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“I might not be the best oarsman around, for I have spent my life on land,” Erik said after a time.

“Another reason why I think you have lost the Viking way,” she said.

Erik bristled at this. “I have no doubt I could beat you in a sword fight.”

Sigrid barked a laugh at this. “You are like every other man, so arrogant to think that you can win every battle.”

“It’s not arrogance when you have the skill to back it up. And do you really think you could beat anyone with that toy?” he asked, nodding toward her wooden sword. Sigrid grew defensive at the insult to her weapon, for it was a part of her. She clenched her jaw and glared at him.

“Speed and surprise attacks matter, not strength, and the talent of the warrior is more important than the weapon wielded,” she said.

Erik nodded and didn’t say anything in reply.

They rowed until their muscles ached. Occasionally they came across a current and allowed it to carry them, which helped them recover their strength. Sigrid was impressed with Erik’s strength and stamina. He had been through a great beating from Ivar, yet he was still able to row well, despite the fact that she had teased him about his skills. Secretly she admired him, not that she would ever admit that to him, nor would she admit that if she were ever interested in having a husband, he would be the kind of man she would want.

After rowing for a good long while, they guided the boat back to the shore. By now, night was beginning to set in, and the stars were just beginning to appear. The air was growing cooler as they pulled the boat onto the beach and let it rest there, the sea lapping at it. They were both tired and decided to rest for a while before pressing on to the Ovesson clan. They found a small cave for shelter and settled down for the night.

“You will not flee, will you?” Sigrid asked before she went to sleep.

“I gave you my word,” he replied. “Besides, if I did flee, I’d have no idea where I’m going, and I’m still wounded. I am not stupid to think I can row all the way back home in that boat.”

Sigrid chose to believe him, and as she went to sleep, she found herself wondering what his home was truly like. The way he spoke, there was nothing of slavery or betrayal or suspicion. There was no cruelty or violence, and she wished she had grown up in a place like this. It made her wonder what kind of person she would have been if her parents hadn’t been murdered. Perhaps she would have been more like Kari, softer and gentler, and perhaps she would have even been amenable to the idea of marriage. As it was, she was a hard girl, one that was bitter and resentful of life, and she thought the only good thing she could do was rid the world of Ivar.