The Burning Land Part 12

"Or for me to have a better idea," I suggested, and just then there was another rap on the back door, louder this time, and again I nodded to Sihtric to unbar.

Guthlac now stood in the doorway. He still wore his mail, but had donned a helmet and carried a s.h.i.+eld as added protection. "A truce while we talk?" he suggested.

"You mean we're at war?" I asked.

"I mean you let me talk, then let me go," he said truculently, tugging at one of his long black mustaches.

"We shall talk," I agreed, "then you can go."

He took a cautious step into the room, where he looked somewhat surprised to see how well armed my men were. "I've sent for my lord's household troops," he said.

"That was probably wise," I said, "because your men can't beat mine."

He frowned at that. "We don't want a fight!"

"We do," I said enthusiastically, "we were hoping for a fight. Nothing finishes an evening in a tavern so well as a fight, don't you agree?"

"Maybe a woman?" Finan suggested, grinning at Ethne.

"True," I agreed. "Ale first, next a fight, then a woman. Just like Valhalla. So tell us when you're ready, Guthlac, and we'll have the fight."

"Yield yourself, lord," he said. "We were told you might be coming, and it seems Alfred of Wess.e.x wants you. He doesn't want your life, lord, just your body. Yours and the woman's."

"I don't want Alfred to have my body," I said.

Guthlac sighed. "We're going to stop you leaving, lord," he said patiently. "I've got fourteen hunters with bows waiting for you. You'll doubtless kill some men, lord, and that will be another crime to add to your offenses, but my archers will kill some of your men, and we don't want to. Your men and your s.h.i.+p are free to leave, but you're not. Nor is the woman," he looked at Skade, "Edith."

I smiled at him. "So take me! But remember I'm the man who killed Ubba Lothbrokson beside the sea."

Guthlac looked at my sword, tugged on his mustache again, and took a step backward. "I won't die on that blade, lord," he said, "I'll wait for my lord's troops. They'll take you, and kill the rest of you. So I advise that you yield, lord, before they arrive."

"You want me to yield now so you get the reward?"

"And what's wrong with that?" he asked belligerently.

"How much is it?"

"Enough," he said. "So do you yield?"

"Wait outside," I told him, "and you'll find out."

"What of them?" he asked, nodding toward the local men who had been trapped inside the Goose with us. None held any value as a hostage and so I sent them away with Guthlac. They ran into the back yard, doubtless relieved they were not to be part of the slaughter they expected to redden the tavern's floor.

Guthlac was a fool. What he should have done was charge into the tavern and overwhelm us, or, if he merely wanted to trap us until trained troops arrived, he should have barricaded both doors with some of the giant ale barrels from the yard. As it was he had split his troops into two bands. I estimated there were fifty waiting between us and Seolferwulf Seolferwulf, and as many again in the back yard. I was thinking that my score of men could fight their way through those fifty on the quay, but I knew we would take casualties reaching the s.h.i.+p. The bows would kill a handful of men and women before we got among the enemy, and none of us wore mail. I wanted to escape without any of my people being killed or wounded.

I ordered Sihtric to keep a watch on the back yard, which was easily done through a gap in the wattle wall. Another man watched the quay. "Tell me when they leave," I said.

"Leave?" Finan asked, grinning, "why would they leave, lord?"

"Always make the enemy do what you want them to do," I said, and I climbed the ladder to the wh.o.r.e-loft where three girls clung to each other on one of the straw mattresses. I grinned at them. "How are you, ladies?" I asked. None of the three answered, but just watched as I attacked the underside of the low thatched roof with Wasp-Sting. "We're leaving soon," I said to them, speaking English, "and you're welcome to come with us. A lot of my men don't have a woman. Better to be married to a warrior than whoring for that fat Dane. Is he a good master?"

"No," one of them said in a very low voice.

"He likes to whip you?" I guessed. I had ripped out a great bundle of reeds and the smoke from the tavern fire began to drift through the new smoke-hole I had made. Guthlac would doubtless see the fresh hole I had made in his roof, but it was unlikely he would send men to block it. He would need ladders.

"Finan!" I called down, "bring me fire!"

