'Yes, it felt good,' I said truthfully, 'and I would have killed Glum too if Jarl Sigurd hadn't stopped me.' Though I doubted I could have scratched Glum before he cut me down.
'You admire that whoreson, don't you, lad?' Mauger said, meaning Sigurd. 'That bastard took you from your home – no point denying that, lad – burned the place to the ground and split your old friend's belly before dragging his guts round a tree. And you'd still die for him. You're a bloody fool.'
'Sigurd didn't kill Ealhstan,' I said.
'Might as well have. They're all the same. Heathen bastards.'
I shook my head. 'You're wrong. Sigurd sees something I could never have dreamed of before. He weaves his own story and I will be a part of it.'
'You want some of these, lad?' he asked, touching a bracelet of twisted silver which circled the bulge in his upper arm. Pride lit his eyes.
I eyed the ring hungrily. 'I want what they want, Mauger, what Sigurd wants,' I said, as something rustled in a grass tussock and then plopped into the water. There was a bend in the river, slowing the current enough for frogs and grass snakes to set their traps. 'I will follow Sigurd and he will give me glory,' I said, embarrassed by the admission.
'Pah! Glory is never given, lad.' Mauger spat with a grimace. 'You have to take it at the end of a bloody sword, and you're as likely to be killed by another man chasing the same bastard dream. Staying alive is the only thing a warrior should set his heart on. He can expect or hope for no more.'
'But men remember us for the things we do, Mauger. The great things,' I said, wondering how many men he had killed. 'Olaf says the skalds in the halls of the northlands already sing songs of Sigurd. His name is known. Men fear him, and even the grey sea cannot confine his fame.' I lengthened my stride, forcing Mauger to do the same. 'Our names will resound in the drinking halls of kings. They will become ingrained like smoke in stout oak beams, felt by our sons and their sons after them.' I touched the amulet at my neck. 'But only if we are worthy. That is what Sigurd says. Only then will Óðin send his death maidens for us when our time comes.'
'You believe in their gods too?' Mauger asked gruffly.
'I have seen the Wolfpack fight, Mauger, as have you. I have seen them kill as though it were as easy as drawing breath. Their gods love battle and battle is the path to glory. They are my gods now. Maybe they have always been,' I dared, hoping the Christian god was not listening. I stepped up again, so that Mauger had no more breath to waste on talk. In those days I was arrogant and intoxicated by the Norsemen, and I believed the Norns of fate wove our futures. But I also believed we could guide their old hands, and for that I was a fool.
'That must be it,' I said later, pointing to the east where we could make out wisps of grey smoke rising to dirty the sky. A lone cloud suddenly snuffed out the watery sun above us, casting the yellow gorse and bristle grass into shadow and stilling the cry of a warbler nesting nearby. I took this as a good omen, meaning that the great warrior king of Mercia would be blind to our ruse. The shield slung over my back was starting to rub and I looked forward to taking it off.
'Aye, that's it all right,' Mauger confirmed, scratching his thick beard. 'We'll keep going until we reach that hill in the distance, then track east and come in from the north. You remember the story?' He palmed sweat from his brow.
I stared at the rising smoke, wondering what lay in store for us at Coenwulf's hall, then touched the pommel of my sword, the sword I had killed with. 'I remember,' I said. I felt for the amulet of Óðin at my neck, tucking it deep inside my clothes, and then checked the rest of my gear, my mail, sword scabbard and helm, in case they bore any pagan designs I had overlooked. A swineherd called a greeting. Mauger raised a hand and we carried on, heads bowed, along the drying mud track which led up to the walled settlement. The smell of wood smoke and animals filled my nose, which was still swollen from the fight with Aslak, and I shuddered at the risk we were taking. For the ruse had begun and we had grave news for King Coenwulf.
'The ditch shouldn't be a problem for your friends but the wall looks sturdy enough,' Mauger muttered. 'Arse and bollocks!' He had trodden in fresh cow shit. 'You'll not get in uninvited,' he said, wiping his boot against a clump of grass beside the path.
'It'll burn,' I said, remembering Abbotsend in the grip of yellow flames.
After the time it takes to fletch an arrow and before I could think about changing my mind, we stood at the threshold of King Coenwulf's fortress. Sweat chilled the skin between my shoulder blades and Mauger suddenly seemed a hostile presence beside me.