her
needs!”
Thorolf stepped out of the booth into
the sunlight. Ozurr was behind him. Grim kept on. “There’s the man
whose fat daughter screwed away his honor! Are you really going to
fight for that cunt? Why, every farmer and his slave has probably
had his way with her!”
The blood ran from Thorolf’s face and
his eyes blazed. Colm knew then that there would be no settlement
now or ever. Sometimes fighting broke out at Althing, even though
weapons were not allowed. He thought of his sword, laid aside in
Thorolf’s booth, and considered how long it would take him to fetch
it.
Ozurr stepped forward. “You speak like a
fool!” he told Grim. “Don’t count on any help from me!”
“I never expected aught from you since
you failed to seek justice for my cousin!”
“The man was outlawed! He went into
hiding! If he had come to me before the sentence was
pronounced…”
“Ha!” Grim spat on the ground.
Ozurr started to speak, then fell quiet
as he caught sight of Snaekulf, standing behind the twins. The
berserk was silent. There was no telling how long he had been
standing there. All of Thorolf’s group quieted as they regarded
him. Snaekulf was a fearsome sight. His unblinking eyes with
pinpoint pupils and teeth bared in a not-grin chilled them all.
Colm wanted to say something that would rally the other men’s
spirits, but could not choke up a single word.
Grim’s eyes glittered. “Well, not
laughing now? Tell me, Olaf, when we are done, will you help me or
hunt me?”
“I urge you not to…”
“Enough of that! I am your follower!
Will you come after me?”
Ozurr spoke quietly. “No. But if you act
in this foolish way, I will not stay the vengeance of others. And
these three,” he waved his hand at Snaekulf and the twins, “Are
nothing to me. In fact, I blame you for bringing them here and for
causing these problems.”
Grim shrugged, turned on his heel, and
stalked off. Glum and Glam wheeled as one and followed but no one
laughed at them. Snaekulf regarded the others for a moment, then he
also turned and left.
“That is a hard-looking man,” said
Ozurr.
“He is only one and we are many,”
answered Thorolf.
“Yes,” said Ozurr. “Well, make certain
you are as many as possible when you take him on. You cannot be too
many for that man.”
Thorolf nodded. And Colm silently
agreed.
When Althing ended and the men took up
their weapons, Thorolf’s contingent travelled in a group back to
their farms. It was a tense caravan. The men clutched their sword
hilts and studied the rocky slopes for signs of ambush as they rode
along. The women caught the mood and muttered nervously in their
wagons. Magnus wanted everyone to ride at once to Grim’s farm and
attack whoever was there, but Thorolf’s scouts reported that the
place was empty. It was decided that each one would return to his
own farm and make ready to regroup as soon as Grim or any of his
party was spotted. Then they would all attack together.
Egil and Thorgils had adjoining farms
near the river. It seemed to Colm that they were pleased enough to
leave the group. He wondered how much use they would be in a fight.
He saw again, very clearly, that he was the main warrior here and
that the outcome of the fight would depend on him. He gathered
himself and thought how he would strike at the berserk. He saw his
sword slashing down and cleaving Snaekulf’s skull. There would be
no speeches, no taunts or boasts, just rush in and kill the man.
Colm set his mind to this and played it before his mind’s eye over
and over. Rush, slash, strike!
They turned up the valley where the rest
of the farms were situated. The first stop was at Svart’s farm.
They ate there and spent the night. The next day Thorolf dispatched
some slaves and farmhands to the ridge tops to scout for movement
by their enemies. Svart stayed at his farm and the rest travelled
on to Ketil’s place.
Magnus was next, still grumbling at not
being able to fight yet.
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