An arrow thumped into the roof, confirming that Guthlac had indeed seen the hole. He must have thought I was trying to lead my men out of the torn thatch and his archers now shot up at the roof, but they were in the wrong place to send their arrows through the new gap. They could only shoot across the ragged hole, which meant that any man trying to escape would have been hit as soon as he clambered through the thatch, but that was not why I had torn down the moldering reed. I looked back to the girls. "We'll be leaving very soon," I said. "If you want to come with us then get dressed, go down the ladder, and wait by the front door."

After that it was simple. I hurled burning sc.r.a.ps of driftwood from the tavern fire as far as I could and watched them fall onto the thatched roofs of the nearby cottages. I burned my hand, but that was a small price to pay as the flames caught the reeds and flared bright. A dozen of my men were pa.s.sing the fiery brands up the ladder, and I threw each flaming timber as far as I could, trying to set fire to as many houses as I could reach.

No man could watch his town burning. Fire is a huge fear, for thatch and timber burn easily, and a fire in one house will quickly spread to others, and Guthlac's men, hearing the screams of their women and children, deserted him. They used rakes to pull the burning thatch off the rafters and they carried pails of water from the river, and all we had to do was open the tavern's front door and go to the s.h.i.+p.

Most of my men and two of the wh.o.r.es did just that, running down the pier and reaching the safety of the s.h.i.+p, where Osferth's men were armored and armed, but Finan and I dodged into the alley beside the Goose. The town was lurid with flames now. Men shouted, dogs barked, and woken gulls screamed. The fire was noisy, and panicking folk screamed contrary orders as they desperately tried to save their property. Heaps of burning thatch filled the streets while the sky was red with sparks. Guthlac, intent on saving the Goose, was shouting at men to pull down the house nearest to the tavern, but in the confusion no one was taking any notice of him. Nor did they notice Finan and me as we emerged into the street behind the tavern.

I had armed myself with a log from the tavern, one of those waiting to be put on the fire, and I just swung it hard so that it smashed into the side of Guthlac's helmet, and he went down like an ox that had been spiked between the eyes. I took hold of his mail coat and used it to haul him back into the alley, then down the pier. He was heavy, so it took three of my men to carry him across the trading s.h.i.+p and throw him onto Seolferwulf Seolferwulf, and then, satisfied that all my crew was safe, we loosed the mooring lines. The s.h.i.+p drifted upstream on the incoming tide, and we countered it with oar strokes, backing water as we waited for the ebb to start.

We watched Dumnoc burn. Six or seven houses were alight now, their flames roaring like a furnace and spewing sparks high into the night sky. The fires lit the scene, throwing a raw shaky light across the river. We saw men pull down houses to make a gap over which they hoped the flames would not jump and we saw a chain of folk pa.s.sing water from the river, and we just watched, amused. Guthlac recovered his senses to find himself sitting on the small prow platform, stripped of his mail and bound hand and foot. I had put the wolf's head back on the bows. "Enjoy the view, Guthlac," I said.

He groaned, then remembered the purse at his waist into which he had put the silver I had paid him for our supplies. He felt inside, and found no coins left. He groaned again and looked up at me and this time saw the warrior who had killed Ubba Lothbrokson beside the sea. I was in full war-gear, mailed and helmeted, with Serpent-Breath hanging from my silver-studded belt.

"I was doing my duty, lord," Guthlac said.

I could see mailed men ash.o.r.e and guessed the household troops of whoever was Guthlac's lord had arrived, but they could do nothing to hurt us unless they decided to crew one of the moored s.h.i.+ps, but they made no attempt to do that. They just watched the town burning, and sometimes turned to gaze at us. "They could at least p.i.s.s on the flames," Finan said reprovingly, "do something useful!" He frowned down at Guthlac. "What do we do with this one, lord?

"I was thinking of giving him to Skade," I said. Guthlac looked at her, she smiled, and he shuddered. "When I first met her," I told Guthlac, "she'd just tortured a thegn. She killed him and it wasn't pretty."

"I wanted to know where his gold was," she explained.

"It wasn't pretty at all," I said. Guthlac flinched.

