Chapter 11: The Hold in Ice

They came up through the standing stones above Skarnholt as the sun went down.

The gold chain stretched between her wrist and his, and she did not have time to feel the cold.

The hold lay below them, white and still.

Every roof wore a coat of ice, and the windows were frosted shut.

"Hrodmar did this," Ingrith whispered.

"His men did. His winter followed them in."

"My mother?"

"She is on the road with Hrodmar. He will bring her to us."

He took her elbow.

"Tonight I have one night above ground. Tonight we take the hold."

They walked down the hill together.

The gate guards wore white fur and carried spears with black iron tips.

They saw Kaelor and tried to shout.

Not a sound came out.

Their spears turned to frost in their hands, and they stood in the snow with their mouths open.

The great doors swung wide on their own.

Ingrith walked into her father's hall.

The household of Skarnholt was huddled against the walls, thin and cold, with the cooks in front.

A dozen Frostland soldiers lined the room.

At the far end, in the lord's carved chair, sat Sigrun.

She wore a mantle of white fox.

A ring of keys lay in her lap, and she was drinking wine.

"Well," she said, setting down the cup. "The girl returns. And she brought the king of the dead."

"Sigrun," Ingrith said.

"I have been running this hold for a day. It is running very well."

"You poured out my mother's medicine."

"I saved us all a great deal of trouble."

"You told Hrodmar where to find me."

Sigrun leaned forward.

"I did what any wife of this house would do, girl. I put the hold first."

"I put it first when your mother took ill, and I put it first now."

"If your father had any spine..."

"Where is my father?"

"Locked in the cellar. He kept crying."

A gasp ran through the household.

Kaelor strode past Ingrith.

Every Frostland soldier dropped his sword at once.

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