested an interest as this.

“We will get them back, Sig,” he said, with more confidence than he felt.

“And what if Asti finds her own trouble along the way?”

“All the more reason to hurry.”

The ground was soft in places, swamp-like, and he guessed they must be close to a main tributary of the river, perhaps one which led to the sea. Having spent a lot of time on land recently, he was having to re-acquire old skills while appeasing his morose companion. Being in charge wasn’t always easy, but he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially where she was concerned.

A soft breeze caressed his scarred cheek, reminding him of Miriam as did the soft scents from honeysuckle and lovage. She’d picked some of the latter when Queen El