Loker could not help but smile at the girl and when she finished, he tousled her red curls gently with his big sword calloused hand. The bright eyed child had a way about her that caused even the grimmest among them to soften. He would protect her as he would her brave mother and sister, for what good was a housekarl if he could not see that the people under his Jarl's care were not harmed? He kept the smile on his face even as the nagging thoughts of the search party rose in his mind. The sleet had stopped but it was very cold and scent of snow was in the air. Brushing her hair once more he stood up, his eyes finding Hallerna who was speaking with the Pict. He watched them for a moment before looking down at Eyja, [b]"I will see you and your family at the hall tomorrow. Freya was very happy with your help and I've never had a better ale bearer."[/b] Loker winked at her, [b]"And bring that kitten of yours, there are mice aplenty in the cupboards that need killing."[/b] He gathered his men and spoke with them quietly before they left to return to the Hall. One of his men glanced back at the healing house, lit by torches now. [b]"I had my wife sacrifice to Odin for the Jarl's return, perhaps we should do the same. A slave maybe? Since we will be hard pressed to spare meat."[/b] Loker shook his head, [b]"I cannot sanction that, only Bjorn or Vigi since he is the only seidr now. If the Allfather sees it in Bjorn's fate that he will return, then he will. There is nothing more for us to do but wait. You all may do as you wish, I will offer to the Gods in private."[/b] The older warrior opened his mouth to protest but changed his mind, nodding with respect to Loker as he turned away from the group to head to his own home. The housekarl broke apart from them as they returned the spears to the weapon rack and he headed toward his room. Freya watched him, holding back her questions as she put out the last of the candles in the main hall. The fire burned low in the large hearth, casting shadows on her care worn face. His room was small and spare, nothing more than a sleeping bench with wool blankets and furs, a brazier, a wooden trunk, and a shield hung on the wall. Loker stirred the coals and added some wood to the fire before stepping over to a shelf built into the wall. A small stone carving of a one eyed bearded man stood among others at his shrine. Normally he would pray to his patron God, Thor, rather than the notoriously fickle Odin but he did watch over the Jarls and so he picked it up. [b]"Odin,"[/b] he said, [b]"What wisdom do you have for me?"[/b] The heavy silence was broken only by the crackle of fire and he set down the figure on the trunk. He knelt before it and murmured in his deep voice a plead to Odin, the Allfather. Loker removed his long knife from the scabbard that hung across his midsection, the polished steel glinting in the low light. [b]"Odin, far wanderer, grant me wisdom, courage, and victory; Friend Thor grant me your strength. And both be with me,"[/b] he spoke in a hushed tone, hating the desperation he felt. The Gods did not grant wishes, they merely did things at their whims, when it suited them and if they took interest. Loker drew the knife across his arm, deep red welling up at the fine gash and he stood, stepping to the brazier. [b]"I give my blood as sacrifice,"[/b] he said, flexing his hand so it ran freely, sizzling as it hit the hot coals. [b]"If Bjorn is meant for your halls, Allfather, then it is so. But if he can be spared, please return him to us."[/b] He watched the blood run and he sighed, looking at the stone figures on the alter. ------------------------------ Faolan led Wilfred back to the healing house and before they approached the door, he barked out a laugh and said dryly, [b]"Oh, a moral compass? Ragnar the Priest Killer...and a Saxon priest. This should be amusing. Keep in mind, the master doesn't like Christian 'magic'. That includes prayers, Bibles, and crosses. So unless you want to sleep out in the cold or to be offered up for a sacrifice, I suggest keeping all that to yourself. At least in his presence."[/b] They entered the healing house, where people were stirring to leave and he spotted Sigrid speaking with Tora with Ragnar and his two warriors standing off to the side. He approached, his eyes on Tora's poor face. He felt another surge of impotent anger and he turned away from her, unable to bear the sight. Tora saw him turn away, she knew why and held no resentment. She shifted slightly and winced at the pain in her back where Harald had beat her with the metal studded belt. She looked at Wilfred, tall, strong, and proud still despite his slave status. A Christian holy man like Anndrais but he did not radiate peace, he seemed to simmer with his god's fire within him. Sigrid sat with her awhile and she was grateful for her mistress' presence and that Ragnar was nearby. She felt safe here at the healing house, surrounded by those that would not harm her and would protect her from the dogs returning.