Blood Price by Jerry Autieri

Author:Jerry Autieri [Autieri, Jerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

18

The setting sun was as red as the blood Yngvar expected would soon flow from his arrow-riddled corpse. The beach waves lapped in placid contrast to the panic spreading out on the beach. Dozens of throaty shouts rang out over the shore. The score of bowmen lined up their shots and Yngvar found no place to dive for cover.

Egil laughed beside Yngvar. When he doubled over Yngvar thought he had caught the first shaft in his gut. Yet the bowmen had not released. Thorfast and Alasdair put their hands to their swords. Harek and Skarf did as well. Oddly, only Bjorn remained calm at Yngvar’s side. He cast his one eye disdainfully on Red Beard, who lay flattened out on the sand.

“Jarl Svein!” The man who had stepped forward wore a green cloak that swept off his shoulder to reveal a naked arm heavy with gold and silver bands. He knelt beside Red Beard, cradling his head as if it were the fragments of a broken egg.

“Jarl Svein?” Yngvar repeated. “What fool jarl greets strangers on his shore? This is a trick.”

He hoped the excuse would ease the tension, but none of the bows arrayed against him wavered. The man kneeling over the jarl slapped Svein’s cheeks. He seemed on the verge of tears as the jarl remained prone.

Had the blow snapped the jarl’s neck? If this was indeed Svein, then he had taken Hakon’s revenge with no effort. Should he run now? He could never survive the arrows ready to fly. He would not be certain Svein was truly dead. The gods were laughing at him, he was certain.

Then Jarl Svein Karlsson shook his head like a confused ox. With one strong arm he batted away the simpering man hovering over him.

Yngvar could kill him now. He wondered if King Hakon were here would he order him forward? How many men had died so far to avenge Hakon’s secret half-brother? What would his own death mean? Only Harek and Skarf had to escape with the news. Everyone else was expendable.

But King Hakon was a month of rowing days distant. Yngvar went to his knee.

“Jarl Svein, I did not realize it was you.”

Svein got to his feet. Egil continued to laugh while every other person waited on Svein’s mood.

Then Svein began to laugh as well.

Yngvar kept his head lowered. Now was not the time for his deed. In fact, he had not planned a time for his deed. He was confident the moment would be obvious.

“What an arm on this one,” Svein said. “No man has ever laid me out so flat. Ah, now that’s what I ask of a warrior. Get up from your knee.”

Relief spread through Yngvar’s shoulders. He was careful to rise slowly and offer no further violence.

Svein’s bottom lip bled and his bountiful beard had lost its neat shape. A lock of auburn hair draped over his left eye, which was creased in pleasure. Looking at him now, Yngvar read the signs of status he had missed.

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