And all that was true. Yet still I would travel south.

I took an oath, not just to Æthelstan, but to Æthelflaed who had been King Alfred’s daughter and once my lover. I swore to protect Æthelstan and I swore to kill his enemies when Edward died. And if a man breaks an oath he has no honour. We might have much in this life. We might be born to wealth, to land, to success, and I had been given all those things, but when we die we go to the afterlife with nothing except reputation, and a man without honour has no reputation. I would keep my oath.

‘How many men are you taking?’ Sigtryggr asked me.

‘Just forty.’

‘Just forty!’ he echoed scornfully. ‘And what if Constantin of Scotland invades?’

‘He won’t. He’s too busy fighting Owain of Strath Clota.’

‘And the Norse in the west?’ he demanded.

‘We defeated them last year.’

‘And they have new leaders, there are more ships arriving!’

‘Then we’ll defeat them next year,’ I said.

He sat again, and two of his wolfhounds came to be petted. ‘My younger brother came from Ireland,’ he said.

‘Brother?’ I asked. I had known Sigtryggr had a brother, but he had rarely been mentioned and I had thought he had stayed in Ireland.

‘Guthfrith,’ he said the name sourly. ‘He expects me to clothe and feed him.’

I looked around the big chamber where men watched us. ‘He’s here?’

‘Probably in a whorehouse. You’re going south then?’ he asked grumpily. He looked old, I thought, yet he was younger than me. His once handsome face with its missing eye was creased, his hair was grey and lank, his beard thin. I had not seen his new queen in the palace, reports said that she spent much of her time in a convent she had established in the city. She had given Sigtryggr no child.

‘We’re going south,’ I confirmed.

‘Where the worst of the trouble comes from. But don’t travel through Lindcolne,’ he sounded unhappy.

‘No?’

‘There’s a report of the plague there.’

Finan, standing beside me, crossed himself. ‘I’ll avoid Lindcolne,’ I said, raising my voice slightly. There were a dozen servants and household warriors within earshot and I wanted them to hear what I said. ‘We’ll take the western road through Mameceaster.’

‘Then come back soon,’ Sigtryggr said, ‘and come back alive.’

He meant that, he just didn’t sound as if he meant it. We left next day.

I had no intention of going south by any road, but I had wanted any listeners in Sigtryggr’s court to repeat my words. Æthelhelm had his spies in Sigtryggr’s court, and I wanted him watching the Roman roads that led south from Northumbria to Wessex.

I had ridden to Eoferwic, knowing it was my duty to speak with Sigtryggr, but while we rode, Berg had taken Spearhafoc down the coast to a small harbour on the Humbre’s northern bank where he would be waiting for us.