Our ride across the kingdom was uneventful until we came to a forested area where from out of the trees arose a pall of dense black smoke.
“A fire!” cried one of my companions pointlessly.
I slowed my horse, gathering the other five around me.
“I don’t like the look of this, let’s investigate, but keep your weapons at the ready and move with caution—keep close together!”
In this manner, we advanced down a wide trail, pocked sporadically where cartwheels had stuck in the previous winter mud, creating deep ruts. We came to a place where another track crossed ours and suddenly, along it came six horsemen—Vikings! Slung across the first horse was a blond-haired child, no more than four winters old, and his piping voice drifted to us over the sound of the hoofs,
“Help! Help, please help me
