‘Where are you off to, Lara?’
‘For a walk.’
‘Alone?’
‘As you see.’
‘I looked for you on the promontory earlier.’
‘Did you?’
‘There are things we need to discuss.’
‘Such as?’
He sighed. Clearly she had no wish to talk to him at all although in the light of recent events he couldn’t entirely blame her. All the same this could not be avoided. She had just become part of the arrangements.
‘Tomorrow I leave for Ravndal.’
He had her attention now. ‘But that is several days’ sailing from here.’
‘That’s right.’
He didn’t miss the glimmer of hope that flickered into her face. The thought of his departure was pleasing to her. If she was anticipating his protracted absence she was doomed to disappointment.
‘My continued presence here is unwise,’ he went on. ‘Steingrim won’t be far behind and when I meet him it will be on ground of my choosing.’
She could see the point. ‘What about the other ships, though?’
‘Alrik’s will accompany us. The second will meet us a little later.’
‘I see.’
‘We’ll be leaving early.’
She nodded, controlling a sudden surge of jubilation. He was leaving tomorrow. He would be gone for days; weeks with any luck. Perhaps the gods were redressing the balance a little.
‘Was there anything else, my lord?’
‘No, nothing else—for the moment.’
‘Then I beg you will excuse me.’ She would have continued on up the path but his voice stayed her.
‘Lara.’
She paused, surveying him quizzically. ‘My lord?’
‘My name is Finn. It would please me if you were to use it.’
‘As you wish.’
‘You know, it seems to me that life would be easier if we were not at odds.’
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