The Jarl conferred with his landowners. There would, no doubt, be charges brought at the next Thing. He would need their support, for the kinsmen of the slain would be eager for compensation. Still, as long as there were men who would speak up about the conspiracy and bear witness to the plotting, the one matter might be set against the other, and the price for these deaths not be beyond what he was prepared to pay.

Such negotiations must be handled carefully, and not rushed. By the time the Jarl returned to court, the Sea Princess was beached in Freyrsfjord once more, and Ulf was back.

The wedding had been delayed long enough. Within days, the ceremony took place, the vows were spoken, and the bridal ale was poured and quaffed. In view of Ulf’s recent loss, the mood was convivial rather than riotous. Margaret was very quiet, as was often the case with young brides on their wedding day. Probably nervous, Eirik commented. After all, she hardly knew the fellow. Eyvind thought Margaret did not look nervous, sitting neat and self-contained in her green silk overdress and snowy linen, with yellow flowers woven through her sleek auburn hair. No, he thought she looked as Somerled sometimes looked: as if she could see much farther ahead than anyone else, and was already planning some far-distant strategy. He thought Ulf was the one who looked nervous. As for Somerled, he sat by a pillar with his face in shadow. Through the long day he had appeared quite composed and not in the least upset. Eyvind took a mouthful of ale. Soon the bride would be put to bed, and her new husband led to her, and this would all be over. Then he would go to Signe’s small house, and tap on her door, and for a while he would forget everything but the warmth of her smile and the magic of her touch.

“Won’t be long now before Ulf’s up and away,” said Eirik with a grin. “He’s left it long enough; must be well and truly ready for her.”

But Ulf seemed in no hurry for the marriage bed. He had risen to his feet now, and was addressing Jarl Magnus, his dark features more than usually intense.

“My lord, you have done us proud today with feasting and gifts, with music and good hospitality. Indeed, you have at all times been the most noble and generous of patrons, the most loyal of kinsmen, and I hope I have not stinted in expressing my gratitude.”

Magnus inclined his head, waiting for more.

“My lord,” Ulf said, “I wish to ask a favor. I wish to present to you a proposal: a bold plan that has been much in my thoughts.”

“Go on.”