Asgerd nodded.?My Sigurd said he would have no coward, no weakling, to be mother of his sons or to guard his steading when he was away.?
Unexpectedly, Edain spoke as well.?I saw her shooting at the range earlier,? he said.?She?s got a good eye. The archer?s eye. Not the heaviest bow, but she?s sure, and fast; she?d pass trial for the First Levy at home. Though there?s room for improvement, of course.?
She shot him a look of startled gratitude; there was even the hint of a smile in it. Rudi nodded; that settled the question of her skill with the bow. Archery was something an Aylward took very seriously. ?I will accept your service, Asgerd Karlsdottir,? he said.?But I will tolerate nothing reckless or heedless. So, before we leave Eriksgarth you must swear to me by my own people?s oath. I give you fair warning: that oath will bind you tightly. My war band has but one will, and that one is mine.? ?I will swear that oath.?
Asgerd walked slowly back to her seat and sat; Rudi judged her stunned by success… and not the least regretful.
That brought a clamor of young Bjornings wanting to enlist with the questers. Rudi picked carefully, just enough to replace the Southsiders killed or too badly wounded to continue, six men and another woman.
Looking for adventure, I think, he decided. Or for a trip away from troubles; or perhaps for gain, rising with a King newcome to power and willing to risk all for it. Or such reasons mixed together. Not a bad start. I?ve been questing for the Sword; but once I have it, I must build a host. ?And that is all for now,? he said firmly; he thought Bjarni looked a little relieved.?When I return with the Sword, we shall see what we shall see. I fear that my blood brother will need all the strong sword arms he can muster before then, and need them here.?
There were pleased nods from the yeoman landholders at that. Several heads of household rose and pledged to take in their wounded or horses; others swore to provide gear or goods to those who?d joined him, even costly items like mail shirts. Which was welcome; they hadn?t brought along all the gear of their fallen, there being no space in the sleds to spare. Bjarni caught Rudi?s eye and nodded.
Rudi stood. Ogma of the honey-tongue, be with me now, he thought, then pitched his voice to carry: ?Folk of Eriksgarth, of the Bjornings, of Norrheim, by now you know somewhat of my story. Hear also what my mother said when she held me over the altar in our nemed, our sacred wood, when she gave me my name and made prophecy: ?Sad winter?s child, in this leafless shaw Yet be Son, and Lover, and Horned Lord!
Guardian of my sacred Wood, and Law His people?s strength-and the Lady?s sword! ?This was the fate laid upon me at my birth; Orlog, you say. Here I swear to take up this destiny, and the Sword. I will defeat the black evil of Corwin, and free those it holds in thrall. I will be Ard Ri in Montival; I will be High King. To my own people I will be land father and give good lordship and fair judgment; in my lands each shall hold his own, and each folk shall follow their own customs and Gods and laws, subject only to the common good. To foreign friends-such as yourselves-I will offer the open hand of welcome and alliance, and see that none trouble any who come to trade or visit. Only to the reiver, the evildoer, the oppressor and the invader shall I show the edge of the Sword, but to them it shall be a sword of fire indeed. So I swear, by the Gods of my people, by the Maker of Stars, by the Lady of the Ravens who has held me under Her wings; and also I swear by great Odin, Victory-Father, who has given me of his strength and wisdom here and elsewhere.?
He took the oath-ring in his hand.?So I swear; so shall I do. And if there comes a day when the King must die for the people, then I will go consenting, with open eyes. Drink hail!? ?Wassail!?
Mathilda smiled at him over her horn, but tears trembled in her eyes. She rose: ?I have sworn service as vassal with Artos the High King already. Here I swear that I will take him for my man, for my war captain, for my King, and keep faith with him in all ways so long as life is in me. Drink hail!? ?Wassail!?
Edain stood in his turn.?I started on this quest a boy, following a friend. Along the way I?ve found a King to follow, who?s still the best friend and comrade a man could have. I swear I?ll stand by him as best I can, all my life long. Drink hail!? ?Wassail!?
The others followed; the twins swore their pledge in liquid Sindarin, causing a little confusion. Odard went last, and stood silent for an instant. When he spoke his voice was low at first: ?When I started this journey, I came because of the Princess more than Rudi. There was bad blood between my family and his… A man?s mind is never all of one thing, nor does he know himself or all his reasons beneath the masks he wears. They deceive even the wearer. But by following Rudi, I?ve found enemies worth fighting, and a man… a King… worth following. I will follow him, and raise my sons to follow his. Drink hail!? ?Wassail!?
TheSwordoftheLady
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
?You attack this time,? Ritva Havel said to Asgerd Karlsdottir. ?On the count-one-?
The Ranger had her parka off, and wore only the down-quilted vest, wool undershirt, wool tunic, padded gambeson and mail-lined leather jerkin. That was miserably chilly but exercise would help, though there was a hint of moisture in the air today that made the cold sink right into bone and joint. For some reason the same quilted padding that turned a mail shirt hellish in summertime did nothing for you in weather like this. At least the cold muted the harsh rank smell of old sweat and rancid oil inseparable from armor, leaving the clean scent of spruce and pine the strongest odor around them. ?Two…?
The edge of her shield snapped down the visor of the sallet she was wearing, and the steely gray light of the winter?s day shrank to a line of tarnished brightness across her eyes through the vision slit. Her shield came up under her chin, and her feet felt for the balance-the mealy snow moved beneath her boots, as bad as sand for leeching away speed. Sword up, point up… ?Three!? ?Ho La, Odhinn!? Asgerd hawk-screamed.
She moved like a swift slender metal statue in her mail byrnie and nose-guarded conical helm and cut with the cry. The hilt-forward position of her sword turned into a sweeping circle that came down towards Ritva?s head as her feet moved her forward like a stooping hawk. The Norrheimer-style round shield was held by a single grip beneath the boss, and she kept it always between them, ready to strike with it as the sword hammered down. Ritva brought her own shield up in a flash of motion-and around, so that it didn?t block her vision, and arrived slanted at an angle.
Crack.
The hard birchwood lath of the practice blade bounced away from the curved surface of the shield. Ritva grunted as the blow rocked the convex circle of plywood and bullhide and painted sheet metal against her shoulder and shocked through her arm where it ran between the elbow-loop and the rim-grip.
Strong! she thought approvingly.
The same impact helped her swing aside and out of the path of the Bjorning?s rush. Her left foot moved forward and her right followed it in a skipping crabwise step, blurring-fast. The blunt point of her wooden sword drove home and Asgerd gave a cry that was half frustration and half stifled pain as it took her on the back of the knee below the edge of the byrnie.