Blood Eye(27)

'Then you and the others must hide, Glum. Back there among the trees,' I said. 'You look like a pack of slobbering wolves.' Glum nodded, gesturing for the men to take cover. Another peal of thunder rolled up from the south and I gripped my cloak tightly round my neck to stop the rain getting in. Then I made my way along a muddy track towards the butcher's, my mouth watering at the thought of its juicy treasure.





'That is much silver you have in your hand, Osric!' Black Floki called after me. 'The gods will curse you if you betray us. And I will find you!' I did not have to turn round to know that Floki was gripping his sword hilt, and that his teeth showed like fangs amongst his thick, dark hair.





The silver in my hand is that which you took from the men you killed, Norseman, I thought. Did the gods curse you for taking it from those who earned it through toil? I doubt it. It is more likely that Njörd sent you a good tide, that Thór laid a thick fog across the sea to hide your approach, and that Óðin God of War guided your blade to strike down your enemies.





I tramped along a worn path that weaved like a spider's web catching every dwelling, and threw a stick for a dog that had come to sniff at me. I passed houses with open doors and saw women working hand spindles and looms, making the most of the poor light to weave their cloth. Many of the menfolk would be up in the pastures herding sheep before bringing them back to the pens for washing and shearing, though I passed two stretching a deerskin over a frame, too busy to notice me as they began to scrape off the hair and fat. My ears filled with the ringing of the forge and there was comfort in the sound so that I believed no harm would befall me as long as the rhythm remained unbroken.





Then I found myself standing before two hanging pig carcasses, several chickens, three flapping skylarks, and a brace of dead hares, one with a bloodied eye like my own. A rich, herb-scented smoke drifted from the dark interior of the house and I peered inside to see more hanging shapes, joints of meat being smoked, and my mouth watered at the sweet smell. I took a long, delicious breath as a great mass stepped out of the darkness, grey smoke billowing in its wake.





'You have beef?' I asked, peering round a pig carcass to meet the eyes of this bear of a man. He was almost as big as Svein the Red.





'Who wants to know?' came the gruff reply. He lifted the pig off its hook and slammed it on to a wooden bench whose grain was stained with blood. Then he pulled a foreleg wide, picked up a hand axe and brought it down with a great thud, severing the leg easily.





'I am Osric,' I said, holding out the bulging leather scrip, 'and I have come for meat.'





CHAPTER FIVE




THE BUTCHER'S NAME WAS EOSTERWINE AND I WAS RELIEVED THAT he did not ask how I had come by so much coin. I suppose he was like every other merchant; he could smell money and would not jeopardize his coming by it with unnecessary questions.





'You'll never have tasted better beef, lad!' the man boasted, hands on hips whilst Floki and the others shouldered the joints of meat and prepared to head back to the ships.





'My master will be the judge of that,' I dared, 'but thank you, Eosterwine. And may God be with you,' I added loudly enough for two newly arrived horsemen to hear. I paid them no heed, slinging the brace of hares over my shoulder and heading off towards the hill.





'They're eyeballing us, Uncle,' Glum hissed under his breath.





'Warriors by the looks of them,' Ingolf said.





'Just keep moving and stop looking at 'em,' Olaf mumbled through a broad showy smile. 'The bastards'll think you fancy them, Ingolf.' Then the riders set off slowly down the hill, heading towards a point where their muddied path crossed ours.





'We're fucked now,' Black Floki said with a vicious grin. 'We'll have to cut them up.'





'Ignore them, Floki, and hold your tongue,' I said.





'It's up to you now, Osric,' Glum said, the glint of violence in his ocean-blue eyes.





Laden with joints of meat, the six of us shuffled along the slippery path, careful not to lose our footing. I noticed that the ringing of the forge had stopped and I swore under my breath.





'That's some feast you men are in for!' The tattooed rider's voice was deep and sure. He was heavily muscled and his arms were bare but for the many silver warrior rings adorning them. Guessing that the man had spoken about the meat, Glum nodded and slapped the carcass on his shoulder.





'No feast, I'm sad to say,' I replied with a tired smile. 'My master is going on pilgrimage across the sea and we are fetching supplies for the voyage. We'll salt this lot and then it will have to last for many weeks, may the Lord protect us and bless our humble ship.' I smiled. 'Eosterwine assures me we have never tasted better beef.'