The Day of the Wolf by C R May

Author:C R May [May, C R]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781999669539
Published: 2020-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

15

Skulissons

The king aimed a kick as the rat scurried past, exchanging a look with Thorstein as the rodent was swallowed by the gloom. He held out the cup for a refill while he had the man’s attention, knuckling his lids and attempting to blink the weariness from his eyes as the ale splashed. Erik shifted again on the stool, rocking from side to side to allow the blood flow to return to one arse cheek after the other before returning his gaze to the palisade. Still nothing. He glanced up at the night sky through a gap in the ill-fitting planking. High above the moon slipped behind a bank of ribboned clouds, riming the edges a steely grey as the wind drove them on. Erik looked away to the East. This far north the summer nights were barely worth the bother of heading to your bed; already the stars were dimming as the wolf light of predawn grew moment by moment.

Grettir and Gunnar, the brothers from Hordaland who had led the boar head charge at Ceasterford and Corebricg, had been the ones to discover the preparations for the expected attack. Constantly alert to signs of danger, the pair had walked the perimeter of Celurca before daylight had faded the previous evening. In a part of the circuit all but obscured from the rest of the town by the long roof of a byre, the slight signs of a disturbance near the base of the wall had drawn them across, despite the clouds of insects and overwhelming stench from the racks of cow pats left drying in the sun. There they had discovered that one of the big upright posts which ringed the bank had recently been sawn through near the base. Although all traces of sawdust had been carefully removed and the cut itself smeared with mud and shit, the attempt at concealment had only reinforced their fears that an attack on Erik and his leading men was imminent. No one could foresee how long the king would remain in the town, so any assault was likely to take place that night, and although Erik had gone ahead with the feast he had spent the best part of the night sat in the hayloft as he waited for the enemy to make their move. He supped again as he thought, snorting softly in the dark as he closed his eyes momentarily and shifted on the stool: he really was getting a bit long in the tooth for this shit.

Thorstein’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it, and Erik’s gaze flew across to the base of the fence as shadowy figures tensed around him. At first his eyes had difficulty readjusting to the shadows, but a finger of moonlight stabbed out at just that moment and Erik caught the merest movement before the returning glow caused it to stop. A heartbeat later the light blinked out as the clouds moved back to smother the moon, and Erik gripped the hilt of his sword as the point of a dagger appeared at the side of the panel to lever it aside.

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