Lost Gods by Tim Hardie

Author:Tim Hardie [Hardie, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TJH Publications UK
Published: 2022-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 42

Djuri downed another ale, sitting in a darkened corner of the Great Hall, Ulf at his side. His head felt fuzzy from too much drink and he hadn’t heard a word the Vorund man opposite was saying. Tyrfingr made a point of ensuring the Reavesburg and Vorund warriors ate together every day, slowly working to weave them into a single unit. It was too soon for the old clan rivalries to vanish but many of the Reavesburg warriors were now friends with their Vorund counterparts. Having betrayed their clan, there was no going back and, like Djuri, they’d embraced the unwelcome fact Tyrfingr ruled Ulfkell’s Keep. Many Reavesburg folk still thought of them as traitors, although none said so to their face for fear of reprisals.

In many ways everyday life hadn’t changed much from the time when Reavesburg was ruled by Kolfinnar or Jorik. Trade came in via the busy docks as before since the merchants lived to make coin and it didn’t matter if they traded with Vorund, Helsburg or Vittag. The various clans had all warred with one another in the past, yet Reavesburg’s history was also one of alliances and treaties. Sigborn Dragonslayer had united the Reavesburg and Romsdahl Clans peacefully during his twenty-year rule. Pengill Svennson, the wisest of the Reavesburg chiefs, brokered the first trade links with the Vittag and Helsburg Clans; profitable arrangements for all concerned, which had endured for nearly one hundred years. And of course, there had been Jorik’s ill-fated pact with Karas Greystorm and the Norlhast Clan; seeing his sister married off to a man more than twice her age, only for that plan to meet with disaster.

Life moved on yet people still wanted something to focus their anger upon and somehow the name Djuri Turncloak had stuck. Perhaps it was because he was the leader of the Reavesburg warriors, even if Tyrfingr didn’t officially recognise the distinction. His was the face of the Reavesburg defeat and their servitude under King Adalrikr and he could only count Ulf as a real friend. People were fickle, bemoaning his choices, whilst at the same time behaving as if Adalrikr had ruled them all their lives.

Maybe Tyrfingr senses the conflict in me – the name Turncloak is apt enough. I came here plotting murder and revenge, although I’ve done precious little about it since. Not for the first time, Djuri sat there wondering what he was doing in Ulfkell’s Keep. He thought of Eidr, out there somewhere with Bjorr and the rest of his men, hunting Humli’s family down. He’d done as he was asked and planted his false trail. What now? Kill Tyrfingr? He glanced at the Jarl of Reavesburg, slouched as always in Reave’s Chair. After his experience in the duelling circle was the task too difficult? Or am I just a coward, finding excuses and all the while doing nothing?

Djuri waved his mug in the air and a servant refilled it. He took a long draught, laughing at Ulf’s half-heard joke whilst watching Nereth.

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