Free Oathsworn 2 - The Wolf Sea by Qaz Page B

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    capsicums and the like and small golden-yellow fruits which made your jaws ache, and Brother John said were called limon.
    The treasures went on and on: barrels filled with all different kinds of olives, when we had never seen more than one sort in our lives and only since we had come to Miklagard. And pepper both light and dark, as well as leather from the Nile lands.
    There were weapons, too — a consignment of spearheads and knives and Greek blades needing hilt-finishing — and three beautiful swords, all clearly made in our homeland so that it made you almost weep to see them.
    They were worth more than everything else put together and those blades I took, for they were well smithed and had their story written there, like water, just below the surface of the metal. Vaegir, they were called — wave swords — and that marked them as superior, even though they had little or no decoration on hilt or handle, just good leather grips.
    One I took for myself, the other two I gave to Finn and Kvasir, marking them as chosen men, and that pair could not have been happier if I had been handing them out from a gifthrone in a huge hall, like a proper jarl. My first raid had brought them all riches and I felt the power of the jarl torc then.
    So we spent the whole day moving all this to the Vokhok, pausing only to give Kol a proper burial, with some of the spearheads and his weapons, in a decent boat-grave marked with white stones. Brother John said his chants and I, as godi, spoke some words of praise to Odin for Kol.
    Later, Brother John showed Finn how to cook with the golden Limon-fruits, so that we had minted lamb meat soaked in that juice, chopped and rolled with lentils and barley. We put it in a communal bowl — the same one the Arabs had been using — and ate it with some fresh-made flatbread. It was, by far, better than the ship's provisions — coarse bran bread, pickled mutton, salt fish, and some dried fruit — but I still ate last, after I made sure men were on watch.
    We chewed, grinning greasily at each other, fat-cheeked as winter squirrels and our bellies were full of that limon- flavoured lamb when we lolled by a fire near the slow-rolling Volchok, watching the Arabs' ship burn to the waterline; we could not crew it and did not want any we had missed coming after us, full of revenge.
    The men were admiring the helms and mail and swords they had, swapping mail shirts that did not fit for ones that did, when Sighvat came up, clutching a leather bag. Men stared; he had his two ravens free of their cages, one perched on either shoulder and there were wary and uncertain looks at that, the mark of a seidr man.
    Ì found this in the gear when we were sorting it out, Trader,' he said, ignoring their glances and handed out a bound parchment. 'It is in that Latin you read. What does it say?'
    I did not know and said so, but Brother John did, for it was Greek and he knew that language well. As he read it, his brow furrowed.
    `This is from Choniates, to the Archbishop Honorius of Larnaca, saying that the men who have this message are acting on behalf of one Starkad, who is acting for Choniates and should be given all help . . .
    and so on and so on. It seems they were to collect something and carry it back to Choniates.'
    `Does it say what it is?' I asked as everyone gathered round to listen.
    Brother John examined the parchment further, then shook his head and shrugged. 'No, not a word — but it must be expensive if Choniates handed him that sword for it.'
    Aye, he had the right of it — Starkad had stolen the runesword for the Greek and then been given it back as payment for a service. If he was paid that richly, it was no small service.
    `What is so special about this sword?' Radoslav demanded, scrubbing his head in fury.

    There were shrugs. Eyes flicked to me and I smiled at the big Slav — then told him the truth of it, watching him closely as I did so. His eyes went large and round and he licked lips suddenly