Eyjolf stopped. For a while only plop of hoofs and creak of leather sounded. “That was a hard thing to say,” he added. “I must, though, for I know not how much longer I can keep this trust you gave me.”

“Wildness runs in our blood,” Hadding sighed. “My daughter Svanhvit, by my leman Gyda, has no liking for women’s work either, and talks of becoming a shield maiden.”

“We hear tell of such, but how many have there ever really been? Well, at least Svanhvit’s no threat to anyone but herself, is she?”

“Not yet. Ulfhild, though, stems from kings on both spear and distaff side. I’d thought of wedding her to a king, but now I wonder. She might stir up hungers in him. I don’t want Denmark torn by war, Frodi fighting for his rights, after I’m gone.”

“Well, she’s of an age for a husband—sixteen winters, if I’ve reckoned aright.”

“I’ll take her home with me,” said Hadding, “and we shall see.”

Eyjolf’s head lifted, as if a burden had been taken off his shoulders.

At first the young woman was blissful. She skipped over the grounds, she hugged her horse almost as if it were her man to be, she chattered like a brook in between fits of laughter. “I’m going away, I’m going away, I’m going away!” she sang. “Away from sour sameness, away from this pen, back to the world!”

“You might thank your fosterers for their kindness,” growled Hadding.

She gave him a narrow look and said no more. When they left she did indeed speak well to Eyjolf and his wife. “I know you had much to bear with,” she told them, “but I’ll never forget what I learned from you.”

Afterward Hadding thought that that could have two meanings. But on the trek to Zealand she was the best of way-mates, blithe and lively.

When he settled her in the hall at Haven, she was likewise delighted and delightful. The roominess, the wealth, the comings and goings, strange goods and stranger tales from abroad, the skalds and their lays, everything was new and bright to her eyes. “So should a queen live!” she cried more than once. Hadding held back from saying that she was not a queen.

Then as the months slipped by, bit by bit it changed between them. Her wrath blazed high or sank into slow fire. Again she took to lashing out at housefolk, riding about alone, affronting guests and making eyes at men.