Blood Eagle: A riveting historical thriller

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Blood Eagle: A riveting historical thriller Page 8

by Derek, Julia


  “Of course. We would never miss an opportunity to pay proper respect to the Jarl. I haven’t seen Hilda since the wedding either, so it will be nice to see her, too. I miss that girl.” I could feel my lips move into a delighted smile.

  “You miss her?” Ragnar wondered, his voice sounding muddy all of a sudden. A faint sparkle lit up his eyes.

  I looked at my friend for a long, quiet moment. I knew why Ragnar looked this way.

  “Yes, I do miss her,” I said finally, feeling horribly guilty at the thought of how I might have broken his younger sister’s heart. Her feelings for me had been obvious for quite some time not only to me but to others as well. Like Ragnar. “A lot. You know I love your sister, even though I married Thora, Ragnar.”

  Ragnar leaned forward, grinning. “That’s right, Leif. You love Hilda very much. You love lots of girls. Everybody knows that.”

  You know I love your sister, even though I married Thora, Ragnar.

  I groaned as I ignited the pile of leaves and sticks that I had gathered with the help of Thorvald’s flint stone, eating knife, and candle. Ragnar must have loved that I’d said that, helping him to solidify his case against me. Not to mention what I did the following day, when I rode over to Valstad to pay Hjalmar the iron smith a visit. Our family’s knives had needed sharpening and we could use a new axe for wood chopping.

  Having arrived at Hjalmar’s place, I had descended the horse and tied it to a tall wooden pole placed behind the townhouse. Then I walked around to the front of the building where a long line of people already waited to be served. I placed myself behind a short man in a dark brown tunic and trousers made out of coarse wool and an even shorter woman. She was dressed considerably nicer in a dark blue silk dress, her ashy blond curls flowing freely down her back. Even when she turned around and looked at me, I didn’t realize who it was; I was too caught up reliving Thora and my lovemaking-session the night before in my head.

  I don’t know how long it took until I finally withdrew from my reveries, but when I did I was glad to discover who was standing there. “Hilda! How are you?”

  “I know it was a while ago since we saw each other last,” Hilda said, smiling sweetly, “but surely I haven’t changed that much.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all! I was just thinking about how… how I hope Hjalmar’s axes won’t be sold out the moment it’s my turn to take care of business. I’m sorry.” I embraced her. “It is so good to see you, Hilda!”

  “It is good to see you too,” she said.

  “What are you doing here so early in the morning?” I asked.

  “I need a couple of needles and a new pair of scissors.”

  I frowned at her. “How come you don’t send one of the slaves to buy it for you?”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, it’s easier if I do it. I need a specific tool for the tunic I’m sewing for Father’s birthday. It would be hard to describe. Besides, Toke here likes my company. Don’t you Toke?” Hilda nudged the squat, potato-nosed man by her side. He gave her a smile and nodded. She introduced Toke to me and we shook hands.

  “How are your brothers?” I wondered. “Have they gotten over yesterday’s loss to the Knute brothers? They were really drunk when they left.”

  “I don’t know. When they got home they just went straight to sleep, all in one bed. They were still sleeping when I left.”

  The thought of the burly Jarlabanke men heaped up on top of one other, arms and legs sticking out here and there, cracked me up.

  “No one drinks like a Jarlabanke, right?” Hilda said, her lips adopting that sweet smile again.

  “Right,” I nodded, still chuckling.

  “Married life is good?” Hilda asked.

  Feet met gravel behind us and I threw a glance over my shoulder. An older man and woman claimed the spot behind me. I recognized them, but I couldn’t remember their names, and I could tell from the look on their faces that they felt the same way. We exchanged nods, and then I returned my attention to Hilda.

