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‘You’re glad I’ve had my fill of it?’ Bror replied, blinking in surprise. ‘Why, brother, if you’d asked me two weeks ago, I’d have told you I’d have my fill of it.’ They were both silent for a moment. Bror looked out. He faced away from the camp and his eyes scanned the dark landscape.
‘Skald,’ he said, turning his head halfway towards his brother. ‘I’ve been thinking. They came from the gates and drew the entire assault away from us mostly, way back at the battle, you know. You don’t suppose. . .do you think that they managed to get back all safe and not getting hurt? I mean, I suppose Papi - that is - Father, and Riv were both fighting there.’ A light sprang up into his eyes and he couldn’t keep back the smile. ‘Can’t you just see it? Both of them up in the front lines fighting right beside the King?’
He turned his eyes back outwards, towards the darkness, and towards home. ‘Being in the front lines, I guess, would bring more danger. But they couldn’t have been killed, could they? Not Riv. We both made it out alive. . .surely he would. Yes, we did both make it out alive. . .’he trailed off into silence.
That thought in itself seemed to comfort him. Surely if Skald and much less he himself had managed to fight in a battle and come out pretty much unscathed, Riv and Father could. After all these days and weeks of being out, why turn thoughts bad and begin to worry? But that was only his own consideration.
‘What do you think, Skald? Do you suppose they all made it back home safely?’
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