2
THE BLACK-HAIRED WITCH was leaning over him, her white face very close to his.
She was speaking to him, her words quiet, the sound of them soft, but he didna??t understand.
He wondered vaguely what she wanted of him, but then he didna??t care.
He sought death. Hea??d failed, not only himself but his father and mother.
He eased out his breath and welcomed it.
He was drawn quickly inward once again, and he saw her no more.
Mirana backed away from the bed. The man was deeply unconscious, which was just as well.
She watched Gunleik lean over him, brace one hand on the post of the box bed, clutch his fingers around the ivory handle and pull the knife from his flesh.
He did it quickly and cleanly. Blood gushed out in its wake, red and thick, too much blood, flowing under his arm, snaking down through the thick blond hair covering his chest. Quickly she pressed clean woolen cloths against the wound.
Gunleik wiped his knife on his tunic, then slid it back in its sheath. He grunted, and moved her aside.
a??I have more strength,a?? he said, and sat down beside the man, bearing down on the wound.
a??You truly dona??t know who he is,a?? she said as she bathed the filth from his face.
a??Nay. But I know that if hea??d gotten his hands on Einar, he would have told him, aye, he would have told him who he was and watched his eyes as he killed him.a??
a??Why do you wish him to live? Einar shows no mercy for a man who steals a chicken. What would he do to this man?a??
a??Kill him slowly and with great pleasure.a??
She was silent, drying his face now, pale and drawn in the dim rush light.
a??Let him die,a?? she said finally.
a??Nay, I cannot. My loyalty is to your brother.
I must grant him the choice of this mana??s future.
Besides, we must find out who he is, we must know what he wants, why he hates Einar so much.
There might be others, the mana??s kin. There are strong feelings here, hatred that runs very deep. Nay, we must know who he is.a??
a??Ask his two men once they are conscious again.a??
a??Aye, I will, but I doubt theya??ll tell us.
No, I must speak to this man, and only he, for he is their leader and he is the one who seeks revenge.a?? The man wouldna??t speak, Gunleik knew, not until he saw Einar, and even then perhaps he wouldna??t, for he had failed in his vengeance.
He would probably die unknown to them and to Einar.
a??Why is there such hatred for my brother?a??
Gunleik pressed more firmly on the wound, frowning at the seeping blood from beneath the thick wad of wool. a??You will seek your answers from Einar. I trust he will recognize the man. There is hatred here that chills the soul.a??
a??He is a very young man,a?? Mirana said. a??With his silver helmet and its nose guard, he looked fearsome, like a demon, unknown and thus frightening. But he isna??t. Hea??s just a man and hea??a??
a??Aye, he is just a man, Mirana, and he is well formed and strong, a warrior. I hope that Einar will allow him to die like a man.a??
Mirana did as well, but she doubted Einar would ever consent to forgo his pleasures, for the pain of others brought him a good deal of pleasure.
This man was fine-looking as well, Mirana thought, turning away from him.
When she had watched him fighting in the outer yard, his sword had gleamed as brightly as the silver arm bands that still encircled each of his upper arms. Aye, hea??d looked like a demon in that helmet, but not an old devil though, for he was large, his body lean and beautiful with its golden hair, his legs thick with youth and muscle.
He wore only a tunic that was belted at his waist and thick leather shoes cross-strapped to his knees.
a??I will send two of the women to strip off his wet tunic and bathe the blood and mud from him.a??
a??I will keep the pressure on the wound. The blood is slowing already.a??
She sent Einara??s two mistresses. Shea??d not been honest with herself.
Actually, the man was magnificent, his face all hard lines and shadowed planes, a beautiful face with arched golden brows, a deep cleft in his chin.
Let them sigh over him and caress his body, the lustful fools.
She wouldna??t care. She refused to let herself care, for down that path lay only sorrow and pain, for her as well as for him.
The hour grew late. Mirana saw that their four wounded men were tended.
None would die, thanks be to Thor. The warriora??s two men were bound and locked inside a storage shed, their wounds tended as well, slight wounds really, but their heads ached terribly.
She told Ivar, who was guarding the two men, to keep a sharp eye on them; perhaps, she told him, just perhaps, one of the men would tell Ivar who their leader was.
Gunleik assigned men to keep a watch on the rest of the enemy, who were now standing miserably cold and silent on the beach, huddled under their bearskins in the pounding rain. Perhaps they didna??t yet know their leader had failed.
It neared midnight. She rose and stretched.
Men were snoring on the benches that lined the longhouse, each wrapped in his woolen blanket or bearskin.
Gunleik was standing, staring into the orange sparking embers in the fire pit in the center of the longhouse.
His age-seamed face was set and hard, his pale gray eyes as calm as the core of a storm.
His legs were bare but they didna??t look like the warriora??s legs.
His legs were bowed and scarred from many battles.
She said quietly to him, a??When do you think my brother will return?a??
a??Your half-brother, Mirana. In two days, he told me.a??
She smiled at that, for there was firmness in Gunleika??s voice.
Then she said, a??I was just thinking of the warriora??s trickery.
Conquest wasna??t his plan. He brought only two warships and no more than thirty men.
He had no plan to go anywhere but here because Einar was here and he wanted him.a??
a??Aye, I admire his mind and his guile.
He knew of the small rear door all along, and he waited until the storm began and darkness had come to invade the fortress.
All his taunting, his curses, and his insults, all was bluster and a sham.
He came with only two men. They would come into the fortress and search out Einar and kill him at their leisure.
His other men would continue their taunting on the beach, holding all my mena??s attention.
I admire him, Mirana. He is bold and he was taking a grave risk.
But his plan failed and now he will die.a??
a??There are his men on the beach. Do you believe they now realize that he has failed and will sail away without him? Surely they wona??t try to storm the fortress, they would have no chance.a??
a??Were I one of his men I would wait for him until the Christiana??s devil came to take me.a??
a??I would wait too,a?? she said, and smiled sadly into the embers of the fire pit. a??You know, of course, that this means there is a spy here at Clontarf, a man who is loyal to this warrior.a??
a??Aye, I know. I will find him. I must find him soon or lord Einar will not be pleased.a??
And Einar might punish Gunleik, she thought. Mirana spooned some porridge into a wooden bowl and handed it to Gunleik. a??You have not eaten. It is tasty. Here is some honey. Eat. We will find the spy, fret not.a??
She watched him fondly, this man who was as close to her as her father had been, dead now since her twelfth year, and shea??d been sent here to Clontarf to be in her brothera??s guardianship.
Her half-brothera??s guardianship. And Gunleik had been here and shea??d turned to this man who treated her gently yet matter-of-factly, and had taught her how to use weapons because he knew nothing else to teach her.
And Einar had approved because she realized it had pleased him to know that she could sew and cook and keep his household and fight like a man. Aye, Einar was like that.
Old Halak stopped beside her and patted her arm.
He wished her a good night. She nodded to him, thanking him, for nothing really, but just because he was a good man and had served her well.
He had also fashioned a protective shielding around the hole in the roof so no rain poured into the longhouse.
It was warm within, a bluish smoke haze hanging in the air, but not so thick that it was uncomfortable to breathe.