‘Hagal is worth ten of you,’ Narfi muttered.
‘Your words, not mine.’
Cwenneth forgot to breathe as she waited for the verdict which would allow them to pass unmolested.
Narfi stood not five feet from her, the man who supposedly had charge of her, the man who had murdered Agatha and the rest, and he challenged Thrand. She heard the genuine pleasure in his voice as he tossed off taunt after taunt. He sought a fight with Thrand.
This was going to end badly. She could feel it in her bones. Thrand and his men were outnumbered. She knew what these men were capable of and how they butchered innocent men.
Her knees threatened to collapse and the world started to turn dark at the edges. Cwenneth shook her head, trying to clear it. Fainting was a luxury she could ill afford. If she fainted, or even made a sound, Narfi would be bound to notice and recognise her. Her only hope was to remain like a statue, a statue of a thrall.
Cold sweat pooled at the base of her neck, her mouth tasted of ash and her back screamed from hunching over. The instinct to run and hide grew with each breath. She fought with all her might to keep still and hunched over. Her haircut and stained clothing had to be enough.
In her mind, she repeated Thrand’s words over and over again—Narfi would never equate a thrall with the missing Lady of Lingwold.
Narfi cast his lifeless eyes over the group.
Pulling her cloak tighter about her, she hastily lowered her chin and hunched her shoulders even more. Thralls kept their eyes to the ground.
Silently, Cwenneth prayed for a miracle.
Suddenly, Narfi’s shoulders relaxed and he beamed with false good humour. ‘Next time call at the hall, rather than sneaking about like a thief, Thrand Ammundson. Hagal keeps a good table for men who belong to his felag.’
‘Halfdan holds my oath.’
‘It is the same thing.’ Narfi made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
Cwenneth released her breath. He accepted Thrand’s word. They might get through this without any bloodshed, or Narfi realising who she was.
‘I’ll remember for the next time, but today I decline.’ Thrand gave a little cough. ‘It never does to keep a king waiting.’
‘What sort of bandits are you looking for?’ Knui called out. ‘I know Hagal the Red’s reputation for rewarding those who assist him with gold.’
‘Did I say bandits?’ Narfi’s eyes narrowed. ‘We’re searching for a woman. Hagal’s bride has been kidnapped. Hagal wants her released. If any of you discover her and brings her to the stronghold, he will give you gold. You have my solemn oath on it.’
Cwen curled her fists and concentrated on the ground. Surely Thrand’s men would keep silent. Thrand had made it clear that she belonged to him.
‘We will keep it in our thoughts and, should we discover such a person, I will be sure to let Hagal know,’ Thrand said smoothly as he gave Knui a hard stare. ‘You will have to be content with my word, Narfi.’
‘How much gold?’ Knui called out.
‘More than you could carry, Knui Crowslayer.’ Narfi gave an evil smile. ‘As you have given us information in the past, you know he is a man who keeps his words in these matters.’
Before Cwenneth could make a sound, Knui had reached her and shoved her forward. She stumbled and fell at Narfi’s feet. ‘Here you go. Here’s your missing woman. Now I want my gold.’
Cwenneth concentrated on Narfi’s mud-splattered boots, praying for a miracle. Thrand and his men were outnumbered and Knui had turned traitor.
The tip of Narfi’s sword jabbed her cheek, pricking her and forcing her face upwards. Her gaze locked with Narfi’s dark one.
‘You thought, my lady, to hide. Pathetic disguise, cutting your hair. You should have stayed in your cart and had a quick death. Better for everyone.’
‘Why?’ Cwenneth asked in a trembling voice. ‘Why better for everyone?’
‘Because your husband slew Hagal’s close kinsman two Aprils ago.’
‘The woman belongs to me,’ Thrand thundered and his sword knocked the blade from her cheek. ‘I’ve claimed her. I’ll not give her up easily. I will deal with the traitor later, but for now this is between you and me, Narfi.’
