His grin was as grey as he felt. “You know what they say. That old grass always looks greener.”

“You grazing in somebody else’s pasture?”

“What?” He heaved himself to his feet, stumbled round looking for his clothing.

“Last night was only the second time this month.”

He gave it the light treatment. “I’m getting old.”

Something inside cawed sarcastically. He was fooling himself, not her. A nasty black chasm yawned at his feet. Trouble was, he did not know if it was waiting for him to try jumping over or if he was on the other side looking back.

“Is it another woman, Ragnarson?” There wasn’t any kitten in her now. She was all bitch cat. The habitual brittle smile had left her lips.

“No.” For once he was telling the truth. He didn’t have a single little round-heel on the string. The soft curves, the warm mounds, the humid thighs did not set the fires roaring these days. They seemed more a distraction than a reasonable interest. They irritated more than excited.

Was it symptomatic of age? Time was an implacable thief.

Ragnarson’s growing indifference worried him. The departure of the drive to collect scalps left a vacuum like the loss of an old friend.

“You’re sure?”

“Absodamnlutely, as friend Mocker might have said.”

“I wish I had met him,” she mused. “Haroun, too. Maybe I’d know you better by knowing them.”

“You should’ve known them….”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Honey, I haven’t had no strange in so long I wouldn’t know what to do. Probably just stand there with my thumb in my ear till the lady cussed me out.”

Inger whipped a comb through her hair. Blonde rat’s nests grabbed it. She was wondering. He had come tagged with a reputation, but had not lived up to it.

Maybe he was too busy. Kavelin was his extramarital lover. She was a demanding mistress.

He eyed this woman who was both his wife and Kavelin’s Queen. She was the one gift the wars had given him. Time had done well by her. She was a tall, elegant woman of brittle beauty and even more brittle humor. She had the most intriguing mouth he had ever seen. No matter her mood, her lips seemed on the verge of a sarcastic smile. Something about her green eyes magnified that foreshadow of laughter.

First glance said she was a lady. Second might suggest an earthy soul. She was an enigma, an intriguing creature hiding inside a shell that betrayed a new mystery each time it opened. Bragi thought her as perfect a Queen as a King could ask. She had been born for the role.

That secret smile came out of hiding. “You just might be telling the truth.”

“Of course I am.”

“And you’re disappointed, eh?”