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"I'm curious now. I want to read!" The book was handed to Svengal, who took it eagerly.

THE HEAT IN RAGNAK'S DINING HALL WAS INTENSE. THE LARGE number of people present, and the huge, open fire that stretched almost the full width of one end of the room, combined to keep the temperature uncomfortably warm, in spite of the deep snow that lay on the ground outside.

"Oh, joy, we're back here," Will said dully. Cassandra grimaced.

It was an enormous room, long and low-ceilinged, with two tables stretching the length of it, and a third, Ragnak's head table, placed across the others at the end opposite the fire. The walls were bare pine logs, roughly trimmed and caulked, where their uneven shape left a gap, with a mixture of mud and clay that set hard as rock. More pine logs slanted up at angles to support the roof, a tightly woven layer of rushes and thatch that was almost a meter thick in places. There was no interior lining. Lighter slats of rough timber were fastened across the roof beams to support the thatch. The noise, with nearly one hundred and fifty drunken Skandians eating, laughing and shouting at one another, was deafening. Erak looked around him and smiled.

It was good to be home again.

Erak nodded. "Better than being with that fool of a Skandian," he said. Svengal chuckled.

He accepted another tankard of ale from Borsa, Ragnak's hilfmann. Will scowled. While Ragnak was the Oberjarl, or senior Jarl of all Skandians, the hilfmann was an administrator who took care of the day-to-day running of the nation. He made sure that crops were planted, taxes paid, raids sent out on time and that Ragnak's share of all raiding booty—a quarter of everything won—was paid promptly and reckoned fairly by the wolfship commanders.

Will muttered something under his breath. Alyss didn't bother berating him; she sensed the words were well-deserved.

"Bad business all around, Erak," he said. They were discussing the ill-fated expedition to Araluen. "We should never get involved in a long-running war. It's not our game at all. We're cut out for quick raids. Get in, grab the booty and get out again with the tide. That's our way. Always has been."

"I'd prefer it that way, too," Duncan said mildly. Erak grinned.

Erak nodded. He'd thought the same thing when Ragnak had assigned him to the expedition. But the Oberjarl hadn't been in any mood to listen to his advice.

"Like he ever was," Erak snorted.

"Still, Morgarath paid us up front," the hilfmann continued. Erak's eyebrows raised at that.

"He did?" It was the first he'd heard of it. He'd assumed that he and his men were fighting simply for whatever booty they could find, and the expedition had been a definite failure in that regard. But his companion nodded emphatically.

"Well, he's a bit dead at the moment," Horace said lightly. The Araluens smirked.

"Oh yes indeed. Ragnak's no fool when it comes to money. He charged Morgarath for your services, and those of all your men. You'll all be paid your share."

At least, thought Erak, he and his men would have something to show for the past few months. But Borsa was still shaking his head over the Araluen campaign.

"Of course he was," Will said, a sour look on his face.

"You know our biggest problem?" he said, and before Erak could respond, he continued. "We don't have our own generals or tacticians. Skandians fight as individuals. And in that sense, we're the best in the world. But when we hire out as mercenaries, we don't have our own planners to lead us. So we're forced to rely on fools like Morgarath."

Halt smirked. "That's why you need to learn a little bit more." Erak rolled his eyes.

Erak nodded agreement. "When we were in Araluen, I said that his plans were too involved, too clever by half."

Borsa jabbed a thick forefinger at him. Erak was surprised by the man's vehemence. "And you're right! We could use a few people like those Araluen Rangers," he added. The four Rangers exchanged grins.

"Are you serious?" Erak said. "Why do we need them?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Halt. "Maybe so your country doesn't get run over by wild horsemen."

"Not them literally. I mean people like them. People who are trained in planning and tactics —with the ability to see the big picture and use our troops to best effect." Halt raised an eyebrow.

Erak had to agree the other man had a point. But the mention of Rangers had led his mind to the matter of Will and Evanlyn. Now he saw a way to solve the problem of dealing with them.

Halt's expression darkened slightly. Will's gaze slid to the ground, while Cassandra leaned closer to Horace.

"Could you use a couple of new slaves around the Great Hall?" he asked casually. Borsa nodded immediately.

"We can always use extras," he said. "Got someone in mind, have you?"

Erak very obviously was looking anywhere except in Halt's direction.

"A boy and a girl," Erak told him. He thought it best not to mention that Will was an apprentice Ranger. At least he has a brain, Halt thought grudgingly. "Both strong. Healthy and intelligent. We captured them on the Celtic border. I was going to sell them so I could pay my crew something for the whole mess. But now, if you say we'll be paid anyway, I'd be happy to give them to you."

Borsa nodded gratefully. "I can certainly use them," he replied. "Send them over tomorrow." Will pursed his lips.

"Done!" said Erak cheerfully. He felt a nagging weight had been removed from his mind. "Now where's that ale jug got to?" Halt raised an eyebrow.

While Erak was deciding their fate, Will and Evanlyn had been kept locked in a hut by the quayside, close to the point where Wolfwind was moored. The following morning, they were roused by a Skandian from Borsa's staff, who led them to the Great Hall. There, the hilfmann looked them over, studying them critically. The girl was attractive, he thought, but she didn't look as if she'd done a lot of heavy work in her life. The boy, on the other hand, was well muscled and fit, if a little on the small side.

"The girl can go to the dining hall and kitchen," he told his assistant. "Put the boy in the yard."

Halt's lip curled in a sneer. Gilan's hand gripped the pommel of his saxe knife, and a dangerous light was in his eyes. Svengal cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to ease the tension.

"I believe we said we'd take a break?" Alyss asked. The others nodded, and she quickly stood and followed her boyfriend as he strode out the door without a word.

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