The Ice King

by Hume, M. K.

  Yet she grinned like a gargoyle when she saw the eyes of the Dene spokesman. This scarred warrior thought he could hide his true feelings, but men are amateurs at the ancient games of deceit that pass between the sexes. Women learn before they are half-grown how to disguise disagreeable or insulting thoughts.

  ‘I can see you are still soaked with my oil, as are at least four of your men – and probably more!’ She raised her voice so that every person present could hear her and, as her message sank in, Blaise raised her torch and held it high for all to see.

  ‘I can ignite my torch and light the oil that soaks you in the flicker of an eyelid. You must wonder whether any of the oil has found its way from your tunics to those of your friends.’

  Blaise’s hollow black stare dared the eyes of each of her enemies to call her bluff, but Hrolf Kraki’s dogs looked away in fear of the dreaded torch. ‘Will you burn as furiously as your brothers who have already passed into death? We’ll only know if you decide not to surrender your weapons, so make up your mind. I can light my torch while I wait on you.’

  She held up a small lamp and the oil-soaked wick burst into flame.

  The warriors who had been doused in oil found themselves deserted by their companions who shrank away from them as if they had been infected with Justinian’s Disease.

  ‘No! Wait! No!’ the warrior in the forefront of the circle called out desperately. ‘Don’t be hasty about this matter! If you agree, I’m prepared to take my remaining men and leave your island in one of the two longboats that brought us here. If you wish, you may keep the other vessel as the blood-price for your dead. It is owned by Hrolf Kraki so it can rot for all I care. Loki’s Eye! It’s a bad luck vessel!’

  Blaise and Maeve gasped with a sudden shock of recognition, and Alfridda swore in a most un-ladylike way.

  ‘What did you say?’ Alfridda took a short step towards the scarred man.

  ‘I said the vessel is called Loki’s Eye?’ he replied doubtfully. ‘My master was amused by its name, and said he was inflicting the justice of the gods on Stormbringer.’

  None of the women saw fit to explain that Loki’s Eye was Stormbringer’s longboat, the same superb vessel that had taken the Sae Dene across the trackless ocean to Britannia. During the voyage, Stormbringer had won valuable plunder and great knowledge and had captured four young aristocrats from that green and fertile land. All of his spoils had been given to Hrolf Kraki as a personal tribute. When Stormbringer eventually refused to kill the captives on the king’s orders, Hrolf Kraki had saved face by declaring the Sae Dene king to be an outlaw.

  But Loki’s Eye had finally come home.

  ‘My men and I will run from the Crow King’s revenge as far and as fast as we can. We have no right to ask for mercy from you, but fire is a filthy death and no man deserves such a punishment. Can we agree on this matter?’

  ‘Very well,’ Alfridda answered for Blaise, who placed the torch on the ground, extinguished it, and melted back into the press of bodies. Unconsciously, the farm workers allowed her to pass between them without allowing her to touch them.

  ‘Before you depart, you will abandon your weaponry!’ Alfridda decided. ‘I also want to know exactly what Hrolf Kraki desired of you, including any instructions he gave that might affect my people in the future. I can promise you that Stormbringer will hunt you and your men down if you should betray us in this pact.’

  The tall, scarred warrior nodded mutely, although his eyes kept turning to watch the smoking torch as it lay on the ground.

  ‘What were your orders from Hrolf Kraki?’ she persisted, but his reticence soon filled her with alarm. The scarred man cleared his throat nervously and addressed his dirty boots, rather than meet Alfridda’s eyes.

  ‘We were ordered to make an example of every person who lives at The Holding – men, women and children. No survivors! I can swear that many of us thought our king was crazed when he ordered us to take the children from the farmsteads, both high-born and low, and nail them to the front wall of the long-hall while they were still alive.

  ‘Yes . . .’ the warrior said softly and paused. ‘We were appalled by the order, but you know Hrolf Kraki. What the Crow King wants, the Crow King gets!’

  ‘Was that all that he asked of you?’ Alfridda asked in a voice thick with sarcasm.

