Blood Eye(48)

'Do you see that man, Father?' I asked, pointing to Asgot who sat away from the others, casting the rune stones. 'I have seen him pull the lungs from a Wessexman they defeated in battle. The man was still alive when they laid the lungs across his back.'





I don't think Egfrith believed me. 'What kind of beast would do such evil?' he asked, sniffing. 'Why would they do it?'





I shrugged. 'They did it because they respected the man's bravery. And they wished to honour Óðin.' I smiled. Egfrith had signed the cross in Asgot's direction. 'If I were you, Father,' I said, 'I would be more concerned that Ealdred keeps his word and hands back Sigurd's ships when we return. Wessex will know terror if he does not.'





Egfrith seemed to consider this for a moment. 'No pillaging,' he said, blinking his squinty eyes, 'and, Heaven forbid, no rape.'





'None would dare, Father. Not with you around,' I said and Egfrith frowned because he knew I was teasing him. Ulf walked past and barked in the monk's ear, and he jumped like a hooked fish. Ulf laughed and the monk flushed crimson with anger.





'Leave him be, Norseman!' someone shouted, and I turned to see Mauger at the foot of the track spilling down from the bluff.





'Mauger! You're back!' Egfrith exclaimed, throwing out his arms and shooting me a triumphant look. 'By Christ, Mauger, you've the manners of Saint Cuthbert himself, compared to these beasts,' he said.





'Come, Father,' the big warrior said, gripping Egfrith's bony shoulder, 'don't tell me this lot have you pissing your skirts already?'





'Of course not!' Egfrith said, puffing up his chest like a winter robin. 'I'm just surprised to see you, that's all. It is rare that Ealdred lets you off the leash. I thought he had left me alone with the heathens, a lamb amongst wolves,' he said, glancing anxiously at the bustle around him. 'And there's always the Welsh to think of.'





'The Welsh won't come near this lot, Father,' Mauger growled.





'I pray you're right, Mauger,' Egfrith said. Then he stood a little straighter. 'Of course, there is the divine righteousness of our search to buoy my spirit, to strengthen the will, so to speak, but quite apart from that I shall regard the whole thing as a penance, for even such as myself is not without sin. The soul must be cleansed at times.' He winced under Mauger's grip. 'That said, glad to have another Christian around.' His beady eyes seemed to be searching Mauger's, as though he hoped the big man would confirm his devotion to the faith.





'I'm no lamb, Father,' Mauger said, twisting a thick silver arm ring so that the most elaborate part was visible. Both his huge arms, criss-crossed with white scars among the tattoos, bulged beneath twelve such warrior rings. His pride in them was clear.





'You are coming with us?' Egfrith asked with sudden apprehension. Mauger nodded. 'Have you ever considered a penance, Mauger? A man like you, well . . . you must be stifled by your own sin.'





Mauger shrugged. 'Lord Ealdred's gone soft,' he muttered, 'and I'm coming with you, but you can keep your penance. I'm here to stop you bringing the Lord's wrath down on their heathen heads before they've done the job.'





'Of course,' the monk said with a sharp nod. 'It's just as well, Mauger, just as well. The Lord's justice blows like a purging gale and he with the power to summon it forth must possess wisdom in equal measure.'





'Balls,' Mauger said with a smile that revealed dark teeth. He gripped Egfrith's shoulder and looked at me. 'You and I both know I'm here to wipe your arse and make sure these devils don't cut your throat in the darkest hour of the night.' Egfrith blanched at the suggestion. 'Don't worry, monk,' Mauger said, winking at me as I held a skin into which Svein the Red poured water from a barrel. 'I won't let the barbarians lay a filthy hand on your curd-white arse.' Egfrith turned and shot Svein the Red a superior smile. Mauger looked a formidable warrior and Egfrith was clearly confident in the man's prowess. But Svein was being careful not to spill any liquid and did not look up from his task.





The sun had yet to ascend its throne when we took our last look at Serpent and Fjord-Elk, sitting majestically on the calm sea. It was ebbtide and the mooring ropes were so taut that a white gull sat on one of them pruning his feathers. As the small waves lapped the shore it seemed to me that those ships, those sleek proud dragons, longed to be cut free; as though they craved the open water away from this foreign shore and its men who threatened their timbers with fire.





'My father would piss on his pyre to see me turn my back on them,' Kon grumbled, slinging his round shield across his back as we climbed the rocky slope away from the beach.





'Aye, he would, Kon,' Olaf put in, 'but who has ever heard of your father, hey, lad? His name never carried to my ear. A man doesn't get remembered for taking the safest path. He just gets old.' Olaf grunted as he clambered up the steep trail, clutching tufts of coarse grass. I climbed in front of Ealhstan, helping him where I could. 'You've got to push yourself, Kon,' Olaf went on. 'Sigurd will make a man of you.'