Heidaby, Denmark, autumn 1018-19 AD
Knut"s long strides led us into the King"s hall, an imposing building whose glory of writhing carvings on the main pillars captured my attention. Each one related a legend or tale. One, I recognised at once as depictions from the saga of Beowulf. A scop related that story with me clinging to my father"s leg, many years ago. As I stared at the grotesque image of Grendel, I sensed eyes on me. I turned to satisfy my curiosity and Gytha smiled and approached.
“Do you know the tale of Beowulf, Lord Godwine?”
I confessed I had not heard it since childhood, but that at the time it had made a deep impression on me. Gytha laid a cool hand on my arm, sending a shiver of pleasure through me. Her pale blue eyes, warm this time, gazed up into mine,
“I never weari
