A great crowd of folk had watched the ritual. Margaret stood by Ulf’s side, the picture of a good wife, her dark eyes watchful. She spoke to her husband once or twice, and he bent his head courteously to listen. And Eyvind saw that fellow again, the one they called Firehead, standing among the crew of the knarr. They were a rough-looking group of men, but folk said they were the best, tried and tested in all conditions. He was sure it was Sigurd; now the fellow was looking across at Somerled, who stood tight-lipped and pale at the back of the Jarl’s household. There was an expression on Firehead’s face that Eyvind fancied he had seen before, in the hills above his mother’s longhouse, when Sigurd had chopped wood as if meting out deadly punishment. Somerled glanced across, and suddenly Firehead was talking to one of the other crewmen, and not looking their way at all. The smallest trace of a smile flickered across Somerled’s face, and was gone.

That night the feasting was long and hearty, and Jarl Magnus was generous with his praises and his gifts. Reluctantly, he granted Hakon formal release from his service. He gave his warrior a fine cloak of beaver pelt, and a sword whose blade flickered in the light with a pattern like sun on a fair waterfall. There were others who intended to stay on in the Light Isles, and all received rich gifts: robes, cloaks, daggers, or axes. He gave Ulf a pair of great hunting dogs. Behind the Jarl’s back, the knarr’s crew exchanged glances and grimaces: more livestock to carry. Thord, who had served five years as a Wolfskin and wore a great seam across his face to prove it, was presented with a comely dark-skinned slave girl with long hair to her waist, and midnight-black eyes. Thord could not keep the grin from his scarred features, and the girl did not appear at all put out by the prospect of a long ocean voyage, or the company of a man with so many teeth missing. It is in such ventures to new lands that slaves become wives; that serfs become free men and women. Perhaps she sensed that, for her dark eyes snapped with excitement as she made her way to the Wolfskin’s side. It was well known that Thord intended to size the new place up, and stay on if it took his fancy.

Margaret received a length of best linen, a double string of amber beads, and a set of game pieces cunningly carved in whalebone, with a silver inlaid board. She smiled politely, inclined her head respectfully, and thanked the Jarl in economical words. Eyvind could see the small frown on her brow; he watched as her eyes flicked across to Somerled, who sat silent in his usual place, shadowed by a pillar. Then she sat down again by her husband, her hands in her lap.