“What? So young?”
“Lars exaggerates,” Ivar spoke up. “But the training starts young.”
Lars shrugged at my shock. “We were born to it. It’s all we’ve ever known.”
“Are there many in training now?”
“None,” Ivar said. “Lars is one of the youngest.”
“The youngest but the best,” Lars boasted. “Ivar and I are both captains. We form the king’s honor guard, along with two others.”
“Honor guard? Because you have so much honor?” I teased.
“Aye,” Lars grinned and gulped more wine. “We do, lady. And we are better warriors.”
“And so modest.” I crossed to refill his cup and set the pitcher on a low table between us, seating myself and motioning for him to do the same. When he did, I bit my cheek against laughing. His great size dwarfed the low couch. And he wasn’t the largest warrior I’d met in
