leveled what looked like the haft of an ax at his chest. “Out,” he rumbled.
“Why?” Ulfar said, retreating. He felt for the sword at his hip. “I don’t have a quarrel with you.”
“Shut up!” the smaller one screamed. “Shut the fuck up, you fucking piece-of-shit Swede! You know what you did, and you’re not fucking walking away from my town! He tried to rape Anneli!” he exclaimed to the graybeards in the longhouse. His big companion advanced, careful brawler-style.
Still holding the mug, Ulfar jumped up on the table and kicked a soup bowl at the larger one’s head. He swatted it away and took two more steps. He’d be within striking range in moments. “I didn’t—do—anything!” he shouted. “The girl wanted to go with me. I was drunk. I was too drunk, in fact, and then she stormed off! Just leave me alone!”
“Liar,” the big one growled and swung for Ulfar, hard enough to break both his legs.
Screaming with rage, Ulfar leapt over the ax handle, landed, and smashed the mug on the big man’s forehead. The big man bellowed and staggered, clutching his bleeding head and tilting it backward to get the blood out of his eyes. His smaller companion screamed and rushed toward them, but at that moment Ulfar jumped off the table, planted his foot on the big man’s chest, and pushed hard, sending the two men crashing back toward the door. He landed softly and was up in an instant with his sword drawn. He took two steps toward the young men getting up off the floor, who suddenly looked a lot less confident.
“I said—leave me—the fuck—alone!”
“You raped—,” the smaller one started, squirming away from the point of the sword.
“You say that one more time and I will spit you like a pig. I didn’t rape anyone. Your little slut friend was begging for it, and she’s pulling you along by the cock to make things happen in this shithole so she can have a thrill,” Ulfar said. “Now get the fuck out of my way so I can leave you sheep-fuckers to it.” The larger one shot him a baleful look as he stood up, but he stepped out of the way. “And drop the stick,” he added. “You, too,” Ulfar snapped at the shorter one, who looked reluctant to let it go. “Get some sense, boys.” Exhaustion hovered at the edge of his fury. “Just . . . get some sense.”
The big man grabbed his brother by the shoulder and pulled him aside, and Ulfar walked out of the longhouse with his sword drawn.
Something moved quickly in the shadows to his side, just at the edge of his vision. Still tingling from the fight, Ulfar spun around, seized the hand holding the rock and pulled the arm down hard across his knee, dragging his surprisingly light attacker off balance. He felt the snap and heard the rock tumble to the ground. The piercing scream was loud enough to save Anneli’s life—Ulfar’s sword stopped a finger’s breadth from her neck.
“You bastard,” she sobbed in the darkness. “You fucking bastard. You broke my arm.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Ulfar snarled. “Want me to kiss it better?” He sheathed his sword and kicked the prone figure once for good measure. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered as he walked away from the form sobbing in the shadows. Behind him he heard the commotion as the doors opened. Somebody shouted something after him; he didn’t care. He hawked, spat, and walked on.
The faint moonlight quickly turned the nameless town into just another shade of darkness, and he covered the first few miles quickly, cooling his blood. It took him a good couple of miles more to realize that he was slowing down.
He was hungry, hung over, and angry at everything.
And he still stank.
Veering off the road, he found a thick-leaved bush and crawled under it. Mangled visions floated before his eyes; he imagined spearing Anneli, ripping open her throat, and throwing her off a wall somewhere in front of a thousand helpless brothers. Sleep caught him and gave him dreams of Lilia.
EAST OF VALLE, WEST NORWAY
OCTOBER, AD 996
Sunrise brought another headache and a woolly mouth, an aching bladder, and a back all knotted from the hard ground. I’ll never speak ill of any bed ever again, Ulfar thought as he crawled out from underneath the bush. It was the kind of thing Geiri would love to tease him about. Retracing his steps, he found the road again. It led to the