[The hollow of trees would have been a good place for a group of people to stay, but now there was only the one lonely horse, grazing at the grasses. There was no fire, no evidence of smoke, but Ragnar expected none. The trees opened on one side; it would have been visible to many more if she had and Lagertha was no fool.
He slowed his horse further as he led her off the trail and towards the grove, one hand on the knife in his belt. But there she was, sitting calmly on a bed roll. as beautiful as she had been that day when he had slain bear and hound to win her favor. Every day since he had appeared here, companion to a strange healer, he had missed her. Her touch, the smell of her hair, her voice in his ears, the warmth of her body.
He slid from the saddle, one foot catching on the stirrups and making him hop until he could get it free. He grinned, boyish and easy as he walked towards her.] Lagertha.