CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Runa sat in the hall, enjoying the warm hearth fire and the companionable silence of Elin and three other girls busy with knitting wool socks. The repetition calmed her, focusing her mind on the work and not on thoughts of winter or of her husband. Daylight grew ever longer and everyone used the time to check on herds or make repairs. For the women, they enjoyed a cold blue light to illuminate their work rather than lamps or the hearth.
She looked up at the smoke curling along the ceiling and feeling for the bright hole in the roof. The sky beyond was already tinted purple and the winter night would resume. Konal had gone to repair a storage shed damaged in a storm, taking several of his boy followers to assist. Gunnar had been sent with another to collect heather branches for the firewood. Hakon was taking his afternoon nap. It was a rare moment for her to enjoy being herself.
Placing her knitting to the side, she stood. Her short sword, the sax, had been set against the hearth where she sat and now slid to the floor as she rose.
"Sun is almost down and the men must return soon. We should start a meal."
"No sword practice today?" Elin laughed and the girls giggled. Runa had long accepted their teasing.
"Likely not. The storage shed needed repairs more than I need sword practice. Though I think the boys won't let Konal miss it, even if it means practice in the dark."
"Do you think Konal's brother is really coming?" one of the girls asked, her eyes wide. "He is so handsome, and he claims his brother looks just like him."
Elin clucked her tongue. "Your father has a man picked for you already."
"If both my father and the man return." Her voice trailed off, and suddenly everyone found a task to occupy them. Runa collected the wool into a basket and placed it by the loom.
She turned to console the girl, trying to summon a positive thought to buoy her faith.
But she froze, words stuck in her throat.
Standing in the open hall doors was a strange man. He was clad in heavy furs and a wool cap, greasy yellow hair hanging lank on the sides of his narrow head. In front of him stood Gunnar, and the man held a long, gray knife to his throat. Tears beaded at Gunnar's eyes but his mouth was bent in a defiant scowl.
The girls screamed, finally comprehending what they saw. The man walked Gunnar into the hall, and four others flowed in behind them with drawn swords. Their predatory smiles left shadow-filled lines on their faces, turning them into masks of evil.
"Shut up, woman!" the leader snapped.
The leader, who held Gunnar, was hardly a man. His beard was scraggly and his jaw still soft with youth. None of the strangers appeared older than sixteen or seventeen years. With her training, she noted the awkward way they held their drawn swords and the careless guard they assumed entering the hall. They believed no one would oppose them.
With every pounding beat of her racing heart, she resolved to make all five of these boys pay for their arrogance.
"Do as he says," Runa announced as evenly as her trembling voice allowed. "Remain silent."
The five strangers spread in from the doorway. The leader lifted Gunnar to his tiptoes by driving the knife at his throat. He started laughing. "What did I say to you? The men are gone and this place is all for us."
The group cackled and the women whimpered in terror. Elin sat where Runa had just been. Slowly, though no one paid much attention, she reached down to draw the sax upright. Runa reacted. "Elin, stand up when we have guests."
The command made little sense, but she had feared Elin planned to use the weapon. Instead, she left if upright and shot Runa a frustrated look.
"Guests! Yeah, guests all right!" The leader leaned back in laughter, his knife tightening on Gunnar's neck so that a trickle of blood sprouted. Gunnar grimaced but did not cry out.
She had to delay. Konal and the other boys would return soon. They might be able to aid her, but Gunnar had to be separated first.
"You're holding my son hostage. Let him go and you can have whatever you want."
"I'll have whatever I want, that is certain. But your whelp bit me, and he should be punished." The leader stepped closer with the knife cutting deeper into Gunnar's soft flesh. A tear rolled down his eye and he trembled. Runa tried not to look at him, instead searching for a gap to exploit.
One of the young men upturned a table with a roar. The women screamed anew, but Runa used the distraction to move closer to the hearth. The sax leaned on the opposite side, but an iron poker remained in the low fire closer at hand.
"You promised riches and women," said the one who had flipped the table. "But we've got two old bitches and three little girls. Where's the fucking gold?"
