Karin was still smiling, this time at him rather than at her thoughts, as though pleased with him. Valmar remembered what else Roric had said, that he should take care of Karin if he himself married her, but decided this could not have been part of the message.

“Did he say anything else?” she asked.

“That was all his message-no, he also said to tell you that he had at last found a place for a man without a family.”

“Did he seem-happy to go?”

Valmar hesitated. “Not happy. But also not entirely grim. It was almost like-this may not make sense-like a fierce joy.” He fell silent a moment, remembering his own wild yearning, the ache akin to homesickness for something he had never seen, which had sent him galloping fruitlessly after them. “But, Karin! I can’t believe it really was a Wanderer. And why would he want to leave home anyway?”

“He has chosen honor over love,” said Karin, staring fixedly out the window. Every now and then, distant voices from the Gemot reached them.

Valmar sat thinking that any warrior should make that choice, but neither of them spoke for a moment.

“Are the Fifty Kings well occupied?” she asked suddenly, her hand closing on his arm.

“Yes, I think so. Your father read a list of all the cases they had to hear today, and they hadn’t gotten very far down it when I left-and then several people raised additional issues.”

“Good. Then no one will miss us. There used to be a Mirror-seer living at the lake just a short way up the valley.”

They took horses from the royal stables to ride south, up along the river. Karin had hurried straight from the hall to the stables and been polite only with a visible effort when the chief ostler had welcomed her and then carefully selected the finest and most suitable horses for the princess and her companion. She settled herself on a sidesaddle, which Valmar had never seen anyone use before, as they rode away from the castle.