He slipped Nessa’s small talisman inside his tunic, close to his heart. He would not lay this precious thing away beside the dark remembrance of a brother’s treachery. He took a last look around him. The cottage was no more than a shell, the earth still bore the marks of raiders’ boots, the little fire where the three of them had sat together was cold. Eyvind looked up at the sky as he had seen Rona do, and as he gazed, a flock of birds passed over, a scattering of silver flashes against the palest gray of morning. The enchantment of light…the patterns of being…they are life itself. Perhaps he would never come back here. Perhaps he would never see his two wise women again. With axe, sword, and knives, with wolfskin on shoulders and bright helm held ready, Eyvind felt as naked as a new babe, a warrior going forth quite unarmed to face the enemy. He set his face to the southeast and walked away from the women’s place. All that he had was the truth; it must be enough.

It seemed much farther than he had remembered. He skirted the shores of the large loch that lay inland from the women’s place, stopping to hide several times as parties of armed men passed by. He was not covering the distance as quickly as he had expected, and yet he was already tired, his legs aching, his head throbbing. By the time he reached a crossroads that he judged to be the halfway point of his journey, the sun was moving down toward the west, and the wind was brisk and chill. He noted that there were far more of his own folk about than islanders. Now he was in a part of the island where King Engus had said Ulf’s people might travel freely. Not that that seemed to matter anymore. Had not Somerled’s men marched boldly into the most forbidden of places with weapons drawn? Perhaps it was already war.

Odin’s bones, he was weary. Sitting down to rest under this rocky outcrop had been a mistake, for while he forced himself on he could ignore the pain in his legs, the dizziness in his head, the powerful urge to find a place of refuge and seek respite in sleep. He could not allow himself to give in to that. There must be no more running away. Before dusk today he must walk into Somerled’s hall and ask to speak to him in private. He must find the right words and make Somerled believe them. He would sit just a moment longer, and then he would go on.