"Nye Grenner is famous for gold, isn't it?" The leader winked at Runa. "You're Ulfrik's wife; you've got gold on your neck."
She touched Konal's torc in surprise, having forgotten she wore it. Then a shadow flitted at the doorway, and when no one followed on it she knew Konal and his boys had returned. She had to free Gunnar before he acted.
"You're local boys?" She edged closer to the poker, trying not to look at it. "Which one sent you, Skard or Thorod?"
"Loki sent us," answered another and all laughed again.
"Did you just call me a boy?" The leader's face pulled into a frown and Gunnar squealed as the knife bit deeper. Runa closed her eyes. "Before you give us everything your husband has been hiding in this hall, I'm going to show you how much of a man I am."
"Wouldn't you like to try?" Runa's lip curled. "You wouldn't even know where to point your little prick."
The insult inflamed the leader's rage, snorting and shoving Gunnar toward one of his cohort as he stalked toward her.
"Konal!"
He charged through door, his sword held low in two hands. The invaders whirled toward him, the one closest to the door crumpling into a bleeding pile before turning.
The girls screamed and Runa snatched the poker from the hearth. Konal's blade was already hacking into the leg of another attacker as another figure entered the hall. Runa had no time to see more.
Knife already in hand, the leader sprang away from Runa's strike with only a moment to spare. The poker was heavier than her sax but lighter than the sword she used for practice. Her fury carried her, reversing the poker's strike so the heated metal slammed into the leader's arm. The cloth sleeve burned away and the man screamed.
She rammed him with her shoulder, folding up his sword arm as Ulfrik had done to her in practice many times before, then slipped her foot behind his heel. He crashed to the ground with a screech and Runa took the poker in both hands and hammered it across his face. She roared all her frustration and anger, all her hatred for the man who had threatened her son, and a blindness overcame her. She only stopped when Konal's voice pierced through her madness.
"Stop! Gunnar is still hostage!"
The pulpy mass at her feet made no sense, then she realized it was the shell of the leader's head with the face beaten out of it. She had seen many gory sights in her life, but this was the worst. Bloody flesh chunks clung to her skirt and the poker's heat cause the blood on it to bubble and hiss.
"I'll kill him!" The desperate voice drew her around. Elin stood white and wide-eyed before the girls. Konal and his follower stood amid three corpses, brilliant red splatters over their faces. Then she found the source of the voice: the surviving invader had Gunnar held just the same as the leader had. He struggled against the knife, blood smearing his neck and shirt, and both cheeks shined with tears.
Seeing her son again cooled the fury. The blade rested over the throbbing vein in Gunnar's neck, and even an accidental reflex from the invader could kill her son. So she willed the intense urge to strike to drain from her limbs, no small task. The entire hall stood in frozen silence, though Runa heard voices outside drawing closer.
"I'll kill him if you don't let me go!" The man was as young as the others, not yet a full grown man but just as dangerous as one. His hands trembled, and the knife edge wobble
d at Gunnar's throat.
"Don't be afraid, Gunnar. He will release you unharmed." Forcing her voice to be calm and confident took as much strength as wielding the poker.
"I'm not letting him go until I get to my ship."
"You're backed against the wall." Runa threw the poker at the man's feet. The thud made him jump and she winced as his startled reaction cut the blade into Gunnar's skin, causing him to whimper. She turned away from the man, glancing at Konal who remained still and fixed on the invader. Finding the sax by the hearth, she drew the blade from its sheath.
"What are you doing? Do you want me to kill him?"
"You are dead either way," Runa said, pointing the sax at him. "Your only choice now is to die a clean death or to suffer. Kill my son and I will make death linger for weeks. Release him, and I promise you a swift death. You will go to Valhalla where you can feast and fight eternally."
The man searched for an escape, but found none. Konal and his follower blocked the exit and Runa's blade remained two hand lengths away. Tears began to form at his eyes and his mouth trembled. "I don't want to die."
"Then you should've stayed home. It is fine for me to die, my son to die, but not you?" Runa spit at his feet. "Even with a clean death Odin would not take a crying baby into his hall! Release my son. Do it!"
