‘They’re a funny-looking bunch, aren’t they?’ hissed Gerutha in a low voice. Certainly they looked nothing like the people of the north. Their faces were dished and clean-shaven, with sharp, high cheekbones. Their hair was dark and long and woven into a single braid at the back. The thralls among them stood in a huddle to one side, muttering to each other, while the warriors strutted like stags in rut, perhaps for her benefit, perhaps for the other Northmen.

‘So. . . do you know where we are?’ she asked.

‘Aye. In the right place,’ he grunted, tossing his knapsack to one of his men who had already started loading up the carts with their cargo. ‘More or less.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘We’re a day and half’s march from the Dnipar valley. This lot live in a village on its northern bank.’

‘You’ve seen the river?’ exclaimed Lilla, suddenly excited.

‘Aye,’ he replied. ‘I’ve seen it.’

‘And?’

‘And she’s as beautiful as ever she was.’

Lilla felt her heart lift with hope. ‘A day and a half’s march. Why, that’s not far at all!’

‘Huh! You can walk it in a day and a half. It’ll take us closer to five hauling that big beast.’ He shot her his rakish smile. ‘Well, Lady. I hope you’re ready for a nightmare.’

A nightmare was what they got. Four days of physical toil and exhaustion as they hacked a swathe through the land. All the while, the scent of pine sap mingled with the stink of sweat and animal grease, and the woods echoed with the whine and gnaw of straining ropes as Fasolt bucked and yawed like a monster of the deep over its wooden rollers. Axes thumped, timber fell, whips snapped, oxen bellowed.

Meanwhile their warrior escort – from a tribe calling themselves the Varkonni, according to Bayan – rode along, sullen and suspicious, observing the Northmen’s struggles with disdain. As if such work was far beneath them. Lilla didn’t much care for their sidelong glances at her or Gerutha either.

At last the land descended out of the hills into what Lilla hoped was the Dnipar valley. And around noon on the fifth day, with the sun ablaze in a cloudless sky, they crested the final ridge line and there below them was the sweep of a broad, green river. The mighty Dnipar. The crew let out an exultant cheer.

‘How’s that for a sight?’ said Valrik, coming up beside her.

Lilla smiled. ‘It’ll do. But I’ll be happier when we see the halls of Miklagard.’

Valrik laughed. ‘Gods, didn’t I always say a woman is never satisfied?’

‘I wouldn’t admit to that if I were you,’ she murmured, already shielding her eyes and looking east.

‘Hah! And there was me thinking a lady like you was too lofty to be interested in such things.’