Nothing... useful. I remember he and my father spoke a lot. I remember them talking about Paris. They made this... sand castle of it. I think the priest was showing my father what it looked like, the river that the city is on. I remember they let us play with it when they were done. And I remember Athelstan... he had his own house a little ways from Kattegat. Not far. Just outside the city. A short walk. Where he could pray to his god.

I don't think my mother liked him much. [He wasn't sure what had given him that impression. She'd always been quietly polite to the priest, but cold as well. It was more of a feeling Hvitserk had than anything close to a tangible fact.]