Beyong the Gap

from her.

The food and drink suited Hamnet Thyssen well enough. The barmaid didn't interest him. He did idly wonder what Gudrid would think of Trasamund's pursuing another woman so soon after leaving her arms. He shrugged. Chasing a barmaid wouldn't worry him unless the Bizogot got killed in a brawl over her (which seemed unlikely) or came down with an unpleasant disease because of her (the odds of which Hamnet had no way of guessing).

Eyvind Torfinn seemed content with supper, even if it was rougher than what he was used to. Audun Gilli ate more than he drank. To Count Ham-net, that made the meal a success as far as the wizard was concerned.

Hamnet shared a room with Audun. The evening was not a success. The sorcerer, though a small man, proved to own a large snore. Hamnet wondered if there was some sorcerous cure for that. Then he wondered if he ought to throw a boot at Audun, the way he might have at a yowling cat.

Ulric Skakki and Eyvind Torfinn had the room to one side of Hamnet s. The walls were no thicker than they had to be—Hamnet could hear the other two men talking for a long time. He wondered what they were talking about. Gudrid? As far as Hamnet Thyssen knew, she hadn't slept with Ulric. But he didn't know how far he knew.

On the other side, Trasamund had a room to himself. Except he didn't have it to himself for long. The bedframe creaked. He grunted. His companion giggled and then moaned. Hamnet found himself glad of Audun Gilli s snores. They helped drown out the amatory racket. Not long after the creaking next door reached a crescendo, it began anew. The Bizogot had stamina. By the noises his partner made, he also had technique.

How much of that technique had he had before he came south off the frozen steppe? How much had he learned inside the Empire—or, to come straight to the point, inside Gudrid? Count Hamnet ground his teeth. What he had right now was insomnia. He also had the firm conviction that God would have had trouble falling asleep in that room just then.

Eventually, in spite of everything, Hamnet did go to sleep. What that said about God's chances of doing the same ... he was too unconscious to worry about.

A sunbeam sneaking through the slats of the shutter on the south-facing window poked him in the eye. He yawned and sat up. Audun Gilli went on snoring away. Either Eyvind Torfinn or Ulric Skakki also owned a pretty formidable snore. As for Trasamund, he really did have stamina. That barmaid would probably walk bowlegged for days.

Yawning again, Hamnet got out of bed. He'd slept in his clothes, as one did on the road. Instead of throwing his boots at Audun Gilli, he put them on. He did take the small pleasure of shaking the wizard awake. 'You snore,' he said when he saw reason in Audun's eyes.

'I do?' the wizard said around a yawn of his own. Hamnet Thyssen nodded emphatically. Audun Gilli started pulling on his own boots. 'Well, your Grace, if I do, I'm not the only one here who does.'

'What? Me?' Count Hamnet didn't believe it—or didn't want to believe it, anyhow. He stood on what dignity he could. 'I've never once heard myself snore.'

Audun Gilli started to answer that, then seemed to think better of it. He contented himself with, 'Shall we get the others up?'

'Trasamund’s been up most of the night,' Hamnet answered, which made Audun begin and then visibly reconsider another answer. Hamnet added, 'But we may as well knock. That barmaid will have to go to work soon anyhow, though I daresay Trasamund’s worked her harder than the fellow who runs this serai ever did. Here's hoping she had fun.'

'They don't stay till morning if they haven't.' The wizard spoke more practically than Hamnet Thyssen would have expected.

Hamnet knocked on the door to the room that Eyvind Torfinn and Ulric Skakki shared. He knocked loud and long, hoping Trasamund and his lady friend would also hear. That actually worked; the barmaid scurried out of the Bizogot's chamber and down the hall toward the common room. But when Ulric opened the door, he looked more than a little put upon. 'What?' he said irritably. 'Is this place on fire?' Earl Eyvind appeared behind him, seeming similarly aggrieved.

'No fire—except, I hope, in the hearth,' Hamnet said. 'Which of you snores?'

