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expression as he looked over her male apparel did not bode well for his changing his mind about where she would stay until he returned. Selig was a very handsome man, but when he scowled he was frightening, except to her, who knew him so well.
    “I have been a sore trial to you, Selig, but—”
    “Not a word, Kristen.” Impatiently he cut her short. “I can see you are still of a mind to do what you want and not what I tell you, but not this time. You will get yourself into the cargo well and stay there until I return.”
    “But—”
    “Do it, Kristen!”
    “Oh, very well.” She sighed, then gave him a half smile, for she couldn’t say good-bye to him with harsh words. “May the gods bring you luck—for whatever it is you are going to do.”
    He almost laughed, but grinned instead. “That—from you, Christian?”
    “Well, I know my god will watch over you without the asking, but I also know you would welcome all the help you can get from Father’s gods as well.”
    “Then spend your time praying for me, Kris.”
    His eyes softened just before he hugged her to him. But then he nodded toward the cargo well, and Kristen dropped her shoulders in defeat and went.

    She did not stay there for long, however. No sooner was the last man over the side and heading for the river-bank than she pulled herself out of the well, gaining a grin from Bjorn, one of the men left behind with the ship, and a scowl from the other guard. But neither of them barked at her to get below, so she was able to watch the crew make their way inland toward a thick forest that blocked the rest of the land from view.
    She paced about in her frustration to be stuck here where there would be no action at all. It was only midday and a hot sun beat down on them, hotter than any she had ever known in Norway. How long would the men be gone? God’s teeth, it could be days for all she knew.
    “Thor!”
    Kristen swung around to see the last of the crew entering the dark forest. And then she heard what the man beside her had heard: the clanging of swords and the cries of men engaged in battle.
    “They must be a mighty force if they can attack instead of turning tail to run. Get below, Kristen!”
    Bjorn shouted this even as he jumped over the side of the ship. Kristen obeyed, but only to collect her sword. When she pulled herself back out of the well, she saw that both of the men who had been left behind were now running toward the forest to help their friends. She did not hesitate to join them, for as Bjorn had said, only a mighty force would attack so many armed Vikings, and she reasoned they would need even her help, little as it might be.
    She caught up with the two men just as they reached the forest and charged into it with bloodcurdling yells. She did not follow directly. There was nothing around her but fallen bodies. Oh, God, she had not thought it would be like this. She saw her cousin Olaf lying at anodd angle…there was so much blood. Selig! Where was Selig?
    She forced her gaze away from the ground littered with dead men to look ahead of her, where the fighting was still going on. She took note of the attackers now, and could not believe that these small, wiry men had done so much damage, for there were not so many that she could see—and, she realized, they were not all small, either. There was one even a few inches taller than she, and he was fighting—Selig! And God in heaven, he was not the only one wielding a sword against her brother.
    She started forward to help him, but was set upon by a little man with a fierce cry who blocked her way. Instead of facing a sword, she was attacked with a long spear that she quickly cut in two, and the moment she raised her sword against the man, he fled.
    Having lost direction, she swung frantically about, searching for Selig again, and then screamed, for just as her eyes found him, he was falling, and the tall one he had been fighting pulled back a bloody sword. She went wild, racing toward him,