  The warrior looked shame-faced, as if he had been caught out in a lie. ‘I was told to ensure that you were killed, my lady, and your corpse was left on display in a prominent place where your brother would be certain to find you. We were to sack The Holding and kill everyone and everything in it, right down to the last hen in the chicken coops. Hrolf Kraki intended his wrath to be complete and terrible.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that Stormbringer’s revenge and fury will be more than the equal of the king’s treachery when my brother is told of what you have done,’ Alfridda retorted with no trace of passion, apart from a promise of justice.

  ‘We are fighting men, my lady. We are paid to carry out a task allotted to us by our master. We don’t claim to be good men, but such orders are sickening to us. However, we are Hrolf Kraki’s dogs. He owns us, so we must obey or our oaths are meaningless. Our family members are held hostage against our compliance with his wishes. I regret to say that we would have killed you all if circumstances had allowed.’

  ‘At least you’re honest. I’ll give you that,’ Lorcan interrupted almost cheerfully , as if that afternoon of blood had been a minor amusement. ‘I’m quite sure that these young ladies would have cheerfully seen you and your men dead if they were given a reason to thrust you into the shades. Personally, I’d rather face down a slew of banshees than anger one woman who believes she’s been wronged.’

  ‘You don’t know Hrolf Kraki,’ the warrior retorted glumly.

  ‘Then you have a problem, boyo. In your place, I’d be looking for fairer climes than Jutland and travel to some place where you can live in relative safety. Saxony perhaps – or Thuringia! They both need men who are handy with swords and are looking for gainful employment. For what it’s worth, your longboat will be worth a small fortune to the right people. If I were you, I’d be going while I had the chance to run, meaning now, before this good lady decides to change her mind.’

  The warrior was torn between conflicting emotions. Threats meant little to a man who had lived his whole adult life in the service of ruthless, brutal masters. He preferred to ignore any thoughts about the afterlife, and stated openly when he was in his cups that there were no gods in existence who could punish him for his misdeeds. However, he never courted death openly and, for the most part, enjoyed the pleasures of being alive. Eventually, after weighing up the relative merits of the situation, retreat won out. Besides, he told himself, his men could beach their vessel to the south of The Holding and return overland during the darkness of the long night. A few strategically placed torches thrust onto the reed-covered roofs and the farm buildings would burn like tinder.

  And these two bitches from over the sea would blaze brightly with the other defenders. Perhaps he should spend some time with them first, teaching them the wisdom of forgetting his surrender and the fear he had shown when he’d been at a disadvantage. Then, when he saw the terror in their eyes, he’d feel like a man again.

  Hrolf Kraki might not approve of all the details of this second attack on the farmsteads, but the message would be passed to the Sae Dene king with brutal force. Hrolf Kraki would be the ultimate winner in a game of power.

  Maeve saw the warrior’s eyes shift sideways and noted the tiniest flicker of his mouth because he was unable to disguise an anticipatory smile – and she recognised his contempt! He had decided on a way out of his predicament that would still deliver The Holding into his hands, so Maeve quickly scanned the faces of the farm survivors in search of Blaise. Together, they should be able to counter moves made by such a dumb brute. But Blaise h
ad vanished without warning.

  ‘Then we’ll surrender to you, and I trust you’ll allow us to leave the island in safety,’ the spokesman muttered slowly, his crafty eyes darting from Gareth to Alfridda and the rest of the farm workers with an oddly ambivalent brusqueness.

  This bastard is far too unrepentant, Maeve decided.

  ‘Be careful, my lady,’ Lorcan whispered softly into Alfridda’s ear. ‘I don’t trust these swine as far as I can kick them and, at my advanced age, that’s not very fucking . . .’ His voice trailed off.

  Embarrassed, the priest bowed his head and apologised as Alfridda fixed him with an arrogant blue stare. ‘I should have said that I can’t kick them very far, my lady.’

  Alfridda turned back to face her captives.

  ‘Your weapons,’ she demanded. ‘You will strip off your armour, and lay all your arms in a pile alongside the fence. Your valuables will be placed on that boundary stone near the farm gate. Consider them confiscated!’