Cwen scrambled on her hands and knees away from Narfi. When she reached the other side of Thrand’s legs, she stopped, put her fingers to her cheek and wiped a drop of blood away. Her stomach roiled. Thrand had come to her defence but for how long? Thrand was a warrior, a warrior like her husband and her husband had died of his wounds.
‘This woman belongs to you? Since when?’
‘You marked her. No one marks my woman.’ Thrand concentrated on Narfi as he struggled to keep control of his temper. The small trickle of blood on Cwen’s cheek nearly sent him over the edge and in order to survive a fight with Narfi, he had to remain in control. But Narfi would fight him or be branded a coward for ever. ‘Given my mood and the brightness of the day, I was prepared to overlook your insolence about my mission, but not this. You will pay and you will pay in blood.’
‘Make her a present to Hagal.’ Narfi took a step towards where Cwen cradled her cheek on the ground. ‘He will be most interested to know where his errant bride has been. He’ll arrange a special welcome for you, Thrand, as you discovered her.’
‘Over my dead body,’ Thrand said, moving between Cwenneth and Narfi.
‘That can be arranged.’ Narfi lifted his sword. ‘Shall we see if the man matches the legend after all?’
There was a hiss of swords as Thrand’s men drew their weapons. Thrand held up his hand, checking their movement. They obeyed him in an instant. Knui looked over his shoulder, suddenly unsure. Thrand glared at him. Knui’s reckoning would come. He would see to it personally, but first Narfi.
‘A fair fight between you and me, Narfi, with Lady Cwenneth as the prize. Winner takes everything. No need for our men to fight.’ Thrand paused, allowing his words to sink into Narfi’s puffed-up brain. ‘Unless you are all talk and no sword arm.’
‘I welcome the opportunity to prove the man is much less than the legend.’
Instantly, the air became alive with the men making wagers on who would win. Thrand caught Helgi’s eye and nodded. Helgi moved towards Cwen, helping to clear a space for the fighting, but being there to protect her if Narfi’s men decided to act before the fight was through.
Narfi made a mocking bow towards where Cwen crouched on the ground. ‘You should have stayed in the cart like you were supposed to, my lady. Your death would have been quicker. I intend to take my time after your so-called champion dies.’
Cwen paled to ghost-white. Hot rage poured through Thrand’s blood. Narfi enjoyed baiting her and making her feel uncomfortable. The man deserved to die. ‘Does your arrogance know no bounds?’
‘When you lie dying, you will know what folly it is to believe in the legend of your greatness.’ Narfi lifted his sword.
Thrand thrust his sword downwards, catching Narfi on the thigh. ‘I defend what is mine!’
Narfi responded with a swift blow which Thrand easily deflected. The two men circled each other, trading blows, but nothing decisive. A probing of strength and skill to learn as much as possible about his opponent.
In the early days, after his parents’ death, Thrand had engaged in many of these fights. It had been the only way to get to two of his parents’ murderers. And he had nearly lost his life by being too quick and impatient. He had learnt to sit back and wait for the opportunity. They always overreached in time.
Thrand crouched, tossing his sword from hand to hand, enjoying the faint thrill of combat against a good opponent.
Thrand moved to his right. Narfi stuck out his foot. Thrand rolled, avoiding the blow, and rose to catch Narfi’s elbow.
‘That passes for fighting, Narfi? My grandmother would
have done better.’
‘Is that who taught you? I had wondered.’
Thrand narrowed his eyes, watching the movement of the sword. Narfi would try again. He fought dirty, relying on the trip and trick, rather than any real skill. But Narfi also left himself exposed every time he tried it. A question of patience and not giving in to frustration or anger.
Thrand gave Cwen a quick glance. Her face except for the streak of blood was completely white. Thrand’s blood boiled anew. He choked it back with difficulty and blocked another blow from Narfi, but Narfi also kept his distance, preventing Thrand from delivering the killing blow.
Sweat streamed down Thrand’s eyes, blurring his vision. The time was right. Risky, but he could force the issue. He pretended to sway and stumble as if he were disoriented and tired.
