Sigurd did not know how he would live without his Varda. All his strength and bravery came from her. Surely she was more a man than he was, she always knew what to do and it was she who made all the decisions. Yes, he was a knight and he could fight but he knew that if she were a man she would beat him and every other man he had met. No he really did not know how to be without her. It had been she who had decided they would flee with the king… she was fiercely loyal to the man and would not be left behind. And so they had fled with the rest. Varda had been with child at the time but she had not told anyone but he and had said it would not matter. But she had lost the baby on the long voyage and he had fallen into despair. He wondered at Varda, she would not show her grief to him but he had caught her sometimes looking out over the sea with such an expression it almost tore his heart in two. But she had never said anything nor shed a tear.

Varda knew that the man she had married was weak and she did not love him. But there were times when she felt a great tenderness for him, like that a mother feels for her vulnerable son. She did not regret accompanying her king to Mhalwae even though she had lost her baby. There would be more and she did not think she could live anywhere but with him, whom she held in great respect. He was a true man and she wished she were too so she could fight for him. She knew he needed loyal subjects and she was one of the most though Eallair did not know it. She would have followed her king wherever he went, even to the end of the earth.

And now as she stood next to Sigurd with the wind whipping her long black hair, she felt her husband cringing next to her but she did not turn her gaze from the dark island that lay before them.