'He does.' Ulric and Eyvind both said the same thing. They pointed at each other. Eyvind Torfinn added, 'As long as we're talking about snoring, was that you or Audun sawing stone last night?'

'Yes.' Hamnet let him make whatever he pleased of that. 'I'm going to get Trasamund moving,' he went on. 'Then we ought to eat and we ought to ride.'

Earl Eyvind rubbed his hindquarters. Ulric Skakki sighed a martyred sigh. But neither man said no. Hamnet Thyssen knocked on Trasamund's door. 'You hit ours a lot harder than that,' Ulric said. Yes, and I had my reasons, too, Hamnet thought. Ulric went on scowling.

Trasamund was also scowling as he opened up. But when Count Ham-net said, 'We should be moving,' the Bizogot's glower faded. Moving was something the mammoth-herders of the north understood.

They all went off to the common room. Hamnet Thyssen was ready for oatmeal mush swimming with butter or rye crackers or barley rolls or boiled goose eggs or whatever else the seraikeeper served for breakfast.

The barmaid was already busy, hurrying from the kitchen to other travelers waiting for their food. Count Hamnet noticed her only out of the corner of his eye. He stopped in his tracks at the entrance to the common room. None of his companions tried to push past him into the big hall, either.

From her perch on a bench near a fireplace, Gudrid waved gaily to them.

She hadn't come alone. Half a dozen stalwart imperial guardsmen sat across from her and to either side. Hamnet wondered how she’d talked Sigvat II out of them. Then he decided he didn't want to know, because talking might not have had anything to do with it. A heartbeat later, he shied away from hadn't come alone, too.

'My sweet! What are you doing here?' Eyvind Torfinn asked—a reasonable question, and much more mildly phrased than it would have been coming from Hamnet. Still sounding reasonable, and reasonably concerned, Earl Eyvind went on, 'Is anything wrong down in Nidaros?'

'No, no, no.' Gudrid laughed one of her silvery laughs. And then Count Hamnet discovered that he'd thanked God too soon, for she said, 'I decided I'd come along with you, that's all.'

Hamnet stiffened, as if taking a sword thrust. Eyvind's jaw dropped. Even the unflappable Ulric Skakki blinked. Audun Gilli's eyes widened. And Trasamund roared laughter himself.

'That's . .. impossible,' Eyvind Torfinn said. Again, Hamnet would have told Gudrid the same thing. Again, he would have used stronger language. Earl Eyvind continued, 'You couldn't possibly make it to the land beyond the Glacier.'

'Why not?' When Gudrid sounded innocent and sweet, you were well advised to set a hand on your belt pouch.

'Because you're a woman, that's why not,' Eyvind answered.

'And so?' Gudrid said. 'If I can't ride better than Audun there, I'm a musk ox. And I can shoot— dear Hamnet taught me how years ago. I don't pull a very heavy bow, but I hit what I aim at.'

She did, too. Hamnet Thyssen knew it. Trasamund looked from him to Gudrid and back again in surprise. No, the Bizogot jarl hadn't known of any connection between them. Hamnet hadn't thought he did.

'And besides,' Gudrid went on, still sounding sweet and innocent and, if you knew her, deadly dangerous, 'I'll have all you big strong masterful men to protect me, won't I? And these guardsmen his Majesty was kind enough to give me, too.'

Some of the guardsmen looked mildly embarrassed. Others smirked. How had Gudrid persuaded the Emperor? And why were those men smirking?

'This is most unwise. It will not do,' Eyvind Torfinn said.

'I agree. This journey will be complicated enough without, uh, complications.' Ulric Skakki didn't put that well, and knew it, but also didn't leave much doubt about what he meant.

'Madness,' Hamnet said.

Gudrid fluttered her fingers, literally dismissing that out of hand. 'As if you'd say anything else,' she murmured. Then she fluttered those slim fingers again, this time toward Trasamund. 'And what does our valiant Bizogot chieftain say?'