Tears of the Wolf (Wrath and Weeping #1)

Chapter 18 Cenric

Cenric

“Valdari ship! Valdari ship!” Kalen came racing along the riverbank, full speed toward Cenric and the other men.

“Where?” Edric demanded, straightening. There was a wild, almost eager light in the short man’s eyes. It had been some time since they’d had a good battle.

They’d finished bringing in the barley and threshing it over the past several days. All of them were glad to be done with that.

Today they were salting fish and packing them into barrels. The past few days had been an unusually good catch and the boys responsible for the fishing boats had asked for help. Cenric and all his men were in the sheds near the docks, up to their elbows in scales and fish guts.

Kalen pointed back the way he had come. “Coming up the river! With red sails!”

“Red sails?” Cenric already had his sword in his hand—he never went anywhere without it this time of year—but that gave him pause. “How many ships?”

“Only one, lord,” Kalen panted.

Cenric glanced to Edric.

“It could be him. Or not.” Something in the way Edric said it suggested he was hoping for the latter.

Cenric grinned at his friend, but he didn’t sheath his sword. If it was raiders, they’d chosen an unlucky time. All the village’s men happened to be here along the riverbank. If they’d come hoping for easy prey, they would be disappointed.

Not to mention they had a sorceress to heal anyone who was injured. Cenric was hardly worried as he strode out from the shed with his thanes following behind.

Several voices called out, but no one seemed to be panicked just yet. At the sight of Cenric striding calmly along the beach, the people calmed, though they backed away.

Friends? Snapper appeared from wherever he had been napping, excitement shivering through his furry body.

The ship came into sight—a thing of beauty with seventeen oars, same as the number of steeds owned by the First of Fathers, Havnar, the king of the gods. The usual wolf head prow of a Valdari ship was replaced by the likeness of a deer so as not to frighten the good spirits in friendly waters.

The vessel neared slowly, its shields hanging on the sides. These were men in a friendly harbor, not raiders.

Cenric recognized the ship before he recognized the figure perched near its prow. Not sheathing his sword, he raised his voice to be heard across the water. “Who dares to sail into my lands?”

Thirty-four rowers manned the ship, crouched over the oars. Several other figures moved to and fro, at least two women.

The figure near the prow was a large man, a full head and shoulders above most. The wolf’s pelt around his shoulders made him look even larger and broader than he was. Silver and gold rings banded his massive forearms. He swept a bow to Cenric with a grin. “Only us poor travelers come to exploit your hospitality and delightful company.”

Edric made a disappointed sound from behind Cenric. No fights today, at least not the sort the red-haired man had been hoping for.

“Presumptuous, as always.” Cenric allowed himself to grin back at the Valdari. “Kalen, show them where they can dock.”

Kalen stepped a little apart, signaling to the man at the prow and led the way, jogging down the riverbank.

Snapper raced after him, barking. Hróarr! Vana! Friends!

One of Cenric’s first constructions after becoming alderman had been a series of docks so that ships didn’t need to be dragged ashore for loading and unloading. Though they still stored the ships on land over winter, it had made life much easier during the warmer months.

Cenric finally sheathed his sword. Word had begun to spread through the village, but no alarm had been raised. Hróarr tended to inspire excitement and curiosity.

The ship docked and Cenric walked to meet it. Some of the thanes he sent back to work, but Edric walked with him to meet Hróarr.

The big man was the first to leap from his ship and to the docks. He paused to help a svelte woman down after him.

“Snapper! How are you, you mighty beast?” Hróarr rubbed Snapper’s sides, scooping him up like he weighed no more than a rabbit. He wrestled with the dog, Snapper’s tail thrashing wildly while his thoughts squealed with delight.

Hróarr! Hróarr here!

Hróarr finally set the dog down and bounded to meet Cenric on the shore.

“Cenric!” Hróarr met Cenric in an embrace that was more a grapple than a hug. They both squeezed, each one trying to push the other off balance, laughing.

They shoved until they were out of breath and had to either let go, or wrestle on the ground. They clasped forearms, shaking in the more traditional way.

Cenric laughed, slipping into the Valdari language. “Ah, it’s good to see you, brother.”

