‘Loyal? The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word.’

‘Where did he go?’

‘How should I know? Why should I care? Why do you care?’

Lilla exchanged a glance with Gerutha. ‘We had reason to hope he might be here. He served us well in the past.’ A towering understatement; she owed him her life. ‘Can he be found?’

‘I have no idea!’

‘Does anyone know where he went?’

‘Listen,’ snapped Osvald, losing patience. ‘Did you come here seeking a cripple, Lady, or an alliance?’

‘Erlan Aurvandil may be useful to us. I will reward any information about his whereabouts generously. Will you make this known?’

‘No, I will not make it known,’ Osvald replied in an acid voice. ‘Not until you give me your answer.’

Lilla hesitated, reluctant to return to the unwelcome condition of his agreement. ‘You ask a great deal—’

‘As do you, my lady. As do you. So what is it to be?’

Lilla gazed about for deliverance from some quarter but the starkness of the choice was inescapable and hers alone to make. The young servant girl was standing in attendance, clutching a silver pitcher. She held out her cup and the girl hurried forward and filled it, her big soulful eyes fixed on her task. When the cup was full she glanced up and Lilla gave her the glimmer of a smile in thanks.

‘It’s been a long and weary journey. I need rest. We all do.’ She turned back to Osvald. ‘As to your proposal, my lord – you shall have your answer. In the morning.’

They needed rest, true enough. But circumstance would not allow it. They were led to a smaller hall just inside the palisade wall and made comfortable enough with thick blankets and woollen mattresses stuffed with fresh straw. A fire was lit and they were left to their sleep. . . But they didn’t sleep; they talked. And the talk went round and round like a millstone.

Einar was all for acceptance. This was a good beginning, he argued, far more than they could have hoped for. ‘All right, so Osvald is hardly a leader to inspire, but it’s you who men will follow, not him. Once you have seven or eight thousand at your back, more will come.’

‘But how many? Will it be enough?’

‘If the gods are smiling.’

Lilla grimaced. Had they been smiling when Thrand took his pleasure with her? Would they be smiling still if Osvald had his way?

‘It’s all very well you telling our lady to sell herself so cheap,’ countered Gerutha. ‘It’s not you has to sleep with that greasy weasel.’