And because no man in his right mind questioned Somerled when he had that particular expression on his face, and used that particular tone of voice, they took their weapons and went out again, one party to Engus’s lands in the west, one north toward Holy Island, and the last southward in the direction of Hafnarvagr. Somerled watched them go, and then he went back into the hall and took out the kidskin bag that held Margaret’s fine set of game pieces, her farewell gift from the Jarl. He hummed to himself a little as he set them up, pale ivory, banded silver, polished board adorned with fair inlay of beasts and twining leaves. A pity there was no worthy opponent here; he must fetch Margaret back. It was time; she’d have learned her lesson by now. She must see that it was unacceptable for Ulf’s widow to speak out openly against the new king’s policies. Margaret had surprised him with that. After all, she had given herself to him, and that, surely, implied a certain level of loyalty. The experience itself had been less than a stunning success; where was the enjoyment when a woman had no fight in her? Unfortunately, her outspoken comments had continued, beginning to awaken doubts in his household. It had become necessary to remove Margaret from court. Still, in due course she would make a satisfactory wife. One could seek one’s physical release outside the marital bed, after all. And Margaret was still the only one who could match him at games. Yes, he would recall her soon. He recognized with surprise that he missed her; her cleverness, her ready wit, her elegance still pleased him as they had from the first. He’d just have to make it completely clear what might happen if she didn’t keep her mouth shut.

Meanwhile, lacking a suitable adversary, he must pit his skills against himself. His fingers reached with confidence to grasp the carven head of the small white king; smoothly, he made his move.

TEN