“Oh yes, Halvar! I do not want to wait for all the rituals that must take place before we wed the way our people do! The Christians’ way will be perfect.”
“That settles it, then,” he said, satisfied. “Our friends here will be happy to know of our decision. This way of doing things is new to us but it is not so strange to them. They will rejoice with us.”
Halvar kissed Eira again, lingering over her lips with his. “I will remember these kisses,” he said. “The memory will keep me warm at night until we can be together again.”
“The days will go slowly,” Eira said. “I will spend them thinking of you, my love.”
Halvar reached into his pocket and drew out a small object wrapped in cloth. “This is for you,” he said.
Eira carefully unwrapped the cloth to reveal an intricately carved, silver bracelet.
“Oh, Halvar, this is friðr!” she exclaimed, holding out her arm.
He took it from her hand and slid it over her wrist. “I am glad you like it,” he said, pleasure on his face.
“I shall treasure it. Whenever I am missing you, I will look at this lovely baugr and remember your words.”
“Now I must leave to prepare for the journey,” Halvar said, kissing her again. “I will return in the morning to say goodbye before we leave.”
CHAPTER 4
T aft looked around at the men he’d gathered to help him defeat the village of Myrkvior Fjall. They were mostly younger men but there were enough battle-hardened warriors among them to put the fear into any enemy. He smirked. Finally, he was about to take revenge on Halvar. He would be rid of the loathsome man once and for all. And no daughter of his was going to get away with the kind of defiance that Kaarina had shown by running away. She was in for the beating of her life when he caught her. He, Taft, would be undefeated and no one would dare to challenge him again.
“We must be ready to leave at daylight,” he told the men. “Njǫror2 has smiled upon us and sent warm weather to melt the snow.”
That night, he and his men camped close to the boundaries of Myrkvior Fjall in a disused barn.
“We will strike the village at daylight,” Taft told the men. “Remember, we want to take Kaarina alive and kill Halvar. If we need to, we’ll burn them out.”
Before daylight, the men crept towards the unsuspecting village on foot. Horses would be too noisy and might alert the villagers to their presence. As they reached the edge of the forest, Taft paused and they stood there in complete silence. Nothing stirred in the dim light and Taft felt rage mixed with a savage desire for revenge as he gazed upon the place that had led to his humiliation. A grim smile of satisfaction spread across his face as he pictured victory over the man who had defeated him the first time. He motioned to the men and they spread out in a noiseless advance upon the sleeping village.
“TYR3!!!”
The shock of the war cry shattered the village forever. Canute leapt to his feet and grabbed his weapons on the way out the door but it was to no avail. Within minutes, three men were dead outside their homes and horrific screams pierced through the din of battle as the village burned and the villagers tried to escape.
“Where is she?”
A huge hand seized Canute and he whirled around to face his attacker, axe about to strike.
“Taft!” he exclaimed in surprise.
“Where is she?” Taft demanded again.
“Kaarina?”
“Yes, you fool. Answer me before I kill you!”
“Kaarina is not here. Halvar took her away where she would be safe.”
Taft roared with rage and shoved Canute so hard that he fell to his knees.
“Where did they go?” he yelled.
“That I know not,” Canute replied. “If you have killed our men and destroyed our village in the search for those two, it has been in vain.” He rose to his feet and spat in disgust.
Taft was shaking with rage. “That little whore is no longer my kin,” he roared. “I reject the bikkja completely!” He stormed towards two warriors who were standing over a man on his knees, axes raised to strike the fatal blow.
“Knud! Sten!” he bellowed.
The two men looked up from their murderous task.
“Leave that worthless pig alone. Go and round up as many young women as you can. We will sell them at the slave market.”
“As you wish, Taft,” one of the men replied.
“We are wasting our time here,” Taft spat in disgust. “Halvar and his whore are not here. We will take the slaves and return to our village. At least we will get some money for them.”
“We could not find any young women,” Knud reported to Taft half an hour later. “They have been killed by the fire or have run away.”
“Then we shall leave,” Taft ordered.
As they disappeared back into the forest, Taft turned for a last look at the fiery ruins of the village. Several bodies lay in front of the burning longhouses and flames leapt from the barns. It was gratifying to know that he’d destroyed the home of his enemy and made it uninhabitable. It didn’t matter to him if the villagers starved; they deserved their fate. They should never have supported Halvar as their leader. Taft might not have achieved what he came to do but the destruction was satisfying nonetheless. Halvar would have to wait for another time.
Halvar’s horse stumbled
