Free The Broken Sword by Poul Anderson Page B

in from the foreroom.
    He spoke: “Let the women and children come outside and they shall live. But the hall is ringed with my men and I am going to burn it.”
    A cast spear clanged off one of the iron-bound shields. The smoke-reek grew stronger than it should be.
    “Have you not done enough?” shrieked Freda. “Burn this house if you will, but I would rather stay within than take my life of you.”
    “Forward!” shouted Valgard, and ere anyone could stop them he and a dozen of his vikings had come inside.
    “Not while I live!” cried Erlend. He drew his sword and charged at Valgard. The axe Brodierslayer flashed to and fro, knocked the blade aside with a clatter and buried its beak under his ribs. He pitched to the floor. Valgard leaped over him and grabbed Freda’s wrist. Another of his men took Asgerd. The rest formed a shield-burg about these two. Helmeted and mailed, they had no trouble winning back to the door, killing three who fought them.
    When the raiders had gone forth, the men inside rallied, armed themselves more fully, and tried to make a rush. But they were hewn down or forced back by warriors who stood at every way out. JElfrida cried and ran to the door, and her the vikings let through.
    Valgard had just finished binding the wrists of Asgerd and Freda, with lead ropes to drag them along if they would not walk. The roof of the hall already burned brightly. Ailfrida dung to Valgard’s arm and wailed at him through the flame-roar.
    “Worse than wolf, what new ill are you wreaking on the last of your kin? What turns you on your own sisters, who have done you naught but good, and how can you stamp on your mother’s heart? Let them go, let them go!”
    Valgard watched her with pale cold eyes in an unmoving face. “You are not my mother,” he said at last, and struck her. She fell senseless in the snow and he turned away, signalling his men to force the two captive girls down to the bay where his ships were beached.
    “Where.are we bound?” sobbed Freda, while Asgerd spat on him. 
    He smiled, a mere quirk of lips and said: “I will not harm you. Indeed, I do you a service, for you are to be given to a king.” He sighed. “I envy him. Meanwhile, knowing my men, I had best watch over you.”
    Such of the women as did not wish to be burned alive shepherded the children outside. The raiders used them but afterwards set them free. Other women stayed inside with their men. Flames lit the garth for a great ways around, and erelong the other buildings had caught fire, though not before they had been plundered.
    Valgard left as soon as he was sure those within were dead, for he knew that neighbours would see the burning and arrive in strength. The vikings launched their ships and stood out to sea, rowing against a wind which blew icy waves inboard.
    “Never will we reach Finnmark like this,” grumbled Valgard’s steersman.
    “I think otherwise,” he answered. At dawn, as the witch had told him, he untied the knots that closed her leather bag. At once the wind swung around until it came from astern, blowing straight northeast in a loud steady drone. Sails set, the ships fairly leaped ahead.
    When folk reached Orm’s garth, they found only charred timbers and smouldering ash-heaps. A few women and children were about, sobbing in the dreary morning light. Ailfrida alone did not weep or speak. She sat on the howe with hair and dress blowing wild, sat unstirring, empty-eyed, staring out to sea.
    Now for three days and nights Valgard’s ships ran before an unchanging gale. One foundered in the heavy waves, though most of her crew were saved; on the rest, bailing never could end; and uneasy mutters went from beard to beard. But Valgard overawed thoughts of mutiny.
    He stood nearly the whole time in the prow of his craft, wrapped in a long leather cloak, salt and rime crusted on him, and brooded over the waters. Once a man dared gainsay him, and he slew the fellow on the spot and cast the body overboard.