  “Yes, it’s good,” I said. “Busy. But that doesn’t mean you and I cannot get together again every now and then, Hilda. Married life doesn’t have to change that. We should be able to continue our relationship one way or another. After all, Hilda, you are my favorite Jarlabanke.” I gave her a wink. What I had said was just wishful thinking, however. Sadly, married life would change our relationship. Surely Hilda knew this too; still, she played along with me and nodded. A big smile parted her face, transforming it as always into someone much prettier. I embraced her again, the embrace lasting longer than before, and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I thought you were one woman’s man now, Leif!” a boisterous voice said above us a few steps away. Hilda and I turned around, both of us startled. Mounted on an impressive black thoroughbred was Ragnar, staring down at us. His shock of reddish-blond hair looked more tangled than usual. He had spoken so loudly the entire line of people must have heard him, because now all of them had their eyes fixed on me and Hilda standing there, arms around the other. We realized suddenly what it must look like to the bystanders, and let go of each other.

  “You will never change, Leif, will you?” Ragnar continued in that same strident tone. “You must have those girls, don’t you, married or not.” He swung his heavy body over to one side and dismounted the horse. Holding on to the reins, he came closer to me and Hilda.

  “I cannot believe you let him touch you like that,” Ragnar said to Hilda, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly to soften his words. “He’s a married man now and should know better.”

  Hilda didn’t bother to acknowledge his silly comment. Instead, she asked, “What are you doing here? Last time I saw you, you were sleeping like a little boy on top of Loke.”

  “Is that how you thank me for coming down to offer you a ride back on my precious full blood?” Ragnar asked with a tilted head.

  Hilda merely raised her eyebrows in response. Ragnar sighed. “You slammed the door so hard when you left that you woke not just me but your other brothers, too. So we all got up.”

  “How is Rolle doing?” I asked, remembering that the younger Knute brother had beat Rolle black and blue in the first wrestling round yesterday.

  “Oh, he will be fine. It looked worse than it was. I made you a good amount of silver, didn’t I, my brother?” He gazed at me meaningfully.

  “You sure did, Ragnar. You sure did. Many thanks.”

  “You deserved it. You’re a good lad with good judgment. But that will soon change.”

  I shook my head at the memory. No wonder everyone had been convinced Hilda and I were conducting an affair behind Thora’s back! I gutted and then impaled the eel in my hand with the spit I had made to grill it.

  As I placed the eel above the little fire that burned before me, I thought of Thora for the first time since the trial. My heart ached as I pondered all that she had gone through lately. Not only had she been made to believe that she had married a rapist and a murderer, but she’d had her heart broken. Ragnar must have packed her full of ideas that Hilda and I were having an affair behind her back… Biting my teeth together so hard I thought they might break, a renewed surge of fury raged through my blood. I couldn’t wait until I got a hold of Ragnar. I knew just what I would do to him then.

  Despite feeling protective of my wife, however, it hurt me that she had seemed so convinced of my guilt. Even if all the evidence in the world indicated that I had done it, nobody had actually seen me do any of it. Shouldn’t she know in her heart that I would never have an affair with Hilda, never mind raping and then killing the girl?

  Well, she probably does, I calmed myself. Not that it changed anything. In her eyes, I was still as good as dead now. She didn’t know how determined I was to clear my name, or even that I was alive. Most likely, after she had divorced me, she would eventually get… get re-married.

  I swallowed hard. The thought of Thora with another lad was abhorrent. My sole consolation was that she would never marry Ragnar. T
he depraved creep should only know that Thora could barely stand him. She found him vulgar and obnoxious and put up with him solely because he was my friend and because the Jarlabanke clan had done so much for our family, something that couldn’t be disregarded.

  Ragnar would be furious when he understood that he had gotten rid of me and his sister all in vain.

  13

  Locating the Assembly building in Valstad turned out to be a real challenge. The terrain seemed determined to stay flat forever, making me increasingly worried as I rode on one of the horses in the direction I thought was south. The farther I got from Valstad, the smaller the chance that I would spot the building, and soon it would be so dark that I wouldn’t be able to see anything at all even if I did find a hill.

  It didn’t take much longer before I couldn’t take it any more. Scouting out the tallest fir within sight, I descended the horse and climbed the tree.