Seolferwulf hung in the slack tide. It was high-water now and the river looked wide, but that was deceptive because beneath the s.h.i.+vering red-reflecting surface were shoals of mud and sand. The current would help us soon, but I wanted to wait until there was sufficient daylight to see the channel markers, and so my men stirred their oars to keep us lingering off the burning town. "What you should have done," I told Guthlac, "is brought your men right into the tavern while we were drinking. You'd have lost a few, but you'd at least have stood a chance." hung in the slack tide. It was high-water now and the river looked wide, but that was deceptive because beneath the s.h.i.+vering red-reflecting surface were shoals of mud and sand. The current would help us soon, but I wanted to wait until there was sufficient daylight to see the channel markers, and so my men stirred their oars to keep us lingering off the burning town. "What you should have done," I told Guthlac, "is brought your men right into the tavern while we were drinking. You'd have lost a few, but you'd at least have stood a chance."

"You're going to put me ash.o.r.e?" he asked plaintively.

"Of course I am," I said pleasantly, "but not yet. Look at that!" A house had just collapsed into its own flames and the great beams and rafters exploded gouts of flame, smoke, and sparks toward the clouds. The roof of the Goose had caught the fire now and, as it flared bright in the sky, my men cheered.

We left unmolested, sliding down the river in the day's first wan light. We rowed to the channel's end where the water fretted white and wide on the long shoals, and it was there that I untied Guthlac's bonds and pushed him to Seolferwulf Seolferwulf 's stern. I stood beside him on the steering platform. The tide was taking us farther out to sea, and the s.h.i.+p was shuddering and bucking to the wind-driven waves. "Last night," I said to Guthlac, "you told us we were welcome in Dumnoc. You gave us leave to spend the night in peace, remember?" 's stern. I stood beside him on the steering platform. The tide was taking us farther out to sea, and the s.h.i.+p was shuddering and bucking to the wind-driven waves. "Last night," I said to Guthlac, "you told us we were welcome in Dumnoc. You gave us leave to spend the night in peace, remember?"

He just looked at me.

"You broke your word," I said. He still said nothing. "You broke your word," I said again, and all he could do was shake his head in terror. "So you want to go ash.o.r.e?"

"Yes, lord," he said.

"Then make your own way," I said, and pushed him overboard. He gave a cry, there was a splash as he fell, then Finan rapped the order for the oars to bite.

Later, many days later, Osferth asked me why I had killed Guthlac. "He was harmless, surely, lord?" he asked, "just a fool?"

"Reputation," I answered, and saw Osferth's puzzlement. "He challenged me," I explained, "and if I had let him live then he would have boasted that he challenged Uhtred of Bebbanburg and lived."

"So he had to die, lord?"

"Yes," I said, and Guthlac did die. We rowed offsh.o.r.e and I watched the reeve struggle in our wake. For a moment or two he managed to keep his head above water, then he vanished. We hoisted the sail, felt the s.h.i.+p lean to the long wind, and headed north.

We had more fog, more days and nights in empty creeks, but then the winds swung to the east and the air cleared and Seolferwulf Seolferwulf leaped northward. Winter had touched the air. leaped northward. Winter had touched the air.

The last day of the voyage was bright and cold. We had spent the night offsh.o.r.e, and so reached our destination in the morning. The wolf's head was on the prow, and the sight of it sent small fis.h.i.+ng boats scurrying for shelter among the scatter of rocky islands where seals glistened and stubby puffins whirred into the sky. I had taken down the sail and, in the long gray swells, rowed Seolferwulf Seolferwulf closer to the sandy beach. "Hold her here," I ordered Finan. The oars rested and the s.h.i.+p heaved slow. I stood in the prow with Skade and gazed westward. I was dressed in my war-glory. Mail and helmet and sword and arm rings. closer to the sandy beach. "Hold her here," I ordered Finan. The oars rested and the s.h.i.+p heaved slow. I stood in the prow with Skade and gazed westward. I was dressed in my war-glory. Mail and helmet and sword and arm rings.

