They left the following morning, when it was yet dark and the morning"s chill clouded their breaths. The parting was as chilly as the air, with Thorgil and his spear-warriors watching in silence as Hakon and his men gathered in the courtyard, bleary-eyed from a night of uncertainty. His men had not attended the feast, nor had they slept. Rather, they rested in the guest hall, armed and ready for an attack they all felt was imminent. But for whatever reason, Thorgil never came. Mayhap the ale from his father"s burial feast had gotten the better of him, or mayhap he relished just knowing he had Hakon and his men within his grasp, like some cruel cat toying with a mouse.
Hakon shifted his gaze to Groa, who sat on the seat of an ornate oxcart with a heavyset female attendant beside her, holdi
