Dripping water across the dirt floor as she moved, she headed for the far end of the hall, where Ulfrik had slept in a side room reserved for honored guests. His sword would be there.
She had reached the doorway when an old woman stepped out. With a scream, Runa fell back, a myriad thoughts in mind. Should she attack? Should she flee? Should she try to beguile the woman?
The old woman released a startled croak and Runa recognized her as Orm’s healer, Aud.
“Oh, you frightened me, child! I wondered who could be in here,” said Aud, putting her palm to her chest. “And look at you, sopping wet!”
“I … I returned too late,” Runa stuttered, choosing guile.
Aud had never been Runa’s friend, shouting at her and often striking her for being slow, but at least she was not hostile. She peered at Runa through baggy, squinting eyes, holding the look for a long while before remarking, “Why you would return is a mystery, child.” Aud went to Orm’s corpse and adjusted the pall that covered his face. “With your master dead, you should be burned with him.”
Runa’s eyes snapped to Aud, but the old woman merely continued to prepare Orm’s corpse, seeming uninterested.
Runa drew a breath before speaking. “I didn’t know he was dead. When I came back it was raining, and all the guards were running about. I feared raiders.”
Aud only nodded, and then took another peek beneath the shroud, as if ensuring the corpse was not eavesdropping. Then she sat next to the fire and let her hands collapse in her lap.
“We should gather at the hall if raiders come, right?” Runa said in a rush. She felt her face flush hotter every moment she was under Aud’s rheumy-eyed gaze.
“Of course, the best way to enter the hall is by throwing yourself through the window,” Aud noted, a smile bisecting the sagging folds of her face.
Runa opened her mouth but could not speak. Her hands began to tremble.
“You are a slave.” Aud gestured that she should sit by the fire. “And I’ve no mind for slaves, but you are different from the others. You’re quite a beauty; that’s why this one bought you.” Aud jabbed a thumb toward Orm’s corpse. “But you are also a Dane, and from a good family. I’ve seen it in your manners, child. You are too well bred to be a slave. Now, will you sit here a moment? I think no one will be coming along soon.”
Runa smiled and sat, relishing the fire’s heat. Now that Aud had casually brushed aside the excuse she had offered, she knew her best hope was in making Aud an ally. She glanced at the old woman, who guarded her thoughts behind crinkled eyelids. For an instant, Runa felt her hands itch. Her brother would have told her to throttle the crone and escape. Now was the time. But Runa doubted herself-doubted she could be so ruthless.
“So you know the truth,” Runa whispered. “I came back when I heard the commotion. I thought I could steal something of value, something to help buy my freedom.” She did not trust Aud enough to speak the truth.
Aud merely nodded. “There is little here, child,” she said. “Lord Grim has taken everything of any value. The old jarl will be buried with very little of his wealth.”
Runa shifted in her seat to face Aud directly. “Then will you let me go? I will take just some food, maybe a cloak. Will you allow me that much? If I ever get back to my family, I can repay you.”
Again, Aud nodded. Then she struggled up from her chair.
Runa’s heart pounded. It seemed Aud had assured her freedom. She had not yet retrieved Ulfrik’s belongings, but she would find another way.
Aud hobbled a few steps, and then began to walk more steadily. Waddling to one of the tables at the side of the hall, she gathered two cups and filled them in silence as Runa sat.
“It’s a cold night. You’ll need something to keep you. Here is some mead, and a bit of cheese. It’s not much, but better than what you’ll be eating in the future.” Aud held a wedge of cheese in one shriveled hand and a wooden cup of mead in the other.
Runa had not eaten since the night before. The scent of cheese stoked her appetite. Only after she drained the mug and stuffed the cheese in her mouth, did embarrassment overcome her. Aud laughed, and Runa’s shame deepened.
“Thank you, for your kindness.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I did not expect it.”
Aud laughed again, only harder, her laughter rising to a wicked timbre, and her smile warping into a leer. Immediately, Runa knew she had been duped: either the cheese or mead had been poisoned.
Now, she would throttle Aud. Her hands shot out, seeking the old woman’s scraggly neck. But she found that her fingers curled before her like a hag’s claw, her sight blurred, and Aud’s laughter became a ringing bell in her head. Somehow she found herself crashing face down toward the dirt floor.
“You’ll send me a reward, will you?” Aud cackled. “You stupid, bitch! You’ll burn with your master, like the slave you are. Your beautiful face will be ruined, you whore!”
So this is death, Runa thought, cold and black, and filled with the echoing laughter of a crazed hag. Then, even those sensations fled and she floated in a field of utter numbness.
Nine
Grim’s head throbbed and his face burned where the ax had cut. A day had passed since Ulfrik had given him the wound. The cut was not deep, except where the blade had cleft his bottom teeth, but one tooth had been dislodged in the blow and another fell out later. Grim’s tongue groped the bloody space continually, tasting raw flesh.
He was at rest in his room in the hall, which until yesterday had been his father’s. Soon, dawn would break and Aud would come with fresh bandages and a bitter poultice to stick into the gap of teeth. For now, he listened to the sound of warriors readying for battle: the clack of spear shafts and the crunch of mail, and all around the grumble of stern voices. Grim would have to stand before the men today, no matter how his wounds grieved him. The attack on Auden had already been delayed a day.
He heard Aud’s murmurs beyond the door, coupled with Vandrad’s sonorous voice. Grim dropped his bandaged head to the side. Would Vandrad give a moment’s respite? The answer was clear enough; Vandrad forced his way into the room ahead of Aud’s protests.
“Grim, we will be ready to march by noon. King Harald’s men have arrived.”
Grim stared up at the gauzy darkness.
With a muttered curse, Aud came to his side, placing a lit candle beside the bed while she removed his bandages. Grim tried to read her reaction to the sight of his wounds. Not a single wrinkle or fold twitched or tightened in her face.
“Your men are confused,” Vandrad continued, glancing over Aud as she worked.
Grim noted that his face registered nothing but concern for his damn plans.
“You must address your warriors, let them know you are ready.”
“Do not give orders to me!” Grim jerked to his elbows, knocking Aud away. Pain flamed in his jaw, only angering him more. “I know what I have to do.”
Vandrad did not balk at Grim’s outburst, but smiled. He was a tall man, broad shouldered and handsome with tawny hair that was oiled in place and a carefully attended beard-the embodiment of High King Harald’s court. “Then, Lord Grim, act on what you know. And I will remind you that I am King Harald’s agent and his cousin. Save your shouts for the battlefield.”