`That's what we do, you arse,' answered Hedin Flayer, punching him on the arm.
I left them to chew on it, for I had another problem — what to do with the badly wounded. One was already shaking with wound-fever and the other was hamstrung, would never walk properly again, though he could still sit a horse.
The fevered one was an old oarmate called Ofeig, the one who had stepped on the raven claw, I realised.
Such a simple little wound, a nithing cut that had come to this in half a day, no more. There was, then, some poison there and I made a mental note to warn the men who scattered them to take more care, then felt ashamed for reeling with future plans while a good man lay dying.
Brother John sat with him, placing damp cloths on his forehead and muttering his healing chants, crossing himself and clasping his hands. 'I pray to Earth and High Heaven, the sun and St Mary and Lord God himself, that he grant me medicinal hands and healing tongue to heal Ofeig of the shivering disease.
From back and from breast, from body and from limb, from eyes and from ears, from wherever evil can enter him. .
It wasn't about to make a hacksilver of difference. Finn knelt on the other side and Ofeig opened his eyes and grinned weakly, while the sweat oozed from him like water from a ripe cheese.
I had expected a prettier Valkyrie,' he said, knowing well what was coming.
Finn nodded soberly. No Valkyries were pretty, we knew. They came riding wolves to heave the chosen dead away, savage and merciless — but there was a time for gentle lying.
`There is one waiting,' he said in a voice as soft as any new lamb. 'She has hair the colour of red-gold, breasts like pillows, eyes only for you and wonders what is taking you so long.'
His great, calloused hand closed over the brow of Ofeig, who stiffened — then a fresh spasm of shivering took him.
`Fair journey, Ofeig,' said Finn and his other hand stroked the razor edge across Ofeig's throat, then held him down, the blood spreading slowly over his chest, bubbling in spurts like a hot spring as he choked and died, congealing like thick gruel.
After a while, Finn straightened, wiping first his hands, then the blade — the one I had given him, that he had called the Priest — on Ofeig's breeks. He looked at me over the dead eyes. 'Next time, you do it,' he said and I was ashamed, remembering how Einar had done it when he lived. It was a jarl-task right enough.
`You can piss off coming for me,' growled Sumarlidi, the one with the cut hamstring, hauling himself to a sitting posture and jerking out his scramseax. 'I have one good leg left and after that I can still crawl.'
`Then crawl to your horse and get on it,' I snapped at him, and get ready to ride hard.'
`Hop to it,' added Finn and wheezed with laughter.
We huddled just under the brow of the ridge, so that if I raised my head only a little, I could see the silhouette of buildings, the dominating dome of the church of the Archangel Michael and the yellow glow of lights and fires, which only made the chill of the night wind colder and the dark blacker than ever.
When the leprous moon started to cast a shadow in between the shrouds of dark cloud, I gave a signal and the men rose up to a crouch and started to filter down the hill, scuttling like beetles. The scuff and clink of them made me wince, certain someone would hear it, but no alarm was sounded, and then we were crossing the first of the rickety fences, into the garden plots behind some houses.
Finn turned to grin at me and I saw he had his Roman nail in his teeth, one of the metal spikes he had used to mark out the
He spat the nail into his hand and threw back his head, howling like a mad wolf. The cry went up from all our throats, then we lurched forward into the houses.
I trotted forward, heading for the church, hearing the panicked screams and shrieks as the Oathsworn ripped through the village. I passed some huts and houses, heard doors crack under axes, the thump of booted feet and screams. A robed figure skidded round the side of a building, slammed into a mud wall, looking back over his shoulder. Then he turned, saw me and ran back the way he had come, straight into a skewering spear.
A woman screamed and, through the door, I saw her flung to the ground, two men frantically fumbling down their breeches and I cursed. It would be the Danes, who hadn't tasted that sweetness in five years. I should have planned for that.
I trotted across the square, saw Finn and yelled to him. Sighvat burst out of a building, saw me and ran across, laughing. Hookeye appeared, an arrow nocked and his bow straining. He grinned in a wolfish way and looked like he had been caught with his hand in my purse for a moment, then shrugged. The four of us headed for the dark entrance to the church, a narrow way only one man wide.
It was far too late, for the smart ones had already gone in and barred the door and the church had been designed as a refuge. The narrow entrance was a passage, which sloped down, then up to a stout door, making a ram impossible to use. On the roof above, I saw holes and barely jumped aside as a spearhead thrust down, then back, like the tongue of a snake.
Keeping to the sides, we slid up, studied the door, then slithered our backs down the wall to the entrance and out. I wandered to the middle of the village square, to a well surrounded by a series of water troughs, stopped and sat down, resting my shield on my knees and my sword on one shoulder, listening to the shrieks and screams, seeing the figures flit like dark bats. Then there was the bright flare of flame and a roof collapsed.
Finn growled and I wearily nodded. He trotted off, dragging Hookeye with him, who seemed inclined to stay near me, yelling at them to put the fire out or he would tear their arms off and beat out the flames with the wet ends.
It's a fortress, that gods-cursed Christ dome,' Sighvat said. `We'll have to burn them out.'
`No,' I said. 'Same problem as last time. . what we want is in there and will burn with them.'
`We can burn the door, same as last time,' he answered and rose, cupped water in his hands and splashed his face. Shaking himself like a dog, he wandered off, looking to drag a few others into fetching dry wood and anything that would burn.
Two figures, laughing and yelling, chased a shrieking woman from a house and Sighvat polearmed one of them to the ground; he was Arnfinn, an old hand, I saw. His friend skidded to a halt, confused.
I need you pair,' he said and Arnfinn's companion, seeing the woman shrieking round a corner and gone, snarled at Sighvat for the loss.
`Who made you a chief?' he growled, hefting a bloody axe.
`He did,' said Sighvat amiably, jerking a thumb at me. I waved. 'And this did,' he added, slamming the flat of his blade into the man's mouth. He went over spitting teeth and blood. Arnfinn got to his feet and grinned, shamed now at behaving like a raw beginner.
`Didn't expect that when you said to grab the woman, eh, Lambi?' he chuckled, hauling the bloody-mouthed man to his feet. 'What is it that you are wanting us for, Sighvat?'
While Sighvat explained, I heard hoofs and nearly wet myself, then I saw Brother John and the Goat Boy leading in the horses, the wounded Sumarlidi waving a spear while holding a shield and trying to keep his balance, for he was no good rider.
`Help me down, help me down,' he snarled. 'It's too far off the ground up here.'
Brother John and I dragged him down and the Goat Boy gawped at what was going on round him.
`You should have kept him away from sights like this,' grumbled Sumarlidi to Brother John as he dragged himself to the edge of the well. That leg of his, I saw, was ruined completely, a useless thing that might as well not be there at all, for it served no purpose for him now and was a dead weight he'd drag about for the rest of his life.
I think he is well used to them already,' Brother John declared.
If I knew what it meant, I would know more,' answered Sumarlidi. There was a pause as the burning house fell in with a roar and a cloud of flying embers. Finn yelled and cuffed left and right.
It means people are always fighting in these lands,' I told Sumarlidi. 'How's the leg?'
Useless,' he grunted and eyed me warily. 'But stay a blade length from me, Bear Slayer — I want no Valkyrie visits just yet.'