  Ascending the stem with its many tight-growing branches covered with needles was a struggle, especially given my hurt foot. I cut my palms badly, but the rough climb paid off in the end. As I reached the top, I did get a glimpse of the very tip of the Valstad Assembly roof, telling me exactly in which direction to proceed. Thankfully, it seemed I had been heading south all along.

  After I had been able to locate the assembly building, crossing the forest was easier than I had expected; riding a horse instead of walking made a big difference. I traveled for days without other nasty encounters with wild beasts and, much to my surprise, I stayed clear of other forest men. The weather stayed comparatively pleasant. Almost every day the huge forest’s underbelly bathed in bright sunshine, and the temperatures stayed mild for late fall. At regular intervals, I found creeks or small lakes from which I could satisfy my need for water. I got better at catching fish with a sword, and I grilled it over bonfires. After the fish I usually had some berries; plenty of blueberries and cowberries grew in the thick weeds. My diet was dull and unsatisfying—I longed for some salt to make the fish taste better—but it kept me from starving. The fires kept me warm when the nights came and it got much cooler. I found it almost enjoyable to sleep next to the crackling flames under the peaceful, star-filled sky.

  I no longer feared that Ragnar or someone else was after me; if they were, they would have shown up by now. So I kept the fire burning longer and longer in the mornings. Yesterday, I even washed and dried my clothes by it. I could feel how my face and neck were covered with a beard now. I wondered if the look suited me. If Thora would have liked me wearing it. I quickly pushed thoughts of my wife out of my mind; thinking of her was too painful.

  Nearly a week had passed and I knew I must be close to Flemminge now. Yesterday, after I had climbed a large hill, I spotted the tip of a pointy-roofed house that was similar to the assembly building in Valstad. Of course, the house I’d seen was probably not a People’s Assembly, but one of those temples called church within which the White Christ was worshipped. I had heard that the Danes built these types of temples in villages all over their country. Around the roof of the temple, I had been able to discern several tunnels of smoke rising and disassembling into the air. The smoke must come from people’s houses in the vicinity.

  This afternoon I succeeded for the first time in catching something other than fish—a small rabbit. I put it aside and began to gather sticks and dry leaves to start a fire. The temperature dropped drastically as the day turned into evening. Feeling goose bumps developing on my arms under my tunic, I hurried the gathering, looking forward to sitting next to the warmth. Soon, there was a fire flickering in front of me, emanating a rich heat that penetrated my skin, warming me all the way to the bones. I rubbed my hands together, relishing the feeling for a few moments before opening the rabbit and removing its innards. I washed the animal and cut it in smaller pieces. Sticking some of the pieces on my spit, I held them over the flames that licked the early evening air, higher and higher up toward the sky. The heat made the air bounce and shiver, crackling the wood.

  The grilled rabbit meat was the most delicious meal I had tasted in a long time despite that it lacked seasoning, and I ate so fast I got a severe case of the hiccups. Loath to leave the fire, I stood up and headed for the little lake that I had spotted nearby to get some water. My foot was much better now and my gait nearly normal. Still, not even halfway to the lake, I managed to trip on what felt like a really big tree root hiding in the knee-high undergrowth. Only, the root squealed and started moving. It was a boar piglet, not a giant root, I quickly concluded. More piglets appeared between two boulders a little farther ahead.

  Then their much, much larger mother appeared out of nowhere—looking very mad.

  My hand automatically went to the belt around my waist where I had attached Olaf’s scabbard with the sword. I stiffened when I realized that I had removed it to get more comfortable while sitting down eating. In my hurry to get rid of the annoying hiccups, I had forgotten to put it on again.

  I shot the sow a wary glance. She was staring at me with beady green eyes, and white foam glistened along the edges of her mouth. Trying not to move my head much, I quickly looked around for trees that I could climb. The closest one was to the left of me, about fifteen steps away. If I ran fast, I should be able to climb it before the sow had reached me. With some luck, she would soon get tired waiting for me to come back down, and then she would leave.