They were cousins, but Cenric had known Hróarr far better than his own siblings. They’d been raised together, though Hróarr was a few years younger. In Cenric’s mind, Hróarr was his little brother. The dead men who had been his father’s sons were strangers.

“I couldn’t miss Blydmoth, now could I?” Hróarr scoffed, like the thought had never occurred to him, also switching into Valdari.

“I’ll be happy to have the extra hands for the slaughter,” Cenric replied.

“You know me and my men are always good for a bit of bloodletting.” Hróarr chuckled at his own joke. “Vana, my beauty.”

The woman from before joined them. Her hair had been gathered and tied back with gold rings at her temples and a narrow gold torque around her neck. Hróarr must be doing well for her to be so well dressed.

Vana stepped up beside Hróarr even as she smiled at Cenric. “Cenric. So good to see you.”

Cenric smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “Welcome, lady.”

Vana! Snapper yipped with happiness, licking her hand furiously as she reached down to pet him.

“Good lad,” Vana chuckled before turning back to Cenric. “I hear you have taken a wife.” Vana glanced around the beach. “A sorceress?”

“Word travels quickly.” Cenric was a little impressed Vana had already heard, but she had that particular talent. She always seemed to know things before anyone else did, at times she seemed omniscient.

Hróarr made a sympathetic sound. “A sorceress? My brother, do you hate yourself?”

Cenric shook his head once, not smiling. “She’s a good woman and a fine wife thus far.”

Hróarr seemed to catch Cenric’s meaning—Brynn was here to stay. “I see. Well, I wish you much happiness and many sons. But not too many, lest you spend your old age breaking up their fights.”

Cenric allowed his smile to return at that. “Gods have mercy.”

The three of them made their way to the beach while Hróarr’s men unloaded the ship. They had brought their own tents and gear, along with what appeared to be chests of gifts, though Cenric pretended not to notice.

The people of the village had mostly gone back to their work, but some stopped to stare at the newcomers. Hróarr had come several times over the past two years, but he still caused a stir whenever he docked in their river. A few of Cenric’s thanes helped with unloading, the villagers letting their curiosity get the best of them and drawing closer.

They walked toward the longhouse. Hróarr and his people usually pitched their tents in the field between the longhouse and the village.

“Why do you stink of fish?” Hróarr sniffed in Cenric’s direction. “Gah! I think you got it on me.”

“Salting fish for winter.” Cenric shook his head.

“Ah, you’ve become domestic. I always forget.” Hróarr heaved a sigh. “Well, so long as you’re—”

“Cenric!” Brynn blocked the path ahead, her hands at her sides, elbows slightly bent, and fingers flexed. She had called his name, but her eyes were on Hróarr. She held a wide stance, not unlike one he used for fighting.

“Brynn.” Cenric stepped ahead of his guests. He cleared his throat, switching back to Hyldish. “This is Hróarr and his lady, Vana.”

Brynn glanced to him briefly before looking back to the others. “Your friends?” Her voice was uncertain as she looked them over. She noticed Vana’s jewelry and her expression changed, but Cenric couldn’t interpret it.

“My cousin. I mentioned him to you.”

“Yes.” Brynn’s arms relaxed, though a new kind of tension took her over. She no longer seemed a warrior bracing for a fight, but a beaten dog bracing for a blow. “I see.” She forced a smile. “Welcome to Ombra. I take it you are here for Blydmoth?”

“What else?” Hróarr grunted, his Hyldish coming reluctantly. “I was just telling this one that you always need some Valdari steel when there’s killing to be done.”

Brynn visibly flinched at that before recovering herself. She cleared her throat, raising her chin. “Well, I am sure my husband will appreciate the help.”

“No need to fear us, lady,” Hróarr chuckled. “We Valdari are not as awful as the stories claim.”

Cenric shook his head again, but it was too late.

Brynn’s face turned blank, a shield slamming into a defensive formation. She spoke to Cenric. “I will have additional food prepared. Was it thirty-six?”

“Thirty-seven,” Hróarr corrected.

