Vaalea was picking firewood. She had piled old dry branches upon her forearm and now ripped a few fistfuls of last year’s dry hay from the ground for kindling. A lot had happened since the Spirit had spoken to her in her dream. She had found the ’tumbled hall being remade’ but not this Tyrgrim. Tall man with a beard and furs she had been told by Hrothulf, but such was the description of half the men she had encountered.
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Hrothulf