  Getting ready to run, I swiveled to the left. I stopped dead in my tracks. Only a few steps away from me another boar appeared from behind a bush, a larger one with a black, hairy face. It blocked my way to the tree. Its lips were pulled up so the sharp tusks and the long yellow canines had become visible. It made a strange sound, something between a squeal and a growl. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that a third boar, which was the size of a small horse, trotted over from in between the bushes. At the sight of me, it stopped and glowered at me. The hair on my neck stood up, and I got ice cold.

  I’m surrounded.

  My thoughts raced. What should I do? I might have been able to fight off the smaller sow, but not two other boars. Two that were even bigger. Without a weapon, I didn’t stand much of a chance. I threw a glance at the fire. There, beside the flames on the ground lay the sword in its scabbard. What had I been thinking removing it like that? I was well aware that you were never safe for long out in the—

  Before I could finish the thought the sow had lunged at me. I moved to the side so swiftly that I tripped and fell backwards, ending up on my back. I tried to sit up, but the sow was soon over me again, biting and trying to claw me. I swiped at her with my arm and managed to fend her off momentarily. I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding furiously. If only I had the sword...

  Then I remembered the wooden spear that I kept tied around my back at all times. It was better than nothing. I reached for it. A second hog came charging at me. Right as it was about to bite me, I pointed the spear at it, cutting it lightly at the neck. Taken aback, it squealed and retreated to the side, only to be replaced by a third attack from the sow.

  The furious female scratched my legs with her long claws and tried to drive her sharp teeth into my side. I fought back as best I could, sticking my spear anywhere I could reach into her muscular, cylindrical body, but my jabs didn’t pierce her enough to make real damage.

  The second and the third hog joined in, squealing loudly. A swipe of a sharp-clawed paw barely missed my eyes and instead cut my cheek. I gasped when I felt one of the beasts bury its teeth into my thigh, then another into my hip. A pig bit my hand, making me drop my spear it hurt so bad. Somehow, I managed to sink down on my haunches and fish it up from the ground. I drove the spear violently against each hog that attacked, but they weren’t deterred for long and returned immediately, angrier than before. I could barely keep them off. If they were more than three, they would take me for sure, I managed to think in the midst of the wild battle. And I who thought I was as good a fighter as my grandfather… If only I had a sword… or a larger dagger… I don’t wa
nt to die this way…

  I thought I heard two more boars arrive somewhere behind me then. There were sharp claws everywhere, mad roaring, squealing, snarling close to my face, sharp tusks digging through my clothes into my flesh. I tried desperately to defend myself, but they were over me again and again and again, more viciously each time. The heavy, furry, dark bodies blurred into one, blocking out the blue sky. As consciousness began to fail me, I no longer felt the pain their attacks caused.

  14

  I was still fighting, flailing my arms and legs crazily when I opened my eyes, blinking against the setting sun’s still sharp rays. Lowering my gaze, I found myself staring up into a familiar round face. Every part of me screamed of excruciating pain.

  “You can stop now, Leif. They are dead,” the man with the round face said.

  That voice… I recognized that hoarse, musty voice. Those aloof but warm eyes and those thick features… And that thick neck. I was waking up quickly now. Could it be…? Yes… It was. It was Orvar, the slave who had murdered his master in cold blood, and who had escaped into the woods. Orvar was no longer bald, but instead his head was covered with fluffy, dark blond curls. A strong man with wavy brown hair and a full beard stood beside him, holding a bloody spear. Over his shoulder hung a bow and arrows in a sheath.

  Fully awake and frightened for different reasons now, I tried to sit up, but pain overwhelmed me. Orvar contemplated me. He must have seen my anxiety for he said, “Lie down. You are in good hands. And don’t try to move. You are badly hurt as it is.”

  I soon concluded that it was probably best to do as I was told, but I simply had to turn my head a little to get an idea what was going on. The bodies of dead boars lay scattered here and there next to me. Silently, I counted to six of them. Had I been fighting that many?

 

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