Brynn did not look at him as she inclined her head and turned. She made her way ahead of them back to the longhouse. The girl Esa had been hiding behind one of the houses but ran after her as she did, carrying Brynn’s puppy.

Cenric grimaced. Perhaps he should have warned Hróarr sooner.

“Not a very welcoming sort, is she?” Hróarr grunted, sliding back into Valdari. “You’ll have to teach her manners.”

Cenric loved his cousin, he truly did, but the man could be dense as a rock. “Valdari killed her son.”

“Oh.” Vana made a soft sound of understanding, as if that explained everything. “She knows you fraternize with us?”

“I told her, but…” Cenric watched as Brynn disappeared into the longhouse.

When his uncle had been killed, Cenric had been angry. He’d wanted to slaughter every last man who’d had anything to do with it. And he had. Beside Hróarr, they had avenged his father twofold. The lucky ones had received a quick beheading or a stab to the chest. The less lucky ones had met drawn-out, gruesome ends.

Brynn’s grief looked different most of the time, but he saw the anger there. It had shown on their wedding night when they had first discussed her son.

The difference was that Brynn had no way to avenge her son. She didn’t even know who had killed him. Instead of being used to fuel the fire of vengeance, her grief was drowning her. Cenric could see she kept her head above it most of the time, but all too often the waves dragged her under.

Maybe she just needed time, but Cenric wished he could do more. Things always seemed simpler on their nightly walks, but they couldn’t spend their whole lives walking in darkness among the cairns.

“What?” The big man shared a look with his concubine. “I didn’t know.”

Vana shook her head. “You really should leave some things to me, my love.”

“I didn’t know. Cenric didn’t bother to tell me.”

“It’s fine,” Cenric interrupted. “I will talk to Brynn.”

“You should apologize to her,” Vana said.

“Me?” Hróarr blinked down at Vana. “Apologize to a Hyldish witch?”

Vana smiled sweetly up at him. “No, you should apologize to your cousin’s wife.”

Hróarr let a long breath out his nose. He let off a string of curses, but all three of them knew he would do it. Eventually.

They continued walking toward the longhouse, much slower now. It was best to give Brynn time to prepare. They kept their conversation in Valdari. It felt good to speak the language freely again after so many months.

“Brynn helped me make peace with Olfirth, the great thane to the east.”

“That one called the old man?” Hróarr scratched at his beard.

“That one. I didn’t think anything could make us friends, but Brynn has made the opportunity.”

“You are sure you can trust her?” Vana asked mildly. “I am surprised Aelgar gave you a sorceress. You’re sure she isn’t a spy?”

“Yes,” Cenric answered confidently. “She asked for me.”

That surprised Vana. “Oh? You two had met?”

“No,” Cenric had to admit. “She wanted to get away from Ungamot.”

“I see.” Vana didn’t sound convinced. “Forgive me, Cenric, dear, but you are not always the best judge of people, much less women.”

Cenric’s hand clenched before he thought about it. What Vana said was true, but he desperately wanted Brynn. Not just in his bed, but in his life, in his future. She made things easy that had once been difficult. She brought solutions where he had only seen problems. She made him feel…important.

He hadn’t wanted anything this much since he had set out to reclaim Ombra as his inheritance.

“I believe her,” Cenric said.

Vana dropped the matter.

“So much change these days,” Hróarr sighed. “At least I haven’t taken up farming yet.”

Most Valdari raiders were farmers looking to make a bit of extra wealth. They might steal a few sheep, take a couple slaves, and carry off whatever silver they could find, but they weren’t particularly ambitious. They would sail home at the end of the season, and many would never raid again.

The true professionals like Hróarr lived their lives the other way around. They had bases along the coast of Valdar, but their true home was the sea. These men lived their lives as warriors and mercenaries first, farmers and fishermen only when necessary. It carried with it extreme risk, but also great reward.

“Speaking of raids, do you claim that fishing town to the north of here?”

Cenric stopped, fixing his cousin in a hard look. “I do.”

“Ah.” Hróarr smacked his lips, still looking toward the longhouse. “Well, there’s a raiding party headed that way. Only one or two ships, but you might want to do something about it.”