called a mosque. The Strategos had handed this over to Skarpheddin as his hov for the while, but Skarpheddin was no fool, I saw, for he had not entered it, but had pitched a great swathe of tents instead, made from the striped wadmal of his sails, to remind him of what he had lost.
He knew that not all Mussulmen were enemy and did not want to outrage those still in Antioch by defiling one of their holy places, yet you would not have guessed all this cunning from the sight of this jarl, once ruler of Raknehaugen in Norway.
I came on him in his tent-hov, where he sat on a good seat, with the snarling prows rescued from his best ship on either side. Once he had been a powerful man, but never tall. Now he was a thin-shanked ale barrel wearing fine cloth the colour of the sea on a clear day and his hair was streaked with more grey than red.
Gold glinted on his chest and arms, though, and on the rings at wrist and ankle, for his feet were bare as he leaned forward for Olvar to whisper in his ear.
Then he looked up, frowning slightly and stroking the considerable length of his frosted red-gold beard, which had been forked into many plaits and fastened with silver rings.
`You are young,' he declared, leaning an elbow on one knee and cupping his chin. 'Younger than I thought, for I have heard of both you and the Oathsworn, though I thought Einar the Black led them still and had a young Baldur-hero join him, the slayer of a white bear. Now, it seems, young Baldur is the leader.'
If he had heard all that, he had heard also tales of a hoard of silver and more and my heart lurched. I could smell the greed-sickness off him from here, but swallowed and inclined my head politely enough.
I am that bear slayer,' I said 'though my name is Orm. This is Sighvat Deep-Minded and Radoslav, who is called Schchuka.'
From behind Skarpheddin, I heard a sibilant hiss and, for an unnerving moment, thought he had broken wind. Then I realised the sound came from a woman and Skarpheddin half turned as she came out of the twilight of the tent to where we all could see her.
My skin crawled at once. She was old, but had her hair unbound, falling in iron-grey straggle-tails to her shoulders. She wore a dress the colour of blue twilight in the far north, fastened at the waist with a belt looped like a man's and hung about with all manner of things: a couple of drawstring purses; the skull of a small animal; the tail bones of a snake. Round her neck was a circle of amber beads big as gull eggs.
But it was the catskin cloak thrown round her shoulders that let me know what she was: that and the seidr flowing off her so that the hairs on my arms stood up, as if a storm was coming. I had made a sign against evil before I'd thought of it and she gave a short laugh, like a dog barking.
`Do you fear this
I found my tongue locked to the roof of my mouth, but it was Sighvat who spared me with a calm answer, as if he were greeting her politely as an ordinary woman.
`There is nothing to fear as long as I am here,' he said levelly and Skarpheddin chuckled at the woman's frown, while both of them eyed the pair of ravens that Sighvat now took everywhere perched on his shoulders. Used to them, I suddenly saw it from the other side and how it marked Sighvat as a full-cunning man, one of seidr power himself, which was why the rest of the crew both respected and looked sideways at him; for a man to dabble in seidr was considered strange and unmanly.
`Well, Thorhalla,' said Skarpheddin, finally. 'It seems the Bear Slayer is well served' with his own seidr And that,' he added, pointing to Radoslav's tattoo, 'is a useful mark to have, I am thinking.'
Radoslav grinned. 'Your witch spells won't work on me,' he boasted. 'I am Perun's man and his hand is strong over me.'
Thorhalla hissed like the cats she wore and made a movement of her fingers.
Now, now, old one,' Skarpheddin chided with false bravado, `that's enough of that. These are guests.'
Then, as the woman slid back into the shadows, he spread his hands in apology. 'Forgive my mother. She clings to the old ways and too many of my people are considering Christ here.'
His mother. At once I felt pity for Skarpheddin doubled from before. Here he was, exiled and wasting away in a foreign land and, like bitter gall on the rotten meat of it, he had a — mother like that, a real
After that came the hard talk and I knew Skarpheddin wanted us, not only for what he had heard of our skills, but for what he had heard of the hoard. I told him we were new-sworn Christ-men, heading for Jorsalir with our own Christ priest and he nodded, frowning. I could feel his own greed-plans ooze from him like sweat.
I am of the Aesir,' he added, with a mild smile, 'and though prime-signed for Christ I will offer my help, of course. If you were to place your hands in mine, naturally I would be oath-bound then to provide aid.'
I thanked him for that, but told him I did not want any more oaths than the one I had already taken to my sword-brothers, at which he frowned. I did not tell him it was an Odin-oath, but let him think it one made to the White Christ. I added that I would be pleased to accept his hospitality and, when our task was done, would return. If he were then to offer a fair price for our services for a season, as the Basileus in Miklagard had done with him, then that was another matter and closer to my heart.
He brightened at that: the idea of being like the Basileus in Miklagard appealed and so he did not quibble, which was a relief. This meant my men had the chance of free food and ale for the time it took to find out what was needed — where Starkad and our old oarmates were — and did not fasten us to this doomed jarl.
Skarpheddin then said my men could find warm beds and hospitality both in the tents of his own hov and those of others in his company. I saw that shoal and steered round it, saying my men preferred to stay with their own ship, which had been their hov for so long; I did not want the men split up and scattered in a strange camp. Einar would have been proud of me.
After that, we were horn-paired round two large firepits and feasted, while the abilities and far-sighted vision of Skarpheddin were hailed by a skald and his skill and bravery lauded by men with grease-glistening faces and hefty roast ribs in their hand. Red-faced and bellowing, they declared Jarl Skarpheddin the finest ring-giver who had stepped on the earth each time a glowing woman refilled the horns.
My horn partner was Torvald, one of Skarpheddin's chosen men, but he was dark and dour and I looked all night for the girl they called Svala, so we had little to say to each other.
Next day, bleary-eyed and hurting, I went down to the river with Radoslav and, shivering in the morning chill, we sloughed off the ale and grease. When I straightened, scattering water like a dog, she was standing there, a hip arched and a wry smile on her face. I was aware that I stood wearing nothing but drenched small-clothes.
Odin's arse,' roared Radoslav, surfacing and blowing like a bull seal. 'But that feels better. . Oh, I didn't see you there.'
Grinning, he sloshed naked out of the river and stood drying himself while Slava raised an eyebrow and managed not to turn a hair doing it. She was, I noted, older than I was by a year, perhaps two.
`You are smaller than you look,' she said tartly to Radoslay. `Perhaps you should get the Helm of Awe tattooed on something lower.'
Radoslav chuckled. 'It's only the cold, girl. It will grow bolder, like a chick rescued from snow, in the warmth of a loving hand.'
She snorted. 'Your own, I am sure.'
I liked her and she saw me grinning.
I came to tell you that your priest, Brother John, and the man with the face like a fresh-gelded horse are looking for you. They said to tell you the Goat Boy is in good hands. Is he the little one they carried to the Greek chirurgeons?'
I nodded, pulling on my breeks and wondering if she dared face Finn with her description of him. In the end, as she smiled sadly over the plight of the Goat Boy, I decided she probably would.
Is he badly hurt?' she asked.
I told her what had happened to us on the Cyprus shore — missing out what had brought us to it — and her eyes widened. I thought I saw something new there towards me, but I was probably wrong.
`Thank you for letting me know,' I said politely. 'Do you know where Olvar is? I would like him to come with us into the city, for I am thinking a guide would be a good thing there.'
She wrinkled her nose. 'You don't need Olvar. I will take you.'
`Perhaps your mother would not like that,' Radoslav offered, `seeing as how going off with two handsome
