‘I wouldn’t call seven and a half thousand spears cheap. And if I could swive away on behalf of Queen Lilla, I would. Alas, I ain’t so pretty,’ Einar replied with a wink. ‘Listen, Lady Lilla, I mean no impertinence – and believe me, I don’t wish you in this position – but you have to face facts. You’ve no friends and precious little to bargain with. I hate to say it, but this is the best deal you’re like to get.’

Lilla nodded in silence. Precious little to bargain with. A chest full of gold. And herself. She remembered how her father had used her to broker peace – and what it had cost her then. All for nothing. The peace had shattered faster than an egg in a child’s hand. If she had nothing else to play with then this time she meant to use that piece wisely. But was there really nothing better?

‘Sometimes the gods send dreams of guidance when a choice must be made,’ offered Gerutha. ‘Wisdom comes from them, and with it, peace. Sleep is the thing, sweet lady.’

‘Aye,’ she murmured. ‘Sleep.’ As if a few hours of oblivion would wipe away her troubles.

Just then there was a knock at the door, faint as a whisper. The three exchanged glances. Lilla nodded and Einar went to the door and opened it a crack.

‘You?’ Lilla heard him say. ‘What do you want?’

Over the sound of the rain, she heard a small voice, a child’s voice, and after it a deeper, warmer sound, muffled by the door. Einar’s hand moved briefly to the seax-sheath on his back, then away again as he opened the door and admitted two very different figures.

The first was the thrall-girl who had served them supper, now wrapped up against the night, the damp wool of her cloak sparkling in the light of the fire. After her entered a tall, broad-shouldered man. He seemed old at first – his hair and beard were white – but his eyes had steel in them and he moved easily.

‘This one claims he knows where Erlan is,’ Einar said, closing the door.

The whitebeard chuckled. ‘I said I reckon I know which way he went.’

‘That’s not the same thing,’ said Lilla.

‘No. But it’s the best I’ve got.’ The man’s voice was deep and rich as Frankish wine. He was a handsome rogue too, and likely knew it.

‘Who are you?’

‘This one’s father.’ He nodded at the girl. ‘She said you want information about Erlan Aurvandil’s whereabouts—’

‘I do. Tell us what you know.’

‘She also said you’d a mind to reward whoever gave it you.’

Lilla sighed. Of course. ‘Give him a gold ring,’ she said to Einar.

‘But he’s told us nothing—’

‘Give it to him!’