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“What do you want?” the man asked. He pushed himself into a sitting position. As she gazed into his eyes, she could see that there was fire in his heart. She could tell that he was a warrior, although how he ended up here, she did not know.

“What is your name?” she asked.

The man turned his head away, refusing to answer. Sigrid stepped closer.

“Tell me what your name is,” she ordered, kicking out at the cage.

“What do you care? Are you here to mock me like the others? You must know my name by now.”

“I do not,” she said.

The man seemed surprised by this. “My name is Erik,” he said. “Do I have the honor of knowing your name too?”

“Sigrid,” she said.

They took the measure of each other. “You speak my language, and yet your accent is strange. Some people claim you are a warrior, but you do not wear warrior’s clothes.”

“I’m just as much a Viking as you are,” Erik said with a zeal that surprised Sigrid. “My father was born of these lands, my brother devotes his heart to the true gods, and although my mother was born in a land far from here, she is as fierce as any Viking. Put a sword in my hand, and I will prove that I am equal to any warrior here!” he cried.

Sigrid grinned, amused by his outburst. “I am not so foolish as to fool for your tricks. You will be given no weapon from me, and I think you may be surprised at the strength of our warriors.”

Erik was about to say something else when suddenly, there was a loud bluster. Ivar approached, the ground shaking under his feet, and there was a mean look on his face. Sigrid had seen that look before. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had been drinking again. He flung the door to the cell open so hard that it almost flew off the hinges, and before Sigrid or anyone else could do anything, he grabbed Erik by the head, taking a fistful of his hair into his hands, and dragged him out.