“You must join us in making war on Denmark. Hold!” Tosti lifted a hand. “What I mean is to lure King Hadding to his death. Without him, his lands will lie open to those who go in at once, before his jarls or his young son can rally the Danes anew. There’ll be no dearth of chieftains who’ll join us, eager to share the spoils. But first we must be rid of Hadding.”

“No, you’re mad!”

Tosti fleered. “If I am, you needn’t share the madness. Only tell me no, and die tomorrow. But if you have any wisdom, you’ll at least hear me out first.”

They talked long into the night. Stars wheeled, owls hooted, wolf-song wailed. Tosti wheedled, browbeat, uttered terrible threats, made vast promises, and wore the Saxon down. The upshot was that at dawn they swore oaths.

Folk at Haven knew nothing of this. They were holding a feast that would be long remembered, when Hadding’s son Frodi wedded Viborg, daughter of King Hunding in Svithjod. Whole herds had plodded across Zealand to feed the guests, whole wagon trains brought ale, mead, and outland wine to slake them. Houses bulged with sleepers, tents and booths crowded acres. Fires brawled, racket rang to the sky, skalds chanted their verses, mummers played their pranks, everybody talked, sang, told tales, dickered, seldom quarreled and never too badly, spoke of what was to come, sported, japed, and after dark begot no few children.

When the torchbearers had led the young man and woman to their bridal bower, while raw good wishes were shouted forth to frighten off evil beings and help bring fruitfulness, the fathers withdrew for a while They strolled out through the fields under stars and a sickle moon. The air rested cool. The noise of merrymaking grew faint behind them.

“Well,” said Hadding low, “now it’s done. May they find gladness.”

Hunding chuckled. “From what I’ve heard of Frodi and know of you, my Viborg will never feel slighted.”

“It’s not easy, being man and wife, and more may hang on this wedlock than on most.”

“You’re thoughtful. Why now?”

Hadding smiled wryly. “A man grows older.”

“But we can only make the best of our lives, no? What our offspring may do with theirs lies beyond us.”

“Still, I watch them as they grow up, and wonder.”

“Keeping track of that many must keep you busy.” Suddenly Hunding caught hold of the Dane’s arm. “Fear not, good friend. You’ll stay above ground a long while yet. You may outlive me, and I’m not worrying.”

Hadding looked at him. “You’re younger.”

“No man may flee his weird. But while you’re alive, I’ll be happy, and peace will abide between our kingdoms.” Hunding shrugged. “Come, this is getting too grave. Let’s go back and drain some more beakers.”

As they walked, he saw how Hadding limped more heavily than erstwhile.