Do I even want to be chief of the Battle-Grim? Elvar thought. Once the answer would have been yes, without hesitation. It would give me what I’ve wanted all my life. Recognition and battle-fame carved by my own hand rather than offered it by my silver-rich jarl of a father. But do I still want that now, after I have sworn the blóð svarið, and am committed to rescuing Uspa’s son? To be chief of the Battle-Grim. She rolled the title around her head, tasting it like sweet mead in the mouth. To be their gold-giver, their ring-giver. To put food in their bellies and silver on their arms. But if I
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