"I'll go first, and you come behind." Konal barred Runa from stepping through the breach. She did not resist.
Sweeping in behind Konal, she found a hall of women and children and elderly. Six men armed with swords and spears had ranked up at the center of the narrow hall. The light from the smoke hole dropped squarely on their heads, lining them in a bluish-white glow and filling the shallows of their faces with black.
As more men pushed inside, Runa strode the short span to the enemy. Holding her sword low and forward, she kept her shield high on her left. The men responded in kind, shifting into fighting stances. She searched their gaunt faces for Thorod, but could not identify him. All seemed equally poor.
"If this is all you can muster, you are defeated." Runa filled her voice with all the derision she possessed. "A hundred men surround you."
Her words drew cries and moans from the women. Her eyes did not leave the men arrayed against her, but she stretched her vision so no one might surprise her from the side. No one moved, except for her own warriors. Konal swept the line with his sword, pointing to all of them.
"One of you must be the leader, or you're at least hiding him. You can't be protecting these people, since we've already got them as hostages."
A girl shrieked with horror in time with Konal's words. Runa struggled not to turn behind, leaving herself open to attack. Yet the terrified screaming elicited more from others, until the hall vibrated with terrorized howls and the rough barks of the aggressors. The sounds returned awful memories of her own family hall being raided.
She shook her head. These are your enemies, she reminded herself, these men would rape you and your women, kill your men and take your children as slaves. Don't pity them because they cannot carry out their evil.
The six men wavered and stole glances at each other. Two of them were not young, gray hair showing at their temples and at the roots of their beards. One finally lowered his sword. "This is all that is left. That last of the hirdmen have joined with Skard."
"Liar!" Runa's sword flickered in the milky light, but one of the other men parried the half-hearted thrust with a spear. He did not counter, so Runa let her blade lower. "You are hiding Thorod here."
The man coughed a dry laugh. "We are hiding his bones under the earth. Thorod died of fever this winter, along with his wife and two sons. Only Gauti, his middle son, lived, and he took the hird to Skard." The man's expression grew distant, and his eyes clouded. "You came too late to defeat us. The fever claimed mostly men. The gods have extracted revenge for you."
That the gods might side with her shocked Runa. She scanned the hall, finding scared and desperate faces. These people were her enemies, but they were too much like her own.
"Better the gods burn you from the inside than me burning you in this hall." She pointed her blade at the man. "Your name?"
"I am Bjornolf, and for lack of anyone else I am who serves as a leader here."
"But Skard has the hird. So you serve him still." The man swallowed, and nodded. "Then you are my enemy. You will climb aboard Skard's ships, sail to my home, and slit my throat. But not before having your way with me. Am I mistaken? Five foolish young men tried that over winter, and I have their heads on poles to show how poor an idea that was. Yet it won't stop you, will it? A whole army at your back, kicking apart my hall and carrying away everything of worth."
Runa's voice intensified as she recounted all the horrors she knew awaited her when Skard finally organized his force. The man shook his head, but he refused to meet her eyes. She knew he lied.
"You have probably been to Nye Grenner to raid. Isn't that so, Bjornolf? Do you know who I am?"
"You are Ulfrik's wife."
"No! I am Runa the Bloody. And I will show you how I earned that name. Konal, bring me one of their children."
Konal did not react, merely regarding her with indifference. She shouted her command again, and he turned to the first child he spotted, grabbing a girl by the leg and dragging her forward. The hall erupted in screams. The six men lurched forward to defend the girl, but a wall of sharp iron warded them off.
Runa twisted her hand into the girl’s blond locks. She wondered if the child could feel her arms quivering with fear. Runa hoped someone had the sense to beg for her life, or she would have to follow through on her bluff.
"Men from this place have killed my people for years, either in battle or by raiding our flocks. How many young girls like this one have died because of you?" The girl screeched as Runa yanked her head. "You came in winter, with a knife at my son's throat. Let me return the favor."
Konal's men guarded the six enemy defenders too closely, making interference impossible. She placed the sword edge against girl's white, pulsing neck. Runa's head thundered. She was going to murder an innocent girl. She snarled, and the girl struggled, causing the blade to gash her neck. Bright blood flowed with the girl's cries, though the wound was not mortal.
At last the mother broke through and threw herself on her daughter.
Runa stepped away and released the girl, hoping her relief did not show to the others. The mother cradled her daughter, both sobbing uncontrollably. To maintain a fiction of ruthlessness, she kicked the mother over and dangled her sword at the woman's face.
"How many of your sons did you send to kill my people? I should cut you from gut to neck and drown your daughter in blood."
The woman screamed at the horrid description. Satisfied she had cowed these villagers, Runa returned to Bjornolf.
"Do you have children?"
Bjornolf shook his head, but a woman cowering in the corner of the hall called out, "You have a daughter!"
Runa's smile stretched as she watched Bjornolf glare at the woman. "Be glad, Bjornolf, for you have a chance to do good by your people. I see the gods have struck the hard blow you deserve. I will not waste my time here, but I need to be certain you will not betray my mercy. Give me your daughter."
"No, she is all I have left in the world."
"Konal, make sure Bjornolf dies slowly and without a weapon in his hand. Then take all the children hostage."
No sooner had she uttered the command than Bjornolf's people seized a young girl with blazing copper hair. She fought wildly, screaming for her father. Konal and his men tightened their distance to Bjornolf, who began to weep.
"You are a poor leader to your people." Runa said, watching the girl clawing at the villagers who shoved her into the arms of Konal's warriors. "You cry where you should rejoice. I have spared you, your daughter, and all the people hiding under your protection. But if anyone warns Skard of my coming, or tries to hinder us in any way, your beautiful daughter's head will be returned to you. Her body will be fed to sharks. Understood?"
Bjornolf nodded, and his daughter settled down. She was of an age with Gunnar, thin but possessed of wiry strength. Her hair was strikingly lustrous even in the poor light. "She doesn't look a bit like you. Are you deceiving me?"
"No," was his hoarse reply. "She is the very image of her mother. Dead this winter too."
"Pity," Runa said, turning away. "Everything of value here belongs to me. Konal and Kell, take what you will but leave the people unharmed."
She strode out of the hall, the villagers screaming protest. The men began tearing through the hall, while those outside began to pillage other buildings. Runa returned to the ship, slipping her shield over her back. Her pounding heart began to calm and her ragged breath evened out. She wanted to give Gunnar a hug, and to put the horrible morning behind her.
A summer storm preceded Runa's approach to Skardholmur. Despite its brief violence, Konal and his crew reveled in it. They screamed glory to Thor every time lightning struck and thunder followed. Black clouds had vanquished the afternoon sun, and winds churned the waters so the ships bobbed and rocked like leaves on a fast running creek. Gunnar and his friends joined the crew, and Runa had to drag him away from the rails as he stepped up to hail the lightning.