“Mark 11:25 Wilda couldn’t breathe for fear as they waited. Yet there was no sound of fighting, of a sword drawn, no screams or cries, only a dread silence that was worse. When Sigdir came out of the pig barn his face was turned in, a hint of sadness behind the hate, but his hands were free of blood, and Wilda could breathe again. Sigdir stamped into the longhouse and all scurried out of his way, warriors, karls and thralls alike. Only Wilda couldn’t move, had to stay there and stand to him, bra...zen and afraid. Afraid too of what would happen if she didn’t. It was all she could do for Einar, and it was nothing. Sigdir eyed her, his brow darkening as she stood and faced him when all others hunched out of his way. He waved a hand, barked an order at her, but she didn’t move. At Sigdir’s impatient signal, Rowena crept out from where she hid by the byre door. “He asks what it is that you want, why you stand there defiant before him like a lady of the house already.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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