Except for the sentries, every soul there drew close to hear.

“Princess Theophanu sent word that she has no army and no treasure and cannot aid you, Your Grace.”

Sister Eligia cried out, but Constance touched her forearm to quiet her. “Go on. How do you come to us now, then, with Lady Sabella’s seal?”

“We took matters into our own hands, Erkanwulf and I.” He told the story at length, and was interrupted often. The soldiers who knew somewhat more of the matter offered comments at intervals. The sergeant brought around ale and cheese and days-old bread, and they drank and ate with a will, and gratefully, for they were all so hungry. When Ivar had finished his story, Constance nodded. She lifted both hands in the manner of a biscop calling her flock to prayers.

“Let us sing in thanksgiving, Brothers and Sisters.” She had a light soprano, clear and true, and the others followed easily, accustomed to her lead.

“Exalted be God, our deliverer,

Who has rescued me from my enemies

And saved me from lawless men.”

But not delivered yet. Ivar brooded as the others settled down to sleep on blankets and furs. Having been cast out into the wilderness, they were content to be free. Ivar sat with knees drawn up and chin on knees. Beside him, Ermanrich snored softly.

“You are troubled, Ivar,” murmured Sigfrid.

“We must wait for Captain Ulric. It could all come undone if Lady Sabella suspects and sends another troop after us. If Captain Tammus rides quickly to Autun and discovers the truth.”

“A journey of some days. We are safe for the moment. That isn’t what troubles you.”

Ivar frowned, but it was Sigfrid asking: so frail in his body and so strong in his mind, a curious vessel for God’s favor but a precious and holy one nonetheless. “I wonder if I could have acted otherwise. I should have insisted that Hanna go with me when my father sent me south to Quedlinhame. I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly to her when we next met. What if Hanna won’t forgive me? Why was I so unfair to Liath as to think she might love me in the same way I loved her? Was I blind? And what of Baldwin?”

‘Are you afraid of Baldwin?”

He shrugged off the question by turning it. “We would all be dead without his sacrifice.”

“Yes,” agreed Sigfrid calmly, “but he was only following the example of the blessed Daisan, was he not? Not every person is given the blessing of sacrifice, Ivar. We have reason to hope that he will escape and reunite with us, do we not? God has rewarded Baldwin for thinking of others before himself.”

“Is that meant as a rebuke to me?”

“Only if you hear it that way.” Sigfrid chuckled. “I missed you, Ivar. No one else frets in quite the way you do.”

The words cut through the knot that had for many days been stuck in his throat. Before he knew it, he was weeping, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled not to sob out loud and wake Ermanrich and the two soldiers who were crowded into the tent with them and sleeping soundly.