The part about feasting among the descendants of Vikings that I had forgotten was the mead.
I had tried to avoid it at first, wanting to keep my head clear. Not that I had any illusions about meditating later. I had managed it every night of the journey so far, without anything that felt like a resulting bond with the reidh rune, but even I knew there was no meditating in the middle of an all-night party. I just wanted to be alert in case any of these strange women would say something actually useful about the Thors.
But Thorfinna wasn"t letting me get away with not drinking. And from the first sip, I knew this was not my grandmother"s mead. It hit me hard, and it demanded more.
The rosy light of dawn had never hurt before, but when I opened my eyes the next morning, it was like stabbin
