Free Pit of Vipers (Sons of Kings Book 2) by Millie Thom

feet. ‘I’ve naught to say to a traitorous cur.’
    Olaf eased a little further into the cell. ‘Do you not know me, Ragnar? It’s been some years, but we had some good times together.’
    ‘I know you, Olaf, even without your hair – though I might have wished our last encounter to have been under more favourable circumstances.’ He gestured round the filthy cell, the movement rendering him unbalanced and he staggered a little. ‘Welcome to the hall of the Great Ragnar,’ he said, his tone heavy with self-mockery. ‘They tell me that today will be my last. Well, death I can accept, Olaf; it finds us all eventually. But to be barred from Valhalla!’ He hung his head, a pitiful whimper stemming from his throat, like a dog cowering beneath a cruel master’s lash. ‘Had I been conscious when they found me on that beach I’d have taken a few of them down with me, died a true warrior. But now Valhalla’s doors are closed to me forever.’
    ‘I know,’ Olaf murmured, his fingers raking through imagined hair on his smooth scalp. No words of consolation would be enough. ‘But raiding again, Ragnar? If you’d stayed in Aros you’d not be in this predicament.’
    Ragnar gave a thin smile. ‘Couldn’t let my sons get all the praise. I was jealous, simple as that; wanted to be a warrior again – just one last time.’ His attention suddenly focused on Eadwulf. ‘Tell me, Olaf, how do you come to be with this Mercian dog? Watch him carefully, my friend, he’ll betray any trust you put in him.’
    Olaf shook his head. ‘You’re wrong about that, Ragnar. It was Ulf who brought me to you now. He was no traitor to anyone – just a man desperate to return to his homeland, as you or I would have been in his position. Bjorn understood that, the reason why he arranged for Ulf to sail with me.’
    ‘You lie!’ Ragnar strained against his fetters to hurl himself forward. ‘Bjorn would not have done that . . .’
    ‘I swear by Odin I speak the truth. Bjorn owed Ulf his life and felt the need to repay the debt.’ Olaf beckoned Eadwulf to stand next to him. ‘And Ulf worked hard for me for over a year before we parted. I’d trust him with my life, as did your own son. And you’ve never had cause to question Bjorn’s judgement before.’
    Ragnar sank to the floor, the effort of standing suddenly too great, and rattled the heavy manacles in frenzied frustration. ‘Curse these shackles. If not for these I’d have struck the guards with my bare hands; death beneath their swords may have won Odin’s approval.’ He hung his head, struggling to control his ragged breathing. ‘Why tell me this now, Olaf?’
    ‘Tomorrow you’ll die, Ragnar; I see no way of preventing it. Aelle will use your execution as a means of convincing the people of his superiority over his rival for the kingship. He knows that eventually either he or Osberht will be ousted. A kingdom can only be ruled by one king.’ Olaf tore his gaze from the anguished jarl, momentarily lost for words.
    Eadwulf felt an unexpected lump in his throat. He’d never anticipated feeling sympathy for Ragnar, but had always held him in respectful awe, seeing a powerful man and wise leader. Never would he have wished the jarl’s days to end like this.
    ‘But to answer your question, Ragnar,’ Olaf continued, ‘telling you about Ulf just seemed the right thing to do. He came to York intent on seeing you, simply to say goodbye. It was mere coincidence he found me here trading. My silks provided the means of gaining admittance to the palace.’
    Ragnar’s sunken eyes focused on Eadwulf. ‘You were one of the strangest thralls I ever came across. My wife and middle sons called you idle and insolent, yet Bjorn insisted you were honourable and trustworthy. I was undecided either way. In truth, I took little notice of the bickering between my sons.’
    Wrist chains rattled as Ragnar’s meaty hands clutched the sides of his head as though it raged with an agony too