'He is long dead.' Melcorka unsheathed Erik's blade. About half the weight of Defender, it was decorated with spiral patterns and had a runic script running above the guard. 'What do these letters mean?' She smiled. 'I never learned to read.'
'Thor and Odin own you,' Erik said. 'May I try your belt on?' Before Melcorka could reply, Erik shrugged off his ornate light blue cloak and fastened Melcorka's sword belt around him, so the hilt of Defender protruded above his left shoulder. 'It's very heavy,' he said.
'You get used to it. The balance makes up for the weight.' Melcorka watched as Erik stalked the length of the house, shouted 'Thor' and drew Defender as if to strike.
'Would you part with your sword?'
'I would not,' Melcorka said. She tightened her grip on Erik's sword, wondering i
