Odin's Game

by Tim Hodkinson

  Hrapp looked almost relieved. ‘Thank you,’ he said. To his surprise, Einar realised that he actually meant it. ‘The Law is the Law, you understand. If we lose that we have nothing. If I let you stay the other Goði would drive me out of my chieftaincy.’

  ‘Einar,’ Unn said, nodding towards Affreca. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to the lovely woman beside you there?’

  Einar, distracted by how odd the whole situation had become so quickly, mumbled, ‘Oh. This is Affreca Guthfrithsdottir, Princess of Dublin.’

  Unn’s face lit up with delight. ‘She’s Irish! Like me?’

  ‘Vikingar-Scoti,’ Affreca responded, sharply. ‘Norse-Irish.’

  ‘A Gall-Gael?’ Unn said, her smile undiminished. ‘Then at least half of you is decent. My son here is half-Irish too. I pray that between you someday you’ll make one completely Irish baby!’

  Einar sucked in a sharp breath. ‘We’re not… I mean she isn’t…’ he blustered. ‘We’re not together in that way.’

  ‘No, we’re not.’ Affreca said.

  ‘Not yet, you mean,’ Unn said with an embarrassing wink.

  Einar shook his head. He turned away and walked off. It was all too much to take in. He had only walked a short way when he realised Affreca was walking with him.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ he said.

  She shrugged. ‘My father will still be after me.’

  ‘He’ll be after me too,’ Einar said. ‘So will my own father. A jarl and a king. We have very powerful enemies. Then there is King Eirik Bloody Axe of Norway. Who knows what his next move will be?’

  ‘You two,’ Ulrich’s voice made them both turn around. He and Skar were coming to join them. ‘A word, if you will.’

  Affreca and Einar waited.

  ‘We’ve lost a lot of good men,’ Ulrich said. ‘We’ll use Hrolf’s snekkja to give our comrades who fell today a proper send off. They’ll have a Viking’s funeral and be burned in that ship. We’ll sacrifice that prisoner I saved to consecrate the rite. Hrapp can take the other warship to do what he likes with.’

  He paused. To Einar the little Wolf Coat leader seemed to become a bit awkward or uncomfortable.

  ‘The thing is,’ he said. ‘We need to build up our numbers again. A Wolf Coat company must be twelve strong. Nine plus three. Sacred numbers of Odin. Skar thinks you should join us. We need more men.’

  ‘Men?’ Affreca raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Edgar said there was a price on your head, princess,’ Ulrich smiled. ‘Perhaps we could return you to your father and use the money to buy some more men.’

  Affreca’s hand twitched towards her bowstring. Ulrich threw up his hands.

  ‘A joke, your highness. Merely a joke,’ he said quickly, grinning. ‘Seriously. You are the best shot I’ve seen. With an archer like you in our company we could really get up to some great mischief. You, Einar—’

  Einar lifted his chin.

  ‘You’re the best poet I’ve ever heard sing,’ Ulrich said. ‘We could do with a skald who can tell of our exploits.’

  ‘I can fight too,’ Einar protested.

  Ulrich shrugged and Einar knew this was the most he would ever get from him.

  ‘What do you say?’ Ulrich said.

  ‘All right,’ Affreca responded.

  Einar looked at his former team mates and their girls. At Audun and Asgerd. At his mother and Hrapp. At the burned remains of his home. He realised everything had moved on even in the short time since he had left. He no longer belonged here.

  ‘Why not’ Einar said. ‘I need something to do for the next two years while I’m an outlaw here anyway. Let’s see what happens.’

  ‘Whatever will happen, will happen,’ Affreca said. ‘The Norns have already chosen our fates.’

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