Winter came, and there was no meeting between Somerled and the king. The situation went from bad to worse. There was a skirmish on the border between their own land and Engus’s farms, and one of the islanders was killed. There was another encounter in the south, and men on both sides were injured. Eyvind did not take part in either, for Somerled had sent him off to check on the security of their easternmost holdings, and by the time he came back to the settlement, it was all over. But the first blood had been spilled. It seemed to Eyvind that now would be a good time to talk to the king, before matters got completely out of hand. Indeed, he wondered why Somerled had not arranged this already. He mentioned it, diffidently, to Harald Silvertongue and to Olaf Sveinsson. Both greeted his idea with indifference. He asked Holgar what he thought, and Holgar said, “Aren’t you his friend? Speak to him yourself.” So he did, though by now he was beginning to remember things Somerled had said in the past, about how a Wolfskin should stick to what he knew best, which was fighting, and leave thinking to those who had the wit for it.

“Somerled?”

“Yes?” Somerled was making a map, his quill moving in confident strokes on the piece of parchment that lay, its corners weighted by polished stones, on the table before him. It was a map of the Light Isles, Eyvind could see that, with little bays and lakes and here and there words that he could not understand. It covered all the parts where Somerled had so far journeyed. There, in the northwest corner of the largest island, was the Whaleback sitting in the ocean, and a tiny line joining it to the land. It was wonderful that a man could make such fine things, such clever things.

“I wanted to suggest something.”

“Mmm?”

“It seems to me…I was thinking…”

“Come on, Eyvind, I’m not an ogre. Out with it.”

“I thought it might be time for that meeting with King Engus. Before things get any worse. You know what Ulf agreed to, what he wanted for the islands. I think he would expect that you make peace with Engus, despite what has happened. That might be best.”

The movement of the quill halted. Somerled looked up.

“Why?” he asked.

“I think…it seems to me there could be great losses here, if you don’t do something about it now,” Eyvind said, relieved that Somerled had not dismissed his idea outright. “There is still a chance of peace and cooperation. But you must move before it’s too late. That’s what I think.”

There was a little pause.

“Finished?” inquired Somerled.

Eyvind said nothing.