Konal slipped closer and the man tightened his blade as Gunnar struggled anew. "We came for the treasure you keep. We heard all the men were gone. In summer, Jarls Thorod and Skard will come and take it, but we planned to get it ourselves. With no men around, we thought it'd be a simple thing and no one had to die."
"So you sailed in the winter darkness and risked Thor's storms? Then discovered Nye Grenner is not for men to pick over like a corpse. I should let you return with a warning to your jarls."
"I will tell them to stay away, that there's nothing here worth taking." The man nodded eagerly, and Runa smiled.
"Release my son and I will consider it."
"You promise to allow me to leave?"
"I swear it."
A tense moment passed as the man considered the offer, then he lowered his knife. Gunnar slipped free, but rather than run for his mother he turned and punched the man in his crotch. He doubled over and Runa struck.
Her blade pierced the meat of his sword arm, causing him to drop the knife. She shoved the sax to the bone and drove the man against the wall. The women screamed again but all her fury flooded back into her head. Her vision thrummed with rage. Grabbing his knife, she held it before the man's face.
"You threatened to kill my son, planned to rape me and my women, then steal my gold. You expect to walk away?"
She rammed the knife into the soft flesh of the man's crotch, nailing the dagger to the hilt. He lifted up with a scream that threatened to shatter his throat.
"You may leave now, and if you survive then you can give Thorod my message. No one threatens me in my own hall." She ripped the sax out of the man's arm, and more blood pooled at his crotch than she thought a body could contain.
"You ... promised." The man slouched to his side, his uninjured arm clawing at the dirt as if to drag himself away. Runa crouched beside him, lowering her face to his.
"Men live by their oaths. But I am a woman, and I live for revenge. Take that with you to Nifleheim."
She stood, no more thought for the dying man, and faced Gunnar. The fear she saw as she opened her arms to receive him gave her pause. Glancing around, the others stared at her with horror and shock. Looking at the blood-slicked sax, she tossed it to the floor where it clanged atop the poker. The pooling blood ebbed to her feet, and as it touched her Runa realized her life was never going to be the same.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
March 18, 886 CE
Runa and Konal dueled in the fields as they did every day, but now they had relocated to the slope that overlooked the sea. One month had passed since the invaders had been defeated, and their five severed heads now overlooked the collapsed docks where they had left their small boat. Sea birds had picked them clean, leaving the skulls on their pole and with bits of hair streaming in the breeze. The grass waved as Runa wiped sweat from her brow and lowered her sword, her shoulder burning from the morning of practice.
"Enough," Konal said, sliding his sword into its sheath. "You're even tiring me now. I don't know that I can teach you anymore."
Runa smiled at the compliment. His respect for her had risen since the attack, while others handled her with more caution. Even Elin could not meet her gaze for long. Konal, Gunnar, and his band of boy warriors seemed to be the only ones to understand what she had done.
"And then I suppose the boys will want more of me today too." Konal groaned as he settled into the grass. "This is the hardest I've worked in a long time."
"Then rest." Runa placed herself on the grass, a careful distance away. She knew Konal lusted for her; his eyes were not as good at lying as was his tongue. Every time she beat him in practice, she saw him struggle to control his desire. Today was no different, and his red face was more from just the exertion of practice.
Runa's hands pulsed from sword practice. She rubbed the tough ridge of flesh at the base of her fingers of her sword hand and drifted into thought. Winter had been kinder than years past, and summer was soon to come. In better days, Ulfrik would have been planning a spring festival. She shook her head in dismissal, for Ulfrik would be gone at least two more months and thinking of him would only worsen her loneliness. Ever since the raid on her hall, his absence dug at her. Konal provided a strong presence but he was nothing like Ulfrik. He had neither his confident leadership nor his quick mind. More than anything, she missed his wit and humor. Nye Grenner needed laughter as much as it needed food and drink.
Konal shot to his feet. Runa startled from her thoughts.
"Two sails," he said, pointing to the sparkling stretch of gray ocean.
