“My name is Odin,” the soldier said after a moment, gesturing to another blonde-haired warrior in the bed next to him, “that is Olaf.”
Alexis nodded to the other. He, like Odin, was about her father’s age. His beard was longer, but no less tidy than Odin’s and braided with beads.
Odin shifted, gesturing to the oldest soldier, then the youngest, saying, “That is Tor and Ivan.”
They both nodded acknowledgment to their names but remained silent.
“We protected Wakefield, well-used to. The king sent us to defend the northern borders, but the enemy was ready for us. They used flaming arrows and spears, attacking our dragons. They brought many of us down before we drove them back. But that was only the beginning.”
Alexis listened quietly, letting his words blend with her imagination. She
