Varg felt a stab of anger at that, but it shifted into humour. “That I cannot argue with,” he smiled. “My helm is loose. I need to tighten the strap, add another hole for the buckle.” “Ah, well, now I know what to carve on the rune-stone of your barrow when we bury your cold corpse,” Røkia replied. “This man died from a hole in his head, because he did not have the time to tighten his helm-strap.”
