Viking Boy by Tony Bradman

Author:Tony Bradman [Bradman, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781406342734
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2012-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

The days passed slowly. Spring arrived at last with a warm wind from the south, and the iron ruts in Kaupang’s alleys soon became the same old stinking mud. The sea ice melted and the harbour grew busier. Trading ships appeared first, then the longships came, many of them bringing slaves for Orm, and his pens were soon full again. Gunnar was afraid to look into them sometimes, half expecting to see faces he recognized, people from his own steading.

Then one morning he heard something that made his heart race. Rurik was in a black mood, and Gunnar was hanging around the quayside. He passed a longship where two men were mending sails, talking while they worked their needles.

“I’d never seen anything like it,” said one of them, a gingery man with a scrappy beard. “Mountains of ice that slide across the land and crush rocks to powder. Rivers of fire that burst out of giant cracks beneath your feet.”

“Sounds like a hard place to live,” said the other, a dark, wiry man with several of his front teeth missing. “What did you say it was called?”

“It’s got a couple of names,” said the first man. “The Land of Ice and Fire, or just Iceland. It’s not that bad, though. There’s good land to farm too.”

So the Land of Ice and Fire did exist! Gunnar asked Thorkel about what he had heard, wishing he had done so before. Soon he knew it took a month by sea to get there, as the old man had said. From then on Gunnar spent every spare moment on the quayside, wondering if he could stow away on a longship.

A few days later, Rurik set off to the hall for supper with Gunnar as usual. The setting sun was a red ball and night was starting to fill the town with darkness, but the air was still warm and seagulls swooped and squawked above the roofs. After a while Rurik and Gunnar came to a crossroads and stopped. Three men blocked the way ahead, the sun outlining them with a fiery glow.

It was Starkad, flanked on one side by Ari and on the other by Hogni, their faces grim. Starkad and Ari were wearing chainmail and helmets. They carried shields and had drawn their swords. Hogni was also wearing chainmail, a rusty old byrnie with big, ragged holes in it that was far too short for him. He carried an old short-handled battle-axe, its blade a thick slab of black iron.

“So, the moment has come,” Rurik said, hand on his sword hilt. “Is it to be just you and me, Starkad, or do I have to kill your two puppies as well?”

“You’ll have to kill the whole pack, Rurik,” said Starkad, a smile on his lips. “You don’t seem to have many friends among the men of Orm’s hall.”

Gunnar looked round and drew in his breath. Starkad’s supporters blocked each alley, half a dozen of Orm’s Hounds armed and ready for battle.

But Rurik just laughed.

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