At first, as I recovered, the only thing I was aware of was the triumphant shouts of a victorious enemy. They bellowed their insults, blew horns, and clattered swords against shields as they invited us back to the ramparts. Sigtryggr’s bigger assault, like mine, had also been driven back, and Sköll’s men were mocking us. “I never even planted one ladder,” Sigtryggr told me later. “There were too many of the bastards.”

The next thing I remember is the sharp pain as Vidarr pulled off my damaged helmet. “Christ, be careful!” Finan snarled at him as blood flowed from my scalp. He poured water on my head. “Lord? Lord?”

I must have mumbled something because I remember Vidarr’s surprised words. “He’s alive!”

“Take more than a bloody rock to kill him,” Finan said. “Bandage his head. You, girl! Come here!”

“Girl?” I muttered, but no one heard me.

Elwina, one of Ieremias’s angels, was evidently on the hilltop. “Tear a strip off your gown,” Finan ordered her, “and tie up his head.”

“I’m all right,” I said, and tried to sit up.

“Stay!” Finan snarled at me as though I was one of his dogs. “Bind it tight, girl.”

“She shouldn’t be here,” I said, or tried to say. I was gazing up at a clearing sky, though the left side of my sight was darkened. I flinched, suddenly aware of the pain in my skull. “Where’s my sword?” I asked in panic.

“Safe in her scabbard, lord,” Finan said, “now lie down and let the girl bandage you.”

“I want to see,” I said, and struggled up, hauling on Elwina’s arm. She was surprisingly strong and managed to pull me into a sitting position. My sight was blurred, still dark on the one side, but I saw Ieremias had come with his angels.

The mad bishop was in his embroidered robes, still carrying his crozier on which he had tied the ram’s skull. He crouched in front of me and stared at me with his intense dark eyes. “The stone, lord,” he hissed, “we need the stone!”

“Bugger off, bishop,” Finan snarled.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“You got a tap on the head,” Finan elbowed Ieremias aside.

“The stone!” Ieremias insisted. “Give me the stone or we lose!”

“He’ll give you the stone when he’s ready,” Finan said, having no idea what he was talking about. “Bind it tight, girl.”

“I need a helmet,” I said.

“The stone!” Ieremias called again.

“Bishop,” Finan said angrily, “unless you want your two angels to spend the next month flat on their backs pleasuring Norsemen you’d better go. Take them back to the horses, then go back home.”

“I’m needed here,” Ieremias said indignantly.

My son pushed the bishop further away and stooped to me. “Father?”

“I’m all right,” I said.

“He’s not,” Finan insisted.

“I need a helmet.”

“Your day’s done, lord,” Finan said.

“A helmet!”

“Stay still, lord,” Elwina said. She finished bandaging my skull. “Does it hurt, lord?”

“Of course it bloody hurts,” Finan said, “now bandage his thigh.”