“The Wanderers know less about us than we had assumed,” said Karin. She could barely stay on her horse, but she seemed determined to talk. Valmar had wakened, after a long night in which he had dozed fitfully sitting against a tree, to find dawn breaking and Karin trying to pull her clothes back on. She had trembled so hard and her fingers were so numb that he had finally had to tie the lacings for her.
“But you said he knew your name,” said Valmar.
“And not much more. Either he was asking me questions because he was interested in how I would frame my answers, or he really did not know I love Roric.”
Valmar considered for a moment in silence. His horse picked its way carefully down the track, and in the distance ahead he could see the spires of King Kardan’s castle. His father would be furious; he hoped his big sister would volunteer to talk to him before he had to.
“But if they don’t know very much,” he said slowly, “then why do we burn offerings to them?”
Karin stared at him with eyes that had become enormous. “I shall burn no more offerings.”
“Maybe it’s better like this,” declared Valmar suddenly. “We shall ask nothing else of voima, but make our lives into the best tale that fate allows us, with our own strength and honor and our own manhood-or, in your case, womanhood.” He sat up tall and stiff in the saddle as he spoke.
“But if we decide to ignore the lords of voima,” said Karin quietly, “we cannot forget that someone has taken Roric.”
King Hadros met them as they reached the meadow that circled the castle. He stood with his massive fists on his hips, scowling, but he did not speak at once, instead taking in his flushed son and Karin, her clothes all disordered, clinging desperately to the reins as though afraid any moment she would slide from the saddle.
Valmar observed what looked like several very different comments rise to his father’s lips and fade away again. Finally he said in a low growl, “I had taught you more honor than this, son.”
Karin tried to pull herself straighter, then gave up and slid from the horse. She winced as her bare feet touched the ground; they had been too swollen for her slippers. Valmar immediately dismounted in case she needed support, but she remained standing. “Your son behaved himself in perfect honor,” she said slowly, staring straight at the king. “He helped me and assisted me. Everything I asked he performed.”
And then, completely unexpectedly, Hadros smiled. “Well, you have changed your opinions quickly enough, little princess,” he said gruffly, but he sounded almost pleased. He gave Valmar a slap on the back that staggered him. “It is not what I would have recommended, but it may be for the best…”
Valmar, shocked, tried to deny what his father seemed to have assumed and found himself only sputtering. He stole a glance at Karin. There was the slightest amused twitch at the corner of her mouth.
“I told your father that after a tiring day of riding and exploring with Valmar you were spending the night in my tents,” said Hadros to Karin. “He seemed disturbed that you were not in the castle at the end of the day’s Gemot-nearly as disturbed as I was to find my son missing! But it seemed best not to reopen the war at the All-Gemot.” He smiled a little. “Shall I speak to him today of your portion?”
“No,” said Karin, weakly but determinedly, her eyes cast down. “Not today. Not until I tell you. Valmar is, after all, not yet of age.”
“He has my permission, of course,” said Hadros slowly. “Did you hope to hide from your father this shame until you are well wed?”
“I hope to hide this from everybody,” she said on the brink of tears. But then she pulled herself together with a visible effort, took the reins of both horses, and walked up toward the castle, leaving Hadros and his son looking after her.
Then the king turned, striding toward the corded circle where the Fifty Kings were gathering for the day’s decisions, taking Valmar with him.
He was still trying to work out why his father, whom he had expected to be livid at the shame of his having ridden off with Karin and not come back all night, instead seemed delighted at the thought of what might have taken place. Karin had misled Hadros deliberately, as though she had suddenly decided she wanted to marry Valmar. If he could see his big sister again before the All-Gemot finished, maybe she would let him know what she really intended.
In the meantime he remained silent as they walked, wishing himself invisible, but it still seemed, inexplicably, as though his father was pleased with him.