Unable to resist, Narfi came closer and once again stuck out his foot. Thrand deliberately crashed down. Narfi’s sword caught his back, sending a pain jolting through him but Thrand forced a roll and jammed his sword upwards.
With one fluid motion, Narfi fell, gave a gurgle. Thrand kicked the body to free his sword.
His men and Narfi’s were arranged about in a circle, silently watching. Thrand pointedly turned his gaze from Knui. Promise or no promise to Sven, the man had betrayed him and defied his leadership. A swift death was too good for him.
‘Lady Cwenneth is mine. Mine. Does anyone else fancy trying their luck?’
The cowards who passed for Narfi’s men started to back away, looking to save their hides. Thrand concentrated on breathing. Get them gone, before he dealt with Knui. And he wanted to know how many other of his men might betray him. In the silence which followed, the others began to beat their swords against their shields and proclaim their loyalty to him. The noise grew until the woods rang with sound and Narfi’s men had taken to their heels and fled.
‘Watch your back!’ Cwenneth called out. ‘Knui!’
Thrand pivoted and swiftly dispatched Knui, who had crept up on him with a drawn sword. Knui gave a soft gurgle and fell on top of Narfi.
‘I owe you a life debt, Cwen,’ he said, looking straight at her. The bleeding had stopped on her cheek. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and taste her lips again. ‘You saved me from having to execute him. Sven was blind to his defects.’
‘We are even, then. Narfi would have killed me, and the death he had planned would not have been quick or easy.’
‘We’re even,’ Thrand confirmed, bending down and cleaning his sword, rather than reaching out to her. Little things to occupy his mind and hands. He had come far too close to losing control and it had been his anger at what could happened to Cwen which spurred him on, rather than his desire for revenge or the knowledge that his men depended on him to get it right. And that scared him half to death.
Cwenneth rose unsteadily to her feet. Somewhere in the top of the tree, a bird started singing again, filling the air with joyous sound.
Knui and Narfi lay dead on the blood-soaked ground. They were the first men she had ever seen die violent deaths. Knui had betrayed her and would have killed Thrand. And Narfi would have tortured and murdered her.
Several violent shivers went through her. She lived, but the man who had started the slaughter breathed no more.
‘Are you all right, Cwen?’ Thrand asked. ‘You seem miles away. We need to get going before they return with reinforcements. Narfi will be left for the crows to pick over.’
‘And Knui? What happens to his body?’ she whispered, keeping her eyes averted from the bodies.
‘I regret that I ever allowed Knui on this expedition. I thought to honour my friend’s request, but Knui had the black heart of a traitor and deserved a traitor’s death.’
‘He tried to kill you.’
‘He knew that he had to or I would have killed him.’ Thrand’s face became hard. ‘Once he had allowed his greed to get the better of him, he was doomed.’
‘You suspected him.’
‘I distrusted him, but I never expected him to betray me or my men in this fashion. Sven would never have asked me to have Knui on this felag if he had suspected the full extent of his treachery. Some would say that Knui’s death was far swifter than he deserved.’
‘He had betrayed others?’
‘Hagal pays gold for betrayal, not out of the goodness of his heart. You heard Narfi the Black. They had done business together before.’
‘Narfi took pleasure in killing,’ Cwen said slowly, concentrating on the bodies rather than on Thrand’s hard face. ‘He spoke about getting a large meal after the slaughter. Do you ever feel like that? That killing makes you hungry? Do you need to eat?’
She wasn’t sure why she asked except Narfi’s statement yesterday had truly revolted her. Maybe if she knew Thrand was like Narfi, then this longing for Thrand would go. Maybe she would feel like she should find a way to escape from Thrand and get back to her old life, instead of having this small thrill that he had claimed her as his woman and had fought for her.
‘My appetite goes for days,’ Thrand replied. ‘The last thing I feel right now is physical hunger. All I feel is sorrow that two warriors are dead and all because of the greed of one man.’
Cwenneth nodded. A small piece of her rejoiced. He was not as depraved as Narfi. But it still did not make him safe or any less her enemy...her very temporary ally. ‘I’m trying hard to find pity in my heart for them, but I can’t. Goodness knows what sort of person that makes me.’
