Fires sprang down the length of the hall. What smoke did not escape through the roofholes drifted, sweetened by juniper boughs. Though summer daylight lingered, shadows deepened, as if to bring weightiness; but the fire-flicker made them unrestful.

A hush fell when the queen led the other high-born women in to give out filled drinking horns. To King Haakon she handed the horn of a great aurochs, banded with gold and graven with runes. He lifted and said, “We drink the cup of Freyr.”

This was olden wont here, with which a feast began. Whoever wanted to make a vow would then get up and cry it aloud. None did, so now the servants brought in the trestle tables and heaped them with food. Men ate and drank and made merry. Guesting this many every day heightened the king’s renown, but he would not be sorry to see an end of the outlay.

Dusk had fallen when the tables were cleared away. Then Ragnhild trod forth to stand before the high seat and raise a horn of her own. Firelight went like sea waves over her. She seemed to glow against the gloom behind. Breath and a mumble flew around the hall. This was unheard of for a woman. Yet they knew that she was not like other women and that the Norns had sung no lowly weird over her cradle.

“Freyr and Freyja hear me, and all high gods,” she called. “It is not right that when men come asking for my hand we keep them waiting long. You know my father lets me choose among them. Hard is that to do, when each is mighty and well thought of. Yet I must plight myself to one and one only. This eventide I will do so.”

A surf of voices rumbled along the benches. She let it die down before she went on: “How I do this will strike you as odd. But on the Troll’s Hood I learned what sign it is I am to seek. You are wise men, who will understand that what is at work here is more than human.

“Sit where you are. I will go among you and feel of your legs.” A few startled laughs sounded. “Your legs upbear you on earth and bring you wherever you fare. Even on horse back, even in wain or ship, your legs are your strength. I tell you, this is knowledge I have from beyond the world of men.”

Some shivered at that, and everyone grew quiet. King Haakon spoke soothing words. The wooers sat tight strung.

From each to each did Ragnhild pass. Bending low, she felt a man’s calves up and down. He might well quiver as that touch pressed breeks against skin. But he held his mouth. Her face she kept unstirring.