  A look of chagrin flashed through the warrior’s sly eyes. Then they became blank again as he mastered his emotions; there was replacement weaponry on board the longboat, so he was the first of the Dene warriors to move to the appointed spot and unbuckle his sword belt. Then he proceeded to remove several concealed knives from his boots and his belt, draw off his mailed shirt and tunic and, finally, place his shield and a beautifully wrought axe onto the pile. While the defenders of The Holding watched blandly, he moved to a whitewashed marker stone and placed a gold ring, a silver coin and an oddly shaped cloak pin on its pristine surface.

  The rest of the raiders followed suit. For the best part of an hour, the warriors were thoroughly searched and everything of value was taken from them. Many of the warriors tried to secrete coinage as well as valuable gems taken as trophies while in the employment of Hrolf Kraki; one man was found to have gold coins secreted in his mouth.

  Then, accompanied by the full complement of the farm defenders, even the children who had escaped from the storeroom where they had been held, the defeated Dene warriors trudged away towards the cove where their two boats had been beached. The children enjoyed their humiliation hugely and tossed tussocks of grass and mud, cow turds, rotten food and human faeces at the invaders with the shrill enthusiasm of scavenging birds.

  Part way to the shingled beach Blaise suddenly appeared at Maeve’s shoulder.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Maeve whispered. ‘I don’t trust these bastards one bit and I’ve been looking for you so we could find a way of protecting The Holding from a surprise return.’

  ‘Quiet!’ Blaise hissed. ‘I’ve been seeing to things – so hush! My plan might still go awry if they realise what I’ve been doing.’

  And then Blaise noticed that the young man she remembered as Gareth, Arthur’s servant and friend, was standing alongside her. She smiled beatifically. ‘I remember you! You’re Gareth, aren’t you? It’s remarkable that you’ve managed to find us after all this time. I must say that you’re rather late!’

  Gareth noticed several spots of blood on one of Blaise’s shoes and a red edging around the sole of the other, as if she had stepped in a puddle of fresh blood. The young man shuttered his eyes and ignored the small oddity. He bowed to acknowledge her greeting, but any talk of their return to Britain was premature, so Blaise took Maeve’s arm and they sauntered to the rear of the column making its way towards the beach.

  Seemingly, nothing had changed at the cove sighted by Gareth during his gallop to the farm except for the absence of the two warriors who had been left to guard the longboats. Lorcan soon found their corpses lying together, side by side, with their hands devoid of weapons and their clothes soaked with blood from deep frontal slashes to their throats. One of the men had loosened his trews which had almost fallen to his knees, leaving his pale, shrivelled genitals bared pathetically to the grey sky and several persistent gulls that were searching for a special treat. Lorcan winced.

  Maeve was thinking rapidly. How could Blaise overcome two fully grown warriors? Maeve never doubted that her friend had killed the sentries but, until this blood-soaked day, she would never have believed that Blaise had such a capacity for carnage.

  One of the longboats had been inexpertly ransacked in such a manner that it was unsuitable for an immediate voyage. Its water barrels had been stove in and sharp knives had slashed a number of ropes attached to the great sail. The other was untouched, as if the persons who had killed the guards had been interrupted before they could vandalise it. An adze with a wickedly sharp blade was lying on the shingle near the disabled longboat.

  Maeve looked blankly at Blaise who gave her a limpid smile in return.

  ‘Have faith, sister,’ Blaise whispered softly. ‘These bastards won’t get far.’

  Maeve felt a little queasy when she saw a gloating in Blaise’s black eyes. Unbidden, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

  ‘The children of Cornwall are touched, Maeve, so it wasn’t just the Pendragon line that had a strange heritage,’ Bedwyr had said. ‘I will always remember Morgan and the stories that were told of her. When I knew her, she’d turned herself into a grotesque and ugly object of horror. No man could look at her and not feel his balls shrivel, but Artor swore to me that his sister was once so beautiful that she could call any man she chose into her bed. With both these unnatural bloodlines, Artor should have been a monster, but something good resulted from the dark blood of two families cursed by fate.’

  ‘God help us then!’ Maeve breathed. ‘What has Blaise done?’

  Stormbringer paced frenetically up and down the narrow spaces in his tent as Arthur, the jarls and the courier from the Saxony border, Henning Gunnarsen, awaited his decisions. Tension made the air hum as strong men fidgeted on their folding stools.

