“An oath, lord?”

“To kill your brother.”

She again made the small noise, then turned and stared at the great gray waters where the whitecaps rippled to the horizon. There were no ships in sight, just wind-shredded waves that broke in bright spray against the Farnea Islands. I looked down at her face, expecting to see tears in her blue eyes, but instead she was half smiling. “My brothers,” she said, still gazing at the sea, “were never kind to me, lord, and Æthelhelm was always the cruelest.”

“Cruel?”

“He’s much older than I am,” she said, “much older! And he didn’t like me.”

“Did he beat you?”

“Not badly, not often, but he was spiteful. Mother once gave me a necklace of jet. It was beautiful, and Æthelhelm took it. He took whatever he wanted and if I cried he would slap me, but only slap.” She shook her head. “He gave the necklace to one of the kitchen slaves.”

“Who doubtless earned it on her back,” I said.

She looked up at me, surprised, then laughed. “She did,” she said, “and nine months later she gave birth to a little girl, but the baby died.” She instinctively put a hand on the golden cat, then put her arm through mine. “When I was eight my father gave me a pony, and I called him Stifearh because he looked like a fat little pig.” She laughed, remembering her pony. “And the first time I tried to ride Stifearh my brother put thistles under the saddle. He thought it was funny! And of course poor Stifearh bucked and I was thrown. I broke my leg!”

“Didn’t your father punish him?”

“He laughed too.” She looked up at me earnestly. “Father wasn’t always unkind. He could be generous.”

I drew her on, walking north on the high fighting platform. “So will you be angry with me if I kill your brother?” I asked.

“He’s your enemy, lord, I know that.” She hesitated, then frowned. “But I’m your daughter now,” she added fiercely, “so I’ll pray for you.”

It seemed that telling my daughter-in-law that I had sworn to slaughter her brother was not so difficult after all, but finding Sköll was proving more than difficult. For a start he must have known we were searching for him because two of my search parties had been pursued and one man killed, and none of the scouts returned with any useful news. A messenger came from Eoferwic to tell me that Sigtryggr’s men were being equally unsuccessful. “It’s as if Sköll is a ghost, lord,” the messenger told me. “Everyone has heard of him, no one knows where he is.”

“Or they’re too frightened to speak,” I suggested.

“King Sigtryggr believes the sorcerer can hide Sköll’s home, lord. That he can wrap it in cloud.”

I touched my hammer and feared for my son. We were not just fighting Sköll, and he was formidable enough, but his sorcerer too. I had told Uhtred the Younger to be back within ten days, but two weeks passed and still he had not returned. Ælswyth spent hours praying in Bebbanburg’s small chapel, while Finan, more usefully, led thirty men south and west, seeking news in every settlement, but folk had heard nothing of any fight in the far hills. “He’ll come back,” Eadith assured me. She had found me on Bebbanburg’s landward rampart, gazing into the hills.