"Nothing is bigger than the clan! Nothing!" the jarl shouted.

  "The Bizogot folk is. The Empire is. All the lands on this side of the Glacier are," Liv said. "Hamnet does not tell you not to fight back. He tells you to pick your time."

  Trasamund snorted. "He worries more about Gudrid and Eyvind Torfinn and Sigvat more than he does about us."

  "For better or worse—for better and worse—they are my folk. So are the rest of the Raumsdalians," Hamnet Thyssen said steadily. "No matter what Sigvat thinks, they'll join this fight before too long. They'll have to."

  "So you say," the Bizogot rumbled. After a moment, though, he gave a grudging nod. "To the Red Dire Wolves, then. We will. . . pick our moment." He made it sound like picking his nose. But when he said, "The fight goes on," Liv and Hamnet Thyssen both nodded with him.

 

 

  Harry Turtledove, Beyond the Gap

 

 

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