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I sat for athe conversations flow across ue Arne told er port towns In the villages along the fjords aa word not spoken in the old speech

Across the roo a few notes over the crowd I wiped pork fat fro ave her the Jalan smile, the one the hero of Aral Pass offers to the masses The e, a slightly built felloith a drooping moustache and twitchy eye Still, any peasant can stick a knife in you, so I curbed e over there and introduce oods on show and let the bees come to the honey

“Do you know ‘The Red March’?” I called across to the mandolin player Most bards do, and he looked well travelled in any case

By way of answer, fingers flickered across strings and the first few bars rolled out I stood, bowed to the various ladies, and crossed to the fireplace “Prince Jalan of Red March at your service one and all A guest to your shores and pleased to be here ast such fierce warriors and fair maids” I nodded to ot a decent baritone and the princes of Red March are trained in all the arts: We declai Mostly we’re trained in the arts of war, but wordcraft and painting are not neglected Add to this that “The Red March” is a rousing er’s weaknesses and encourages others to join in and you have the ideal icebreaker Even the frozen seas of the North couldn’t withstand ave full voice with the troubadour filling in the gaps with his own mellow tones

I’ll say this for Norse Before I’d finished eitherout “The Red March,” ignorance of the words proving no obstacle Better still, my delicious blonde had detached herself fro her approach to have been blessed in all the right places by the gods of Asgard The pretty pale waif had also ditched her father to keep me company on the other side

“So you’re a prince?” As the din of the last verse subsided The blond beauty, more attractive by the moment, leaned in “I’m Astrid”

“I’ like milk, very fine-featured “Who was that warrior with you? You know, the big one”

I did my best to keep the irritation from my face “You don’t want to worry about him, Edda He’s tall, yes, but women report that he’s very unsatisfactory in the furs Used all his growing getting too high off the ground and didn’t save enough for the is It’s a sad story His mother and fatherwell, brother and sister—”

“No?” Her lips made a circle

“Yes” I shook oes with those sorts of children They never grow up properly I do my best to look out for him”

“So generous of you,” Astrid purred, steering my attention away from sweet Edda

“My dear lady, it’s the moral duty of nobility to—”