“I told you he saved my life once, when we were boys. That day, he was heroic, strong, altogether admirable. I owe him a great debt for what he did. And he helped me, at the Jarl’s court. I hated the clever talk, the game-playing, the need to summon ready words in order to avoid ridicule. I was respected as a warrior, but I never learned to be a courtier. Over and over again, he got me out of trouble, stood up for me. He could always find the words I needed. And he was kind to Margaret, Ulf’s wife. When she was lonely, he made time for her. She is, I think, the only other to whom he reveals himself, and then but rarely. I cannot believe he is all bad, Nessa. If only he could stand in the other man’s shoes, if only he could understand that it is not a game he plays, but his own life, a precious thing to be lived well and fully: his chance to get things right, to prove his worth. If he knew that, he would have much to give.”

Nessa’s hands tightened around his. She felt curiously close to tears again. “It seems to me you judge him by your own measure,” she said a little shakily. “It’s clear you have not wasted your time here.”

“Really?” he asked softly. “But I still don’t know where to go or what I should do. How can I turn against him? How can I walk away from a vow of lifelong loyalty?”

“I cannot tell you that,” said Nessa. She was aware of the door opening behind her, and Rona coming in. No doubt the old woman was looking at her unbound hair, and her hands clasped around Eyvind’s; the two of them sat quite close. Nessa did not snatch her hands away. “But tonight I will seek answers,” she told him. “So much hangs in the balance here, it seems impossible that we may influence it, Eyvi. A terrible task, a task demanding so much courage, so much strength. I don’t rightly know how it can be done. But we must do it.”

“We?”

She looked into his eyes and nodded. Then she withdrew her hands and got up.

“Is everything ready?” she asked the old woman.

“You did the right thing,” commented Rona. “Gave him your forgiveness. You can move on now, and so can the big fellow. Yes, I’ve set it out. Pity I can’t do the whole of it for you, but the old bones are too stiff for a Calling now; it takes a lot out of you. Ready?”

“Yes,” said Nessa. “I’m ready.”

It was cold and dry. It was dark, a place enclosed in stillness. The lamps Rona had lit conjured looming shadows on the walls. By the steps leading up, the seven small skulls regarded Nessa unwinking from their stone shelf. By them was set a helm, a fine, glittering object with a spike on top, a curtain of delicate metal rings, and a masklike eyepiece. The Hidden Tribe have a fondness for shiny things. That made eight faces looking on as Nessa settled cross-legged on the earthen floor.