Blood Eye(108)
'What does your heathen lord have in mind?' Penda asked. He looked exhausted.
'We're going to charge them,' I said, making sure my helmet was pushed firmly down. 'If you want to join your people, Penda, now is the time.'
'They can suck the Devil's prick,' he said, shrugging some life back into his shield arm.
A hand gripped my shoulder and I turned to face Bjorn. 'Raven, Sigurd says you must take the English girl and get out,' he said sternly. Blood was spilling into his fair beard from a cut below his eye. 'Get away from this place.'
'No, brother, I stay here,' I said. I caught Sigurd's eye and he nodded firmly, confirming his wishes. The English took up their chanting again, this time repeating the word 'out, out, out', thumping swords against shields. I left the shieldwall, pushed past Bjorn and strode towards Sigurd, catching Cynethryth's eye as she knelt with Weohstan's head on her lap. 'I am staying with you, lord,' I said, glimpsing Svein the Red who was snarling like a beast, so that even the numerous English could not have relished the thought of fighting him. 'We can win this fight,' I said, though I knew we could not.
Sigurd smiled then, his eyes that held the blue ocean shining brightly below the helmet's rim. 'You have been loyal to me, Raven,' he said, 'and I do not expect you to change now. Do as I tell you.' I clenched my jaw. 'Or are you still an Englishman after all? Like them?' he asked, gesturing towards the shouting warriors who were preparing to come again.
'I am a Norseman, lord!' I said angrily. 'I am a wolf and if I must die here, I am ready.'
'Then who will tell of these brave men,' he asked, 'and how they spent their last moments in this world? You will be a great warrior, Raven, but these men are great warriors. Look at them.' I glanced at Svein the Red, immovable like a great rock. Bram, growling like a hungry bear. There was old Asgot, still and menacing, and the brothers Bjorn and Bjarni, both light-hearted men, yet efficient killers. Even the Englishman Penda. Sigurd was right. They were all great warriors and I was arrogant to believe I belonged amongst them. Sigurd's face softened. 'Get to Floki. He is with the ships. You must go so that you can tell others how they fought,' he said. 'How they cut the English down as a man cuts wheat. They must not be denied their story because of a boy's pride.' Those words stung me and the chanting was deafening now and the Norsemen took up their own chant of 'Óðin! Óðin! Óðin!'
'Think of the girl, Raven,' Sigurd said above the noise. He nodded towards Cynethryth. 'There is another way to gain immortality, lad. Take the girl! Put your seed in her belly. Raise children who will grow up around you. Live, Raven.' He held my eye for a heartbeat and then turned and gave a roar that somehow drowned out every other voice. Sigurd charged and the Wolfpack with him. And I ran towards Cynethryth.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I SLASHED MY SWORD ACROSS A BEARDED NECK AND THEN WE WERE clear, briars tearing at our hands and faces, conspiring to trip and bind us as I savagely pulled Cynethryth on. Sigurd's charge surprised the English and the bloody chaos covered our escape, but a horseman at their rear saw us and cantered south through the trees to cut us off. Luckily, though, the stallion had not seen us. It reared in shock as we burst from a clump of elder, and I let go of Cynethryth and slammed my shielded shoulder into its belly. It shrieked and fell sideways, crushing the rider, and we ran on, hoping every other Wessexman was too busy fighting for his life to care about us. For the second time, Cynethryth and I found ourselves fugitives in the Wessex forest.
The battle's noise receded, smothered by countless ancient trees, and we stopped for breath by an old oak. I vomited, unable to hold the burning shame in my belly. 'I should be with them!' I yelled, spitting out the bitterness. 'What am I doing?'
'Shhh, Raven,' Cynethryth hissed. She was bent over, heaving for breath. 'My father's men will hear you.' She was drenched in her brother's blood and looked like a wild creature.
'I am of the Fellowship, Cynethryth! I should be with them, not running like a hunted animal. Like a coward.'
She strode forward and slammed her fists against my chest. 'And what should I do? Should I fight them, too? Am I a warrior?' She stepped away. 'How brave you must be, fighting like some starved beast!' She wiped her face, smearing Weohstan's blood across her cheek. 'What about me? Look at my fine brynja. My sword,' she clutched a fistful of her blood-soaked linen dress, 'my helmet and gambeson. Look, Raven! Should I go back there and fight the men I betrayed today? Then stop them from raping me?'
'Óðin will think me a coward, Cynethryth,' I said. I was weeping. 'I have nothing without them.' The noise of battle was faint now, but every now and again a louder scream or the ring of iron carried to us on the breeze.