Fiona’s breath caught as she surveyed the multitude of men and tents gathered beside the gleaming lake. ‘Twas like the fair at Cashel, she thought, only mayhap even bigger. “How long will the meeting take?” she asked as she walked beside Dag. Sigurd and the other men had taken off down the pathway, obviously anxious to join their countrymen, while Dag remained behind to guide the horses. “I cannot say. We might reach a decision in a few hours... or a few days.” Fiona tensed. Her time with Dag grew shorter and shorter. Seeing her ill-ease, Dag reached out with his free hand and touched her shoulder. “There’s nothing to fear. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.” Fiona could not meet his eyes. Dag thought she feared his countrymen. He had no idea her anxiety and dread came from the thought of leaving him. “I will not forget my promise,” she said. “I will be the most obedient thrall at the gathering.” They reached the Viking encampment, and Dag guided the horses to an area where there were several other horsecarts.