‘The line between revenge and justice is as fine as a hair.’
She bit her lip, hating that part of her had rejoiced at Narfi’s death. She never considered that she would be someone who enjoyed another’s demise.
‘I should be better. The priest at Lingwold would tell me I was wrong and any death diminishes me, but Narfi needed to die.’ She shook her head. ‘I suppose at least the worst one is dead. Justice of a sort for my men.’
‘No, the worst one remains alive,’ Thrand corrected with a stern gaze. ‘Do you think these men would have done what they did if Hagal hadn’t ordered them to? He keeps his hands clean, but his heart is black. I’ve no idea how many other warriors he has corrupted with his gold, but I can make a guess.’
‘Have I put you and your men in danger?’ she asked, putting her hand on Thrand’s sleeve. ‘They know you are in the area now. When I overheard Narfi and the other man speaking back in the woods, it was mentioned that they could not spread the rumour you had done this because you were in Jorvik with the king. But now Hagal will know before night falls. They will say you did it, not Hagal. They will make you into an outlaw.’
‘Only if we fail to make the Storting.’ Thrand slammed his fists together. ‘When they have reinforcements, they will come looking for us, in particular you. We go now.’
‘Why would they listen to me? All Hagal has to do is proclaim it was Narfi acting on his own and—’
‘Narfi would have slit his own mother’s throat if Hagal asked him to,’ Helgi called out. ‘Everyone knows whose creature he was. There are many in the Storting who reckon that he’d never bed a woman without asking his master’s permission.’
Cwennneth pressed her lips together. ‘Is that supposed to be reassuring?’
‘You are more of a threat to Hagal then ever. You know too much. You’re the proof that Hagal planned this. The king will listen to you and hear the truth in your words.’
‘I heard Knui say that he had taken Hagal’s gold previously for information,’ Cwenneth said. ‘There must be others who have taken gold. Surely they should be exposed.’
‘Exactly!’ Helgi said. ‘This woman of yours, Thrand, is more than a pretty face. She has a quicksilver mind. Thor has favoured us indeed.’
‘The proof of what?’ Cwenneth stared at him. ‘What does Hagal intend?’
‘The proof he inten
ds to move against the king. Or rather the king’s chosen successor when the king dies. Halfdan is gravely ill. Hagal knows that most of the inner circle distrust him. It is why he was sent to Acumwick, rather than being kept close in Jorvik. I suspect he intends to use your brother and his men in some way to assist his cause.’
‘My brother made peace with the Norsemen so he would not have to go to war again. This was what my marriage was about—a weaving of peace. He wants to remain at Lingwold for the birth of his child.’
‘Your brother is no stranger to war, though. The Lord of Lingwold can command an army. Hagal wants that army.’
‘Or maybe just the dowry he stole to pay off his bribes.’
‘If he needed that, he would have kept you alive so he could have had you beg your brother for more gold. How big was your dowry?’
She sucked in her breath. Norsemen politics sounded as precarious as Bernician. But Thrand was wrong. Edward had more respect for his men than to move directly against Halfdan. He still counted the cost of the last war.
‘More than it should have been,’ Cwenneth admitted with a sigh. ‘My sister-in-law grumbled about it, but my brother thought it was a small price to pay if he no longer had to worry about paying Danegeld every year to you.’
‘Your brother has never paid me Danegeld.’ Thrand leant down and picked up his sword, cleaning it on Knui’s cloak. ‘We met in battle and that was all. I went south and killed for my king there. It is where I collected my gold.’
‘He swears he pays it to Thrand the Destroyer. Grumbles every single time. “That misbegotten Norse raider” is probably the kindest thing he has said about you.’
Thrand frowned. ‘Hagal has held the north since the end of the last war. If anyone demanded payment, it will be one of his men. They simply used my name to extract money.’
‘Yes, that bothered Narfi.’ Cwenneth shook her head. ‘And my husband would have slain Hagal’s kinsman in battle, rather than in cold blood. It is the fortune of war. There is a difference.’
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