The Golden Shrine

“He has the whole Empire,” Hamnet Thyssen said. “We have one wizard from Raumsdalia, a few shamans, and some Bizogots.” One of the shamans was Marcovefa, but he didn’t mention that. He went on, “What are we supposed to be able to do that Sigvat can’t? Why are we supposed to be able to do it?”

“You are supposed to be able to beat the Rulers, Your Grace,” Gu

Count Hamnet had heard that before. He’d heard it often enough by now that he had to believe it—which was not to say it made any sense to him. “Even the Rulers can be stupid sometimes,” he growled.

“And so can Sigvat, God knows,” Ulric Skakki added. “We have our worries, and he has his. Some of them are the same—some, yes, but not all.”

“You want to beat the Rulers, too, don’t you?” Gu

Trasamund answered that before either Hamnet or Ulric could: “No! We aim to boot them off the Bizogot plain! We aim to beat them back beyond the Gap! We aim to kill them all, if we can! You can tell your precious Sigvat that. You can tell him he cursed well should have listened to Count Hamnet here, too. In fact, you’d better tell him that—you hear me, Kvaran?”

“I hear you, Your Ferocity,” Gu

“Sigvat has heard me, too, by God,” Trasamund said. “If not for me, Count Hamnet and Ulric never would have fared north. They never would have gone beyond the Gap. They never would have seen the marvels on the far side.”

“We never would have bumped into the Rulers, either,” Ulric said. “We have a lot to blame you for, Trasamund.”

Trasamund bared his teeth in what might have been a friendly smile or might have been something else altogether. Gu

Gu

“Not right this minute, you bloody idiot!” Ulric burst out. “Stay a while. Rest. Eat some more. Let your horse rest, too. You still have to make it back across the plains before you even try sneaking through to Nidaros.”

That was such obvious good sense, not even Gu

He was gnawing on a roasted duck leg when he saw Tahpenes and recognized her for what she was. He almost dropped the leg in his lap. “What’s she doing here?” he demanded.

“The laundry, a little cooking . . . she sweeps the floors of our huts, too,” Ulric answered. “If you want your horse curried, I daresay she could attend to that.”

Gu

“Thank you,” Ulric replied, which left the messenger without much of a reply. The adventurer often had that effect on people, as Count Hamnet had found to his own discomfiture.

Tahpenes also eyed Gu

One thing she didn’t seem to realize was that her captors wanted her to get away. They couldn’t make that obvious without making her wonder why. One day soon, though, she probably would contrive to escape. Count Hamnet hoped so, anyhow. Then everyone here could relax.

Hamnet spoke to Trasamund about that. The jarl heard him out, then gri

They feted Gu

Gu

Almost all of them turned out to say farewell to Gu

“He’s getting a fancy sendoff for a reason, too,” Hamnet replied. “If we’re all here telling him what a fine fellow he is—”

“Yes, I know,” Ulric broke in. “If we’re all making much of Kvaran, we’ve got an excuse for not paying attention to Tahpenes. Now we see if she’s smart enough to figure that out, too.”

Gu

When he went to look for Tahpenes after the farewells, she was nowhere to be found. He went and told Trasamund. The jarl told the Bizogots. The mammoth-herders made a great show of beating the bushes for their escaped captive. Everyone was so disappointed when they didn’t catch her.

“MAY I TALK to you, Your Grace?” Audun Gilli asked.

“You’re doing it,” Count Hamnet answered gruffly. “Go ahead.”

“Er—right.” The wizard was hangdog and slapdash at the best of times. Since Liv had gone to him from Hamnet Thyssen, this wasn’t the best of times. But he forged ahead: “I don’t want you to be my enemy.”

“I’m not,” Hamnet said, which was . . . partly true, anyhow. He went on, “If you expect me to be your friend, you ask for too much, though.”

“I suppose so,” Audun said. “But I would like to be able to put my head together with yours without worry about its getting bitten off.”

“Would you?” Hamnet Thyssen said. Audun Gilli gave back an eager nod. Hamnet shrugged. “People want all kinds of things they aren’t likely to get.”

“Do you, uh, still want Liv back?” the Raumsdalian wizard asked.

That question was more interesting than Hamnet wished it were. He was contented enough with Marcovefa. She had her quirks, but she was bound to think he had quirks of his own. And even if he was contented with her, that didn’t mean he didn’t want Liv back. It didn’t mean he didn’t want Gudrid back, either, and she was hundreds of miles away, married to Eyvind Torfi

He knew his answer was evasive: “If she doesn’t want me back—and she doesn’t—what difference does it make?”