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knee-length gowns were edged with miniver. Many wore cone-shaped, felt, beaver-trimmed hats, and boots that were decorated with intricate patterning.
    These wealthily clothed men moved around the harbour with confidence and purpose, pointing here and there at barrels and sacks with their silver-topped riding whips, selecting this and that to be transported away on various large wagons. Horses with extravagant flashing silver decorations on their bridles restlessly pawed at the earth and shook their manes. Carts with brightly coloured swirling patterns painted on their sides rattled through the hubbub.
    No, the people of Denmark did not appear poor. Surely they would find a welcome at her uncle’s house? Thea’s cousin, King Sweyn, had no love for the Norman king of England. Nonetheless, they all were wary ever since Gunor had said to Padar it was likely that King Sweyn of Denmark had an eye on a slice of England’s wealth for himself and Padar had agreed. The king was not to be trusted. Grandmother warned, ‘Godwin, trust him not. He is one of the locust princes.’
    Padar remarked, with a smile twitching his mouth, ‘Remember this, when passing a door-post, watch as you walk on, inspect as you enter. It is uncertain where enemies lurk or crouch in a dark corner. It is just the same with kings as with the common man, my ladies.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ remarked Countess Gytha. ‘Think ahead.’
    â€˜Look ahead, the palace lies over there.’ Edmund pointed towards a shallow hill to where large gabled building dominated the town. He shook out his hair, ran his fingers through it, tied it neatly back again with a leather thong and turned to Gytha. ‘A royal palace indeed, though the king, of course, might be at Roskilde. If so we can send messengers ahead to announce our return.’
    Despite her mistrust of the ‘locusts’, as she called princes who had an eye on England’s wealth, Grandmother Gytha’s eyes filled with tears. This was her first home, the place of her birth. She was prepared to be sentimental today, an emotion which was rare. ‘Sweyn was a child in shifts, last time I saw him. Now he has fifty or maybe more years.’
    Feeling great affection for her grandmother, Thea took her arm and whispered, ‘Tonight we shall sleep under goose-feathered quilts.’ It would be welcome after long days sailing over the rolling seas into the northern lands.
    Gytha replied, ‘By the looks of it everyone is well off enough to have a dozen goose quilts.’ Then she grunted, ‘Well, they were ever pirates!’
    Thea started at the clatter of horses’ hoofs and the sound of their jingling bells. Sensing a growing excitement, she looked beyond the wharf to where a band of riders was trotting along a dirt road that swept towards them carving its way through raised walkways fronting the harbour buildings. Merchants, sailors, and slaves with collars about their necks scattered as the newcomers came trotting along the quayside. The riders rode swiftly onto the stone quay, calling to Godwin and Edmund. Godwin raised his hand in greeting.
    The horses swaggered towards them, followed by a long wagon drawn by two magnificent high-prancing white ponies. It was painted white and decorated with a row of tall golden crowns. Gorgeously patterned pennants fluttered from each side as it rolled down along the quay on smooth, well-oiled wheels. A dwarf held the horses’ reins and despite his low stature appeared completely in control of its movement.
    Godwin and Edmund stepped protectively in front of the women as a stout, thickly bearded man, garbed in a richly fur-trimmed cloak, swung down from his mount. His grey-and-white-streaked hair fell thickly to his shoulders under his tall jewel-studded crimson velvet crowned hat. His companion, tall, fully armed, wearing a leather tunic under his short mantle, leapt off his mount to stand behind the older man, his