Somerled had robbed him of Ulf’s buckle. Very well, without material evidence one must produce some other kind of proof. What had Brother Tadhg said? That it was unusual for such a crime to have no witnesses at all? Somerled could not have killed his brother thus, with such elaborate attention to detail, without at least one accomplice. Find that man, persuade him to talk, and there would be a case. Present that before the men of the court, Olaf Sveinsson, Harald Silvertongue, the more reasonable of Ulf’s advisers, and he could sway the balance here. The men of Rogaland were not blind to what was right. A warrior might charge in to the attack without weighing the character of his enemy, but he would never pledge allegiance to a brother-killer. Prove his guilt, and Somerled would be finished.

He’d need help. It would have to be Eirik: Eirik who now dwelt in the south, where it was just possible witnesses might be found and coerced to speak out against their chieftain. Big, wild-bearded Eirik was quite good at getting people to talk, with limited damage. A course of action began to emerge: get out of this hole, find his brother, hide while a witness was sought, return to Somerled’s court and present the case. If only Somerled conducted matters as Magnus did back at Freyrsfjord. The formal proceedings of a Thing would provide the measure of protection needed to put a case together, as well as a forum where all arguments must get a fair hearing. That was all he asked. But it seemed Somerled had dispensed with the Thing, making himself sole arbiter and judge. He alone would determine punishment. That, surely, was too much power even for the wisest of men. Odin’s bones, he hoped Eirik would not look on him with the shock and scorn he had seen in the eyes of Erlend and Holgar.

Escape: he knew how he would do that. It was just a matter of resting, of eating this foul lump of moldered bread and drinking this brackish water, and being ready at dawn when they opened the door, tomorrow, or the next day, as soon as he was strong enough. Rest, now. Slow the wild thoughts, calm the thundering heart, make the limbs easy. Sleep safe, my Bright Star. Dream of fair things. My hand in yours.