Wolfsangel

19

Drengi had arrived in time to at least face the invaders. He was a farmer not a fighter though, and he was lying by a feed trough with his own axe embedded in his chest. The old Dane Barth had been shown no mercy by his countrymen and was slumped next to him as if dozing in the sun. Little Manni was dead at the doorway of Disa’s house, Vali’s old seax still in his hand.

Vali closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. He had no time for mourning; he needed to find what had happened to Adisla and her mother. He ran into the smouldering building. The Danes had tried to set it alight but the turf roof would not burn well and the smoke looked more like that from a dung heap than a fire. Disa had been murdered in her bed. Blood was everywhere, a grisly scarf of red extending down the front of her white smock. He approached and saw that her throat was cut. He could imagine all too well what else had happened to her.

Vali knelt beside her and took her hand. She had been his mother, or the nearest he had to one. He said nothing. So far that day he had learned what it was to believe in a fight and take up arms in a cause that was beyond plunder. Looking into Disa’s eyes, it seemed impossible that he would ever do anything else. He did not cry, which surprised him. There was something inside him too cold for tears. It was a certainty that seemed to lodge in his throat like a bolus, stopping up any emotion. He would have vengeance for this. Adisla had told him to kill a hundred of them. He wouldn’t stop there. He would kill the Danish king and all his stinking race, tear down his halls and burn his lands to ashes. The Danes had unleashed a wolf by what they had done. He had never known such purpose in all his life. But first he had something else to do.

He went to the top of the bed and kissed Disa on the forehead.

‘I will find her,’ he said and then left the house. As he did so he passed the boy’s body. He ruffled his hair and kissed him. He went to take the seax but thought better of it. Instead, he just squeezed the child’s fingers onto the weapon’s handle. ‘You keep it,’ he said, ‘use it in the afterlife. Go to Freya’s halls, not Odin’s.’

Vali heard a groan. He looked up. Drengi was still alive. He ran over to the fallen man.

‘Drengi, it’s me, Vali.’

Drengi was just about breathing, the axe had caused a terrible wound in his chest and his mouth bubbled with blood.

Vali didn’t know what to do. Disa or Jodis might have known, but one was dead and the other who knows where.

‘Drengi, you’ll live. I’ve seen men with worse wounds survive. You will live.’

This was not true and they both knew it.

‘They came for her, Vali; they came for her.’

‘I know.’

‘No, they came for her. No treasure, no plunder, her.’ He let out an awful cough, fighting to suck in breath. Vali’s mind was too disordered to take in what Drengi was saying.

‘You’ll be fine, Drengi. I’ll fetch Ma Jodis and she’ll patch you up. You see, you’ll be fine.’

‘Vali, they were looking for her. They asked for the healer’s daughter.’

Vali couldn’t understand why that would be at all.

‘Asked who?’

‘They had taken the boy Loptr prisoner. He led them here and told them who to look for. They were shouting her name.’ He coughed and blood flowed over his lips.

‘Is the boy dead too?’

‘No, he ran away. Remove the axe, Vali. Take the axe away. It is a blight to me.’

‘Yes.’

Vali put two hands to the shaft near the head. He pulled and Drengi screamed. He pulled again and the axe came free. Drengi coughed and spluttered, hacked and wheezed. Then he was quiet. Vali took his hand. He was dead.

Vali became aware he was being watched. He looked up to see Loptr peering out from behind a pig shelter.

‘You can come out now, child. They’ve gone,’ said Vali.

The boy didn’t move. He looked very scared.

‘Did they take her? Did they take Adisla?’

The boy nodded.

‘Which way?’

The child pointed at the track heading south out of the farmstead that led to several broad beaches. If the Danes had got their ships away from the harbour, they might pick up stragglers there.

‘Go back down to the harbour,’ said Vali. ‘If you encounter any of our warriors, tell them I’ve gone down to Selstrond to find these pirates. And tell them to come and help me. Quick. Go on!’

The boy didn’t move, just stared at him. It was no use, Vali decided. Loptr was too shocked by what he’d seen to do anything. ‘Well, don’t go into Ma Disa’s house,’ said Vali, and he set off for the beach.

When he arrived, the shoe told him all he needed to know. It was where the track petered out in the sand, just at the point that anyone coming onto the beach would find it. It was hers, one of the green leather best she had been wearing to greet him back from his journey. Clearly she had kicked it off.

He was only just too late — the longship was close offshore. He couldn’t see Adisla but there were around twenty warriors visible on the boat. Still he didn’t really absorb Drengi’s words: ‘Vali, they were looking for her.’ His brain was hot with hatred and he didn’t even recall what Drengi had said.

‘Come back, you cowards!’ he screamed. ‘I am one and you are twenty. Are the odds not enough in your favour?’

There was no reply from the ship; the Danes were too busy with their sail. But then, for a heatbeat, he saw her, struggling to dive overboard and swim to freedom. She was pulled roughly back onto the boat.

‘I’ll find you!’ he screamed as he splashed out into the water. ‘And know, Danes, that if she is harmed I’ll visit a thousand times worse on you and your kinsmen! I am Vali, son of Authun. I am death to you!’

Vali felt utterly hopeless. There was no prospect of pursuit. Forkbeard’s longships were away down the coast at the regional assembly; all they had were a few faerings — four-oared inshore boats — and he couldn’t chase a warship in one of those.

How would he find her? He’d try Haithabyr, he thought, the market where any slave brought to Denmark ended up. He could buy her, if he could raise the money from his father or borrow it from Forkbeard. Then he remembered: he had the berserk. He would get what he wanted to know out of him. He turned back towards the site of the battle.

When he found Bjarki he was in no fit state to answer questions. The drugs, drink and the bang on the head had rendered him almost insensible. All he could do was curse and drool. He was safe for the time being but Vali wondered how long he would last if any of the townspeople got hold of him. Preserving the berserk’s life was his only key to finding Adisla. The man was too big to drag anywhere without help. Luckily, up the hill at that moment came Bragi with two farmers, Gudfastr and Baugr, Loptr beside them. So he had done his job after all.

‘How does it go?’ said Vali.

‘They’re routed. One ship captured — a good day’s work.’ Bragi didn’t look quite as jubilant as Vali might have expected.

‘They’ve taken Adisla. Ma Disa’s dead, and the rest of them at the house from what I can tell.’

Bragi’s mouth fell open. ‘Anyone else?’

‘I don’t know. They were quick so I think it unlikely. They didn’t take him, did they?’ He nodded to the boy, who was still looking at Vali with wide terrified eyes.

‘They were being quick, for sure, or they wouldn’t have left the boy. He’d have got a good price at market. You’ll want vengeance, won’t you, Loptr?’ said Bragi.

The boy said nothing, just withdrew behind Baugr.

‘Get that berserk down into the village,’ said Vali. ‘He’s got some questions to answer. As soon as he recovers, let me know. Tell the people that by my command there will be no celebration until Forkbeard returns. Make them keep a watch. Two drakkars escaped and may well return if they think we imagine the danger is past.’

He turned away down the hill, towards the valley.

‘Where are you going?’ said Bragi.

‘To see Ma Jodis,’ said Vali.