‘Here’s an idea,’ said Astarth, ‘we get the monk to eat it first.’
‘Good plan,’ said Varn. ‘Shall we give him some now?’
‘He’s not having any from my share,’ said Egil.
‘Your share of poisoned meat?’ said Astarth.
‘Still my share,’ said Egil.
‘I’d say by the look of him he’s eaten some. The man doesn’t look well.’
Jehan looked around him. There was something strange about the light. It seemed more intense, the colours more vivid. The snow was no longer an even white. A sheen lay upon it, subtle, barely perceptible, with splashes of greens, reds and browns and around them an iridescence as the weak light split the water crystals to rainbows. And the walls of the monastery were slick and wet with colour. The colours brought smells: plants that he recognised as belonging to the woods of Paris on the skin of the Vikings, the piss and shit of animals and humans, frozen mosses and moulds, the iron of the rust that streaked down from a horse ring sunk in the stone, the wet wood of the trough that stood next to it, the sweetness and corruption on the breath of the men, the death stink on the corpses that hung on their stolen clothes, where it mingled in with the living sweat and grime of the berserkers. It was intriguing to him, and lovely. The world seemed gloriously stained. Only the pale girl at his side had no odour, no sweat, no signature.
‘You should soak us, monk. That way we’d get a haul like this every day,’ said Varn.
‘No one’s pouring water on me in this weather,’ said Egil
‘How do you go about it if it’s cold?’ said Varn. ‘They soak babies, you know. In their freezing churches in the middle of winter. I’m surprised it doesn’t kill half of them.’
‘It’s a way of sorting out the tough ones,’ said Astarth. ‘If the kid cries they leave it out on the hills, and that’s true because my uncle told me.’
They were talking about God, Jehan realised. God. The words from the Bible did not come easily to him now. He tried to think of a line, a prayer, a song, to clear his simmering head.
‘Father, why have you forsaken me?’
‘What?’ said Ofaeti.
‘He’s raving,’ said Egil. ‘Leave him here.’
Ofaeti shook his head. ‘There are twenty kinds of enemy between here and the north coast, and he may be able to help us with half of them. Tie him to a horse and stick another cloak on him. He’ll freeze if he doesn’t move. Come on. We’ll scout a river out from the high ground and take it north. If we can buy or pinch a boat, we’ll get through. We’ll be face down in our ale in the halls of the Horda before the month’s out.’
Jehan felt himself lifted, as he’d been lifted many times before. This time it took two berserkers to get him into the saddle.
‘What’s he been eating?’ said Varn.
‘Stone, by the weight of him.’
‘You’re a hardy man, monk,’ said Ofaeti. ‘Even if you have eaten poison I’ll bet you’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.’
Jehan’s hands were loosely tied to the pommel, his feet bound to the stirrups, and then the berserkers were on their way, heading back down the pass. Jehan glanced to his left. The girl with hate in her eyes walked beside him. He had the sense that she was happy with the direction they were travelling.
‘What is your name?’ he said. She did not reply, but for some reason a name came into his head, a name that seemed to trail a hundred others behind it. Svava. It meant nothing to Jehan. He could tell hardly anything about the girl, form no impression of her. He only knew that she hated him and he felt bound to follow her wherever she chose to go.
42
Aelis had to be wary as she headed north. She needed to get a boat downriver to the coast and from there go east. Her only hope was that the wolfman had been speaking the truth. She had to believe he had. He had nearly given his life for her twice, may in fact have given it already. And she sensed no dishonesty in him at all, unlike in the little man who rode beside her.
Of course she was careful. She refused to let Leshii sleep near her at night, leaving him to guard the horses while she found a place to hide. If he couldn’t find her then he couldn’t kill her no matter how many ravens came to warp his mind. A bigger problem would be getting hold of a boat. They needed to buy one outright and travel alone. She could not explain her odd behaviour to others and could not camp with any party of traders or pilgrims she encountered.
As it was, Leshii came up with the solution. He did a deal with a river family to take their boat down to the sea. There was no room for the horses so Leshii sold them at what, he kept repeating, was a scandalously low price. The problem was that there was only one buyer. He came from a day’s travel away and had only a few deniers. It was a question of take it or leave it. The man didn’t want the mule and Leshii was not about to leave the animal for whoever found it. He took it aboard and it settled down well enough after some initial coaxing. A boy and his two uncles followed in another vessel, to bring their boat back when they reached the sea. The men were fishermen not farmers, so there was no substantial spring planting to be done and they were glad to take the payment.
Leshii explained that Aelis was a young monk travelling east and preparing for the life of a hermit so would need to be alone to pray at night. The fishermen were not curious sorts and asked no more questions, though their gaze did linger on the sword at Aelis’s side.
The weather broke as they travelled north, iron-black clouds igniting with halos of sunlight before blowing away to leave a clear and cold blue sky. The meltwater had gone and the river’s flow was slower but still enough to take them on at a good pace.
Aelis sat in the boat huddled under her cloak. The enormous change her life had undergone since leaving Paris had come home to her and she found herself shivering and rocking, not just with the cold.
The river narrowed and broadened, bent and straightened; they passed through small settlements and larger ones where curious villagers stood on the banks to see them pass. Many of the people looked very poor, their clothes tattered and torn, a number with limbs missing or leaning for support on their fellows. The houses too were mean things, flimsy-looking, many of them burned shells. Norsemen had been there and the land was shattered. Why did King Charles buy the Vikings off? she wondered. He should have driven them out.
Leshii was puzzled. ‘They have enough traders on this river. I don’t know why they look at us as if we had the many heads of Triglav.’
‘Who is Triglav?’
‘A horse god of my people. Four heads. His worship has fallen into disuse. Helgi holds the horse in contempt and prefers to fight on foot. He won’t have the animals worshipped in his lands.’
‘What do you know of Helgi?’
‘He’s a Viking, but not from the same place as the lot besieging your brother.’
‘How many did he slaughter to win his crown?’
‘None. His ancestors conquered Ladoga, then we overthrew them and set up our own king, or rather kings. We are a fractious people, lady, many loyalties of tribe and family. We could agree nothing. So we invited the Norsemen back to rule us.’
‘You asked them to make you slaves?’
‘Not slaves, subjects. There are no ancient grudges against the Norsemen. When the Norseman makes a decision he does it on the facts, not to spite one tribe or favour another. It was for the best, and we have prospered under his rule. Helgi attacked the lands to the south and established Novgorod, which is to be the new capital when it’s completed, and Kiev, which suffered badly under the rule of two wild Varangians, Askold and Dir.’
Aelis shook her head. ‘You are not a proud people to invite another race to rule you.’
‘We are too proud. That was the problem. We’d take a thousand indignities from a foreigner before we took
