They were given the loft room over a storehouse adjoining the hall, a bed for Karin and a pile of straw at the door for her warrior. “I cannot even remember the last time before tonight I had a good meal,” said Karin sleepily as Roric slid under the blanket beside her.
“And it has been even longer for me.”
“Shall we take up their offer to stay here tomorrow?”
“Goldmane could use the rest,” said Roric. “And we must have lost Gizor’s pursuit by now.”
She thought that he was more concerned about his stallion than about her, but she was too tired, too glad to be back in a bed after sleeping rough with one ear always cocked for pursuit, to become irritated.
Roric put an arm around her and nuzzled her hair. “Remind me where we are going,” he said, sounding much more awake than she felt. “We have been running from Gizor and Hadros for three days. After a certain point, I either have to be going toward something, or I shall stop running and fight.”
She shifted around to face him, though the loft room was too dark to see anything; the window at the far end was no more than a rectangle of gray. “We are going to rescue Valmar, of course. We cannot let the Wanderers kill him, send him to Hel for their own purposes. With him safe, we at least have a chance to reestablish peace between you and Hadros. And you were the one who wanted to win a kingdom up there.”
He kissed her on the throat and shoulders. He really is still awake, she thought with a small sigh, sliding her arms around his neck.
“Maybe this time,” he said, lifting his lips from hers, “I shall meet the real Wanderers in their realm, and then I shall make my story something glorious.”
Karin ran a finger along his jaw, now freshly-shaved, starting to wake up again herself. “Do you want to kiss me or talk about the Wanderers?” she asked with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Because I can tell you, Roric, I do not believe in them any more.”
“I do,” he said slowly, rolling back and pulling her head onto his shoulder. “But then I was in their realm.”
“Well, I do not intend to deny their existence. After all I spoke with one twice, even if I have not been where you have gone. But I cannot believe they have any power ultimately, or that we mortals should do anything to serve them.”
“Valmar has gone to serve them from what you tell me. Why should we be so determined to save him, if he is doing exactly what he wants? Especially,” kissing her forehead, “since his being gone means no one can possibly try to persuade you to marry him.”
She shook her head, the hair sliding across his face. “No, Roric. If I return to my father’s kingdom, handfast to you and with Valmar gone forever, the war between my father and Hadros will break out again.”
“And we will win it this time,” he said agreeably. “Hadros is an old man now. For that matter so is Gizor-chasing us should finish breaking his strength. And Dag and Nole will be but little help to Hadros. I saw your father’s castle; I would be able to defend it nearly single-handed.”
“You were not there when Hadros took our castle,” Karin said quietly. “I was. Even as a little girl I understood why my father had to surrender. It was either that or starve in a few weeks anyway-after seeing our fields burned and our tenants killed.”
“This time I will bring the tenants inside the walls,” he said, still in a voice that was almost light-but not quite.
“So that is your plan?” she asked in alarm, “double back, find a way to cross the channel, fight Hadros in open battle?”
“It is you, not me, who is so concerned about seeing your father again, about behaving as a future queen should behave. Or else you can stay up in the north country with me as my queen after I win a kingdom single-handed, as Hadros seems to think I can.” She could not tell if he was merely joking or again fighting deep bitterness. “If the Wanderers prefer a king’s son to a man without a father-leaving him instead for the trolls-then I shall have to win my fortune in mortal realms.”
“You realize, Roric,” she said, pushing herself up on an elbow, “that in trying to learn who your father is, you have never asked who your mother might have been.”
She felt him shrug. “Some girl from one of the manors-probably not even a royal manor. Hadros lets his serving-maids keep their babes, but on some of the poorer manors they dread an extra mouth to feed-or even a bastard child growing up to challenge the rightful heir to the inheritance.”
“But you weren’t just any baby. The queen herself raised you as an infant. Do you think you might have been hers?”
Roric sat up abruptly at that. “The get of Hadros’s queen and-whom? Another of the Fifty Kings? One of the warriors? Gizor? He may have been a more handsome man in his youth. But no, Karin. Hadros would never have raised another man’s son as his own.”
“But you weren’t raised as his own,” she said reasonably. “Valmar is the heir. And if he is your half-brother as well as your foster-brother, then there is even more reason to rescue him.”
He flopped back down again. “If Hadros learned his wife had been gotten with child by another man, he would have killed first the baby, then her.”
“Maybe so,” she said uncertainly. “But I, the last few years, have usually been able to talk Hadros around. Perhaps his queen could do the same.”
“You have not been able to talk him around on marrying me instead of Valmar.”
Karin did not answer, thinking glumly that he was right. Roric’s father, whom he so wanted to find, was doubtless a housecarl somewhere-except that the child of a serving-maid and a housecarl would not be expected to be found with a little bone charm.
“And do not be so sure,” added Roric, “that Valmar himself would have no intention of marrying you if he came back alive. He is not like you and me, Karin. We grew up as outsiders in the only castle we considered home. For years I had nothing and no one I could trust. For the last two years I have had my stallion, and the last few months you-even if you do insist on stealing ships without consulting me,” giving her a squeeze, a smile in his voice. “But Valmar has always known that he is heir to a kingdom, and had, whenever he was hurt or frightened, the support of his big sister-you. He grew up with the knowledge that he had a high destiny waiting. Little surprise then that he should go to find adventure with the lords of voima, to seek to do something glorious to win your love, so that when he is king he will still have you beside him.”
“I never felt I could count on Valmar the way you seem to feel you can count on Goldmane,” Karin replied somewhat stiffly, “because he is just a boy. But if he needs me I have to help him. I do intend to go to the Wanderers’ realm to rescue him, and I would feel much better if you were beside me. ”
“I was going to suggest you and I go solve the Wanderers’ problems for them,” Roric said quietly, “then live on together in their realm of endless summer, but you do not seem interested.”
“In the meantime,” she said, “let us stay here through tomorrow to rest Goldmane, before we decide if we are going on or doubling back.” She stroked his forehead and began to kiss him again, wishing that they did not have to run, wishing there were other options than the ones they had, that it could be only she and Roric together.
She spent the next day helping with the chores on the manor while Roric spent much of the day asleep.
It felt surprisingly comforting to be doing again the tasks that she had always done at Hadros’s castle, cooking, milking, drawing water from the well, sweeping, weaving, churning the butter. And her work drew a compliment. “Your manor must have been well regulated, since your mother taught you so well.” The woman smiled as she spoke; she had been smiling all day.
Karin remembered that she was supposed to have had a mother until a few days before. “Yes. We were a smaller manor than this one. It’s nothing but ash and scorched timber now.” There were only a few maids and a handful of housecarls here, yet the woman and her husband seemed to farm an enormous number of acres, with flocks scattered across the distant fells.