Yet there was hope. He agreed to everything Captain Ulric said.

Quietly and in shadows, the war band left their barracks by ones and twos. Slowly, the stables were emptied out. Ivar walked with Erkanwulf through deserted streets with a taper to light their way, leading four horses whose hooves clopped hollowly on the pavement of stone.

They waited for hours and hours at the river gate although, in truth, it wasn’t longer than it would take to sing the morning mass. The gurgle of the river serenaded them. The wind brought the smell of refuse. It was otherwise silent and dark. He could barely distinguish the walls of Autun behind him where he stood huddling at their base on the broad strand between gate and river’s edge. A score of boats had been drawn up onto the shore. The wharves were farther downstream, by the northern gate. A rat scuttled into the wavering, smoky light given off by the taper, froze, and vanished when Erkanwulf threw a knife at it. The blade stuck in the ground, and he leaned down to pull it free.

“Where are the others?” Ivar asked.

“Most of them will remain behind to join the force that hunts for us. They’ll join us later. A dozen men wait for you past the ferry. Here is Captain Ulric.”

The captain emerged from the river gate, spoke tersely and in a low voice with the pair of guards who had let them all through, and stepped back to allow Baldwin to pass through. Baldwin paused with a hand half raised in the air, as if touching something he had not seen for years. He turned, searching, and found Ivar.

“They say I’m to ride south, so that she’ll follow me and not suspect what’s happening. Is that right?”

“That’s right, Baldwin. That’s the plan. She’ll follow the light that shines brightest to her.”

Baldwin reached into his sleeve and withdrew a rolled parchment bound with leather. “Here it is. A letter calling for the biscop’s release and stating that as long as she departs Varre and never returns she is free to go, otherwise her life is forfeit. I thought it was most believable done that way. She’s not merciful.”

He offered it. Hand shaking, Ivar took it from him. He was hot and cold at once. Words had abandoned him. He tugged the lapis lazuli ring off his finger and pressed it into Baldwin’s warm palm.

Baldwin slipped the ring onto his own finger, held Ivar’s gaze a moment longer, and turned to the captain. “I’m ready.”

“Erkanwulf will guide you,” said the captain.

The pair moved away into the night, although the taper’s light was visible for an interminable interval as they made their way up the strand.

The parchment Ivar held paralyzed him. That quickly, Baldwin was gone, torn from him again. And anyway, he was so unaccustomed to succeeding that it seemed impossible he just had.

“I’ll ride with you to the ferry,” said the captain. “Sergeant Hugo will accompany you to Queen’s Grave. The rest of us will meet you as soon as we can on the road to Kassel. Go then. Go with God. May She watch over you.”