‘Well, well,’ he said slowly. ‘This, I did not expect.’ He gave a long yawn. ‘It is late so I’ll be brief. I took you for a holy man. I welcomed you as a guest. You eat my food, drink my ale. And after this kindness, you open your mouth and what comes out? Some drivel that dishonours our gods, slanders our ancestors, makes mock of my hospitality. And you say I must bend the knee to some lowborn nobody who you claim has conquered death. If I do, say you, it is to my gain. But if I don’t, it will go ill for me when I die.’ Here his thin lips became an angry white seam. ‘Very ill.’ He paused, looking out over his retinue. ‘I can’t say it makes any sense to me. But it seems a curious way to poison men’s minds.’

Osvald scratched at his cheek. Then, finding a louse, he rolled his fingers and flicked it away. ‘What lord could let such poison leach across his lands? On the other hand, any fool can see your sincerity. Tell me. More than anything, you long to join this lord of yours somewhere –’ he wafted his hand airily at the rafters – ‘up there?’

‘My hope depends upon it,’ the holy man replied.

‘Very good. Then what I propose will be to our mutual gain.’ He turned to the pair of guards standing behind his seat. ‘Seize him.’

The guards moved quickly, but their speed made little difference; Vassili showed no desire to resist them. Instead he submitted meekly as they drove him to his knees, twisting his arms behind him.

Erlan had watched all this unfold, curious but now wary of this Vassili, of this little man who saw so much.

‘Now then.’ Osvald fell back in his seat. ‘Aurvandil!’ Erlan’s head shot up. ‘Aurvandil?’ Erlan stood. ‘You have your sword with you.’ Erlan wished he did not. ‘Come here. Tonight we will add to your long list of great deeds.’

‘My lord. This is hasty—’

‘Do you defy me, Aurvandil?’ Osvald’s fist slammed on the table, sending a horn bouncing to the floor. ‘I didn’t accept your oath nor feed you for an entire winter for you to question me. Now come up here and send this bald shit-spewing stoat to Hel!’

The men around Erlan eyed him. Many, he knew, would be only too happy to stick a blade in him to mollify their lord. Jealousy followed him everywhere – though, gods knew, there was little enough to envy him.

With a glance at the twins, he pulled himself off the bench. There was a squall of laughter as he limped through the muttered insults and mock encouragement towards Osvald’s table.