He turned to address Astrid, speaking to her in a hushed voice so only she could hear. ‘You think you are clever, don’t you? You think you and this witch have bested me? Well, let us see. You may yet regret this little stunt.’ He turned to the crowd, holding his hands up for quiet. ‘The queen speaks true. It is the right of Erik Rivengeld to demand this ordeal.’ He looked at the expectant faces turned in his direction. ‘Champions must be chosen to represent both sides.’ He glanced at the accused young man standing beneath the gallows, a sneer forming on his lips. ‘Unless the king intends to fight himself?’

‘My brother is clearly in no state to do so,’ declared Astrid. ‘But we will give those who found him guilty the first choice of champion.’

There was a pause, everyone in the crowd waiting for the jarl to name his participant. ‘The council chooses Frindr Oknhammer as its combatant!’

This announcement was met with a loud gasp. Glaeverssun turned his attention back to Fleya, and was clearly pleased to see she appeared to be as taken aback by this unexpected turn of events as everyone else.

Astrid swallowed. Oknhammer was a mercenary warrior, a savage man with the reputation of selling his sword to the highest bidder. It was rumoured he’d killed a hundred men, others said that the number was much greater even than that. But the man was not a Stromgardian, and his services had never been used by either her father or uncle.

Fleya met the jarl’s look. ‘Frindr Oknhammer is not here in Stromgard,’ she said. ‘What game is this?’

‘A deadly one,’ Glaeverssun answered, allowing himself to smile now that he had regained the upper hand. ‘Oknhammer arrived here this morning at my request. I had no idea we would have to call on his help so soon.’ He gave Astrid a sad look. ‘You ask for trial by combat? For your brother to be judged by the gods? So be it.’ Turning, he gestured for a nearby guard to fetch the mercenary.

The look that passed between Fleya and Astrid was a miserable one. They had expected Glaeverssun to pick Brant Skifrmunn, the finest sword in Stromgard and Astrid’s unrequited sweetheart. Fleya had already spoken with the warrior, and he had agreed to their scheme: he would wait to be summoned and then denounce the trial and declare his fealty to Erik. They were certain that nobody would step forward to challenge Skifrmunn, and Erik could be freed without the need for any bloodshed.

The mercenary had not been part of their plan.