I was remembering a far-off day when I had been on this same beach and had watched, amazed, as three s.h.i.+ps came southward to ride the waves as Seolferwulf Seolferwulf now rode them. I had been a child, and that had been my first glimpse of the Danes. I had marveled at their s.h.i.+ps, so lean and beautiful, and at the symmetry of their oar-banks that had risen and fallen like magic wings. I had watched, astonished, as the Danish leader had run the oars in full armor, stepping from shaft to shaft, risking death with every step, and I had listened to my father and my uncle curse the newcomers. Within hours my brother had been killed, and within weeks my father followed him to the grave, and my uncle had stolen Bebbanburg and I had joined the family of the oar-runner, Ragnar the Fearless. I learned Danish, fought for the Danes, forgot Christ and welcomed Odin, and it had all begun here, at Bebbanburg. now rode them. I had been a child, and that had been my first glimpse of the Danes. I had marveled at their s.h.i.+ps, so lean and beautiful, and at the symmetry of their oar-banks that had risen and fallen like magic wings. I had watched, astonished, as the Danish leader had run the oars in full armor, stepping from shaft to shaft, risking death with every step, and I had listened to my father and my uncle curse the newcomers. Within hours my brother had been killed, and within weeks my father followed him to the grave, and my uncle had stolen Bebbanburg and I had joined the family of the oar-runner, Ragnar the Fearless. I learned Danish, fought for the Danes, forgot Christ and welcomed Odin, and it had all begun here, at Bebbanburg.

"Your home?" Skade asked.

"My home," I said, for I am Uhtred of Bebbanburg and I was gazing at that great fortress on its rearing rock above the sea. Men lined the wooden ramparts and stared back. Above them, flying from a staff erected on the seaward gable of the great hall, was the flag of my family, the wolf's head, and I ordered the same flag hoisted on our mast, though there was hardly enough wind to display it. "I'm letting them know that I live," I told her, "and that so long as I live they should be frightened." And then fate put a thought into my head and I knew I would never retake Bebbanburg, would never scale the rock and climb the walls unless I did what Ragnar had done so many years before. The prospect frightened me, but fate is inexorable. The spinners were watching me, waiting, needles poised, and unless I did their bidding then my fate would be failure. I had to run the oars.

"Hold the oars steady!" I ordered the twenty rowers on the landward flank. "Hold them level and hold them hard!"

"Lord," Skade said warningly, but I saw the excitement in her eyes too.

I had worn my full armor to appear as a warlord to my uncle's men in Bebbanburg, and now they might watch me die because one slip on the long shafts would send me to the sea's bed, dragged down by the mail I wore. But the conviction was too strong on me. To gain everything a man must risk everything.

I drew Serpent-Breath. I held her high in the air so that the garrison of the stronghold would see the sun glint on the long steel, then I stepped off the s.h.i.+p's side.

The trick of walking the oar-bank is to do it fast, but not so fast that it looks like a panicked run. It was twenty steps that had to be taken with a straight back to make it look easy, and I remember the s.h.i.+p rolling and the fear twitching in me, and each oar dipping beneath my tread, yet I made those twenty steps and leaped off the last oar to scramble onto the stern where Sihtric steadied me as my men cheered.

"You d.a.m.ned fool, lord," Finan said fondly.

"I'm coming!" I shouted at the fortress, but I doubt the words carried. The waves broke white and sucked back from the beach. The rocks above the beach were white with frost. It was a gray-white fortress. It was home. "One day," I said to my men, "we shall all live there." Then we turned the s.h.i.+p, hoisted the sail again, and went south. I watched the ramparts till they vanished.

And that same day we slid into the river mouth I knew so well. I had taken the wolf's head off the prow because this was friendly land, and I saw the beacon on the hill and the ruined monastery and the beach where the red s.h.i.+p had rescued me, and then, on the height of the tide, I ran Seolferwulf Seolferwulf onto the s.h.i.+ngle where over thirty other s.h.i.+ps were already beached, all guarded by a small fort beside the ruined monastery on the hill. I jumped ash.o.r.e, stamped my feet in the s.h.i.+ngle, and watched the hors.e.m.e.n riding from the fort. They came to discover our business and one lowered a spear toward me. "Who are you?" he demanded. onto the s.h.i.+ngle where over thirty other s.h.i.+ps were already beached, all guarded by a small fort beside the ruined monastery on the hill. I jumped ash.o.r.e, stamped my feet in the s.h.i.+ngle, and watched the hors.e.m.e.n riding from the fort. They came to discover our business and one lowered a spear toward me. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

The spear-point lowered and the man smiled. "We were told to expect you sooner, lord."

