chest, its boss polished and undented, and on that shield was painted a wolf’s head. He was magnificent.
I knew Cynethryth was somewhere in that gathering but I resisted the urge to look for her. The Wessexmen stood with Ealdred and one of them cheered for Mauger, making the others bellow encouragement too, and then Sigurd’s men clamoured for their jarl and for a moment all was chaos. I saw Penda. He stood, arms folded, and raised his chin at me and that one small gesture somehow embodied the gravity of what was about to happen. I wanted to ask Sigurd to get someone else to second Mauger, one of the Englishmen perhaps, or even Ealdred himself. Why must I hold the man’s shields? I wouldsooner see him dead and I wanted to tell my jarl as much, but not a man alive would have interrupted Sigurd then. So I held my tongue and took my place behind Mauger who had ducked under the rope and now stood facing his opponent. Olaf stood behind Sigurd. The older man’s face was hard as a cliff face.
Asgot shuffled into the middle of the skins and stood between the warriors, his yellowed eyes heavy with worry and his lips cracked and dry from prayers. With a raised hand the godi silenced every tongue.
‘Mauger has accepted a challenge by the ancient rite of the hólmgang,’ he crowed, nodding to me, meaning I was to translate for the Wessexmen, which I did. ‘Each man must stand on this cloak and not draw a finger’s length outside it. Normally, the fight is over when one man’s blood shows on the cloak. Not tonight. This hólmgang will not end until one of these men is a corpse.’ Now Olaf ducked under the rope and stood within the lines Asgot had etched in the earth. I wondered what he was doing as Asgot continued. ‘Each warrior has his own shield-bearer who will defend him for as long as his shields hold.’ I felt as if I had been struck in the face. Asgot pointed a bony finger skyward. ‘But neither shield-bearer may strike his opponent or his opponent’s man or take part in the fight other than to defend.’
I looked at Sigurd, my eyes boring into him for some explanation or reprieve. It was one thing to hold Mauger’s shields, but defend him? How was I supposed to defend Mauger? Against Sigurd! I would sooner sink my knife into Mauger’s rancid guts.
‘As the representative of the man who has been challenged, Mauger may strike the first blow. After that the fight must rage unfettered and no man here may play a part.’ Now Asgot turned to Mauger and his face was a twisted knot of ancient hatred. ‘When my jarl has killed you,’ he hissed, ‘I will cut your limbs from your corpse. I will peel the skin from yourflesh. Your soul will go screaming to the afterlife and for all eternity no other soul shall ever recognize you for a man.’
The words chilled my blood and I could not see Mauger’s face, but I did see him spit at the godi’s feet and I admired him for it. Olaf gestured to me to climb into the square and I did, my heart hammering like a banner in the wind. Silence reigned for three heartbeats, then Mauger drew his great sword and roared like the opening of Hel’s gates. He leapt forward and smashed his sword into Sigurd’s shield, hoping to split it, but it was a good shield, as was the arm behind it, and Sigurd took the blow, though it must have shaken the marrow from his arm. Now the jarl lifted his father’s sword up and over his head and crashed it into Mauger’s shield, but Mauger angled the shield well, catching the weight of the sword on the iron rim. The onlookers yelled with a storm’s fury as the combatants swung their swords. The shields were battered and neither Olaf nor I could get close, not that I dared to even try.
Sigurd was taller but Mauger was broader and heavier. He slammed his right shoulder into Sigurd’s shield, forcing the jarl back so that the heel of his right foot was over the edge of the cloak. Sigurd leant into his shield and heaved, the corded veins in his neck
I knew Cynethryth was somewhere in that gathering but I resisted the urge to look for her. The Wessexmen stood with Ealdred and one of them cheered for Mauger, making the others bellow encouragement too, and then Sigurd’s men clamoured for their jarl and for a moment all was chaos. I saw Penda. He stood, arms folded, and raised his chin at me and that one small gesture somehow embodied the gravity of what was about to happen. I wanted to ask Sigurd to get someone else to second Mauger, one of the Englishmen perhaps, or even Ealdred himself. Why must I hold the man’s shields? I wouldsooner see him dead and I wanted to tell my jarl as much, but not a man alive would have interrupted Sigurd then. So I held my tongue and took my place behind Mauger who had ducked under the rope and now stood facing his opponent. Olaf stood behind Sigurd. The older man’s face was hard as a cliff face.
Asgot shuffled into the middle of the skins and stood between the warriors, his yellowed eyes heavy with worry and his lips cracked and dry from prayers. With a raised hand the godi silenced every tongue.
‘Mauger has accepted a challenge by the ancient rite of the hólmgang,’ he crowed, nodding to me, meaning I was to translate for the Wessexmen, which I did. ‘Each man must stand on this cloak and not draw a finger’s length outside it. Normally, the fight is over when one man’s blood shows on the cloak. Not tonight. This hólmgang will not end until one of these men is a corpse.’ Now Olaf ducked under the rope and stood within the lines Asgot had etched in the earth. I wondered what he was doing as Asgot continued. ‘Each warrior has his own shield-bearer who will defend him for as long as his shields hold.’ I felt as if I had been struck in the face. Asgot pointed a bony finger skyward. ‘But neither shield-bearer may strike his opponent or his opponent’s man or take part in the fight other than to defend.’
I looked at Sigurd, my eyes boring into him for some explanation or reprieve. It was one thing to hold Mauger’s shields, but defend him? How was I supposed to defend Mauger? Against Sigurd! I would sooner sink my knife into Mauger’s rancid guts.
‘As the representative of the man who has been challenged, Mauger may strike the first blow. After that the fight must rage unfettered and no man here may play a part.’ Now Asgot turned to Mauger and his face was a twisted knot of ancient hatred. ‘When my jarl has killed you,’ he hissed, ‘I will cut your limbs from your corpse. I will peel the skin from yourflesh. Your soul will go screaming to the afterlife and for all eternity no other soul shall ever recognize you for a man.’
The words chilled my blood and I could not see Mauger’s face, but I did see him spit at the godi’s feet and I admired him for it. Olaf gestured to me to climb into the square and I did, my heart hammering like a banner in the wind. Silence reigned for three heartbeats, then Mauger drew his great sword and roared like the opening of Hel’s gates. He leapt forward and smashed his sword into Sigurd’s shield, hoping to split it, but it was a good shield, as was the arm behind it, and Sigurd took the blow, though it must have shaken the marrow from his arm. Now the jarl lifted his father’s sword up and over his head and crashed it into Mauger’s shield, but Mauger angled the shield well, catching the weight of the sword on the iron rim. The onlookers yelled with a storm’s fury as the combatants swung their swords. The shields were battered and neither Olaf nor I could get close, not that I dared to even try.
Sigurd was taller but Mauger was broader and heavier. He slammed his right shoulder into Sigurd’s shield, forcing the jarl back so that the heel of his right foot was over the edge of the cloak. Sigurd leant into his shield and heaved, the corded veins in his neck
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