  ‘We have three clear problems, friends. Correct me if I’ve forgotten any details, but our first priority is the attack on our southern borders on the mainland. Ivar Hnaefssen has dealt fairly with us from the earliest days of the Skanian campaign and sent men and ships to us that he could ill afford to lose. I must repay my debts to him, so I propose that we sail to give him relief as soon as we can re-provision our vessels.

  ‘Are we agreed?’ Stormbringer demanded of the assembled captains.

  ‘We are agreed, lord. Their aggression should be fought with our combined might and resources,’ Erikk Halversen replied gruffly.

  ‘Thank you! Our people must depend upon your honour and devotion to all of our land without reservation,’ Stormbringer responded with dignity. But then his face twisted slightly.

  ‘Secondly, I must ask permission from you to make a detour to The Holding while we are travelling to the relief of Ivar Hnaefssen. I must ensure that my family and friends are safe after the attack, and that I provide them with slaves and supplies in case the winter provisions have been destroyed. Something must be done about our king once I have proved the circumstances of his raid. Meanwhile, the fleet will continue under the command of one of your number while I discover what damage has been done to The Holding.’

  ‘There is no need for you to divert to The Holding, my lord,’ Arthur interrupted. ‘I can perform this service on your behalf and then chase down the fleet once I find out what has occurred there. Sea Wife is a very fast longboat and my crew are superbly trained oarsmen. My boat can make the crossing quickly, while taking whatever booty, slaves and goods that you wish to be left in the safety of your broad acres. Truly, the fleet needs your steadying hand in command. I, too, have a stake in what has happened at The Holding so I will ensure that your girls are safe and well and determine the health and condition of your farm labourers and slaves. Then I will rejoin you in the south of Jutland. Please allow me to perform this small task for you, Valdar.’

  The jarls were relieved by this proposal. The Sae Dene king should lead a Sae Dene fleet into any war, and each man present knew that per
sonal worries should never deflect a king from serving the greater good, so they overruled Stormbringer’s wishes and endorsed Arthur’s solution. A ruler would be a fool to disregard his counsellors, and Stormbringer could never be considered a fool.

  ‘By his recent actions, Hrolf Kraki has finally shown that he has been ensorcelled by the witch-woman and has deserted his people during their time of trouble. By attacking The Holding, he has shown that he rejects the ancient agreements that existed between the Land Dene and the Sae Dene. As the High King, Hrolf Kraki has broken our sacred covenants when he attacked my home at a time when he knew I would be absent. He has waged war on peasants, slaves, women and children, while refusing to assist his loyal vassals at a time when his subjects were under direct attack from our outside enemies. His actions are lacking in honour and reek of foolishness.’

  ‘Hrolf Kraki is a fool!’ Erikk Halversen punctuated Stormbringer’s words gruffly.

  ‘He’s worse than that!’ Arthur added. ‘If the border lands should fall, he won’t be able to protect the north from invasion by those who would do harm to our people. He refuses to wage war on legitimate enemies when jarls such as Ivar Hnaefssen have called for his assistance. How can he permit such a decent man to abase himself on his knees and ignore his legitimate pleas for aid? Is our king a pawn in a larger game? Hrolf Kraki must be confronted to remove the poisonous presence of the witch-woman from his court. Then, once he has been separated from his treasonous paramour, the Crow King might see sense and we could withdraw from Heorot in peace.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t agree to change his ways?’ a hard-bitten, older jarl from the central Cimbric Peninsula asked morosely. This man knew only too well that his broad acres would be the next to succumb to the advances of the Hundings, once the lands of Ivar Hnaefssen had fallen into their hands.

  ‘If he doesn’t change his ways, Hrolf Kraki may have to be forcibly removed. If that should happen, my cousin, Frodhi, is next in line to the throne and he has generously provided men, ships and coin to the Skanian campaign. We would not have won without his support. If Frodhi should become the High King, the ancient ties between the two rulers could be re-established,’ Stormbringer explained forcefully, and Arthur could think of no reason to contradict his master – although he immediately felt the tiniest warning scrape of a hidden claw along the inner surface of his skull.