"There was fog."

"And you are welcome, lord. Whatever you need is yours. Whatever!"

And there was warmth, food, ale, welcome, and next morning horses for Finan, Skade, and myself, and we rode southwest, not far, and my crew came with me. An ox-drawn cart carried the treasure chest, our armor, and our weapons. Seolferwulf Seolferwulf was safe in the river, guarded by the garrison there, but we went to the greater fortress, the place I had known we would be welcomed, and the lord of that greater fortress rode to greet us. He was roaring incoherently, shouting and laughing, and he leaped from his horse, as I did, and we met on the track where we embraced. was safe in the river, guarded by the garrison there, but we went to the greater fortress, the place I had known we would be welcomed, and the lord of that greater fortress rode to greet us. He was roaring incoherently, shouting and laughing, and he leaped from his horse, as I did, and we met on the track where we embraced.

Ragnar. Jarl Ragnar, friend and brother. Ragnar of Dunholm, Dane and Viking, lord of the north, and he clasped me, then punched a fist into my shoulder. "You look older," he said, "older and much uglier."

"Then I get more like you," I said.

He laughed at that. He stepped back and I saw how big his belly had grown in the years since we had last met. He was not fat, just bigger, but he seemed as happy as ever. "You're all welcome," he bellowed at my crew. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

"We were slowed by fog," I explained.

"I thought you might be dead," he said, "then I thought that the G.o.ds don't want your miserable company yet." He paused, remembering suddenly, and his face straightened. He frowned, and could not look into my eyes. "I wept when I heard about Gisela."

"Thank you."

He nodded abruptly, then put an arm round my shoulder and walked with me. The s.h.i.+eld hand draped round my neck was mangled from the battle at Ethandun, where Alfred had destroyed Guthrum's great army. I had fought for Alfred that day, and Ragnar, my closest friend, had fought for Guthrum.

Ragnar looked so like his father. He had a broad generous face, bright eyes, and the fastest smile of anyone I knew. His hair was fair, like mine, and we had often been taken as brothers. His father had treated me as a son and, if I had a brother, it was Ragnar. "You heard what happened in Mercia?" he asked me. "No."

"Alfred's forces a.s.saulted Harald," he said.

"On Torneie?"

"Wherever he was. What I hear is that Harald was bedridden, his men were starving, they were trapped, they were outnumbered, so the Mercians and West Saxons decided to finish them off."

"So Harald's dead?"

"Of course he's not dead!" Ragnar said happily. "Harald's a Dane! He fought the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds off, sent them running away." He laughed. "Alfred, I hear, is not a happy man."

"He never was," I said. "He's G.o.d-haunted."

Ragnar turned and stole a look at Skade, who was still in her saddle. "Is that Harald's woman?"

"Yes."

"She looks like trouble," he said. "So do we sell her back to Skirnir?"

"No."

He grinned. "So she isn't Harald's woman now?"

"No."

"Poor woman," he said, and laughed.

"What do you know about Skirnir?"

"I know he's offering gold for her return."

"And Alfred's offering gold for my return?"

"He is indeed!" Ragnar said cheerfully. "I was thinking I could truss you up like a goat and make myself even wealthier." He paused because we had come within sight of Dunholm that stood atop its great rock in the loop of the river. His standard of the eagle's wing flew above the fortress. "Welcome home," he said warmly.

I had come north and, for the first time in years, felt free.

Brida waited in the fortress. She was an East Anglian and Ragnar's woman, and she took me in her arms, said nothing, and I just felt her sorrow for Gisela. "Fate," I said.

She stepped back and ran a finger down my face, looking at me as if wondering what the years had done. "Her brother is dying too," she said.

"But he's still king?"