"Thorod and Skard!" Standing, her hand fell to the sword at her side, as if drawing it could wave away the enemy.
"They come from the wrong direction."
"How can you tell?" Runa was a poor judge of direction, but the two ships seemed to sail directly toward them. Konal ignored her question, shading his eyes with his hand. He began to laugh.
"I recognize those sails. My brother has found me." He turned to her, a wide smile on his face, and grabbed both her shoulders. "He has come at the first good sailing weather, as I foretold!"
Releasing her, he ran yelling down the slope while waving both hands overhead. Runa watched in dumbfounded stillness. Strange feelings welled up, a sudden sadness. Though the ships were not even at the shore, she knew Konal was not mistaken. Fate now worked to remove Konal from the thread of Runa's life. She touched her cheek at the thought, and her breathing grew heavier.
Konal was dancing in the surf, splashing water into the air like a child. His shouting had drawn people from the hall. Gunnar appeared at her side, and tugged her sleeve. "Is everything all right, Mother?"
Blinking several times, she patted Gunnar's head. "Of course. Konal's brother has come." Her voice weakened. "Just as he foretold."
They stared at him waving and shouting, then Gunnar remarked, "That's how I'm going to greet Father when he returns. I'm going to dance in the water like Konal."
Even as the ships slid onto the rocky beach, one man had leapt from the prow and stumbled through the water to Konal. The two men crashed together in the shallows, both of them screaming and wailing in joy. Others leapt the rails into the shallows, some to drag their ships onto the beach and others to slog through the water for Konal. In moments, the men were swarming him and reaching out to touch him. The pile of laughing men looked like boys to Runa. The clump staggered onto the beach where they finally collapsed in a pile. Gunnar laughed. "They're so happy!"
Runa smiled as an afterthought, then guided Gunnar to her side. "Let's greet our guests."
At the edge of the surf, Konal stood arm in arm with his twin. Only Konal's poor clothing distinguished him f
rom his better dressed brother. The two shared the same smile, though the brother's seemed more open. Konal pulled out and grabbed Runa's arm, yanking her forward.
"Here's the woman who saved my life." His arm slipped easily about her shoulder, and she did not resist. "She plucked me from a rock under a cliff, where I surely would've died. Without her, you'd be fetching my bones instead."
The brother, whose name she knew was Kell, looked her up and down. His eyes widened at the pants she wore and the sword at her side, but he met her eyes and held them. "My brother is one-half my life, and so you have rescued me as well. I cannot repay you for keeping Konal well for all this time."
He bowed low and many of the dark men in salt-stained clothing behind him did as well. Several shouted their thanks while others simply looked her in the eye and nodded. A few even wiped away tears.
"I am Runa, ruler of Nye Grenner. I welcome you, Kell, to my lands and home."
Kell snapped up at his name, a wry smile on his face. "Konal's been talking about me, I see. All the good is a lie and all the bad is true, I'm afraid to admit."
Konal roared laughter, unhooked his arm from Runa, then thumped Kell on his shoulder. "How I've missed you, Brother! We've much to discuss. Let's get to the hall. But wait, where's ...?"
As his voice drifted off, a dark cloud formed over the men. Heads lowered and eyes darted away. Kell's own voice was solemn as he touched the silver hammer of Thor at his throat. "Down to Ran's Bed at the bottom of the sea. Were our blood not one in the same, I'd have guessed you'd followed them as well."
The somber air lasted only moments as Konal lowered his head and wiped his face. He exhaled and then gave a calm smile. "They were a fine crew, the best of any I'd ever known. Let's share a drink to their memories. Come."
Runa followed along as the gathering of warriors converged on her hall. Only now did she realize how naturally Konal has assumed control, as if the hall were his own. Gunnar joined Konal and Kell, receiving a greeting that Runa again felt overstepped boundaries of a guest. It was as if Konal was taking Kell to his home, inviting him into his hall. Her turbid thoughts settled and she realized that with nearly eighty men pouring off these ships, Konal had the force to settle Nye Grenner as his home. Her heart raced as she realized the real invaders might be walking aside her with smiles and songs rather than war cries and swords.
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