Black Monastery by William Stacey Read Free Book Online

used to trade with these people. Have him question this one.”
    Bjorn nodded, then walked over and gripped the prisoner’s shoulder. As Bjorn led him away, the man went docilely enough, but Asgrim suspected he would bolt if given the chance.
    “And find out about the monks’ silver!” Asgrim yelled at his brother’s back.
    Asgrim shook his head and swore beneath his breath. He needed information. The villagers might know what had happened here. They almost certainly knew the Danes had arrived. No doubt they had already run from their homes to hide within the forest. Even now, they were probably spying on them.
    The Saracen merchant had said there was a long bar of land to the south of the island that reached most of the way to the mainland. At low tide, men would be able to ride across it. Eventually, the Franks would defend their kingdom; they had to. If Asgrim and his men were caught by horsemen while away from their longship, it could be a disaster—especially if the Franks brought bows. They could stay at a distance and pick them off. Asgrim and his men couldn’t stay here, but he was not willing to let go of his chance at plunder.
    But the Franks weren’t the real problem. As great a worry as they were, at least he knew how to fight men. But there was a supernatural menace here—one that he could do nothing about. Something had driven these men to kill one another, something nebulous and invisible, yet deadly just the same. The longer he and his men stayed near this accursed place…
    He bent down, picked up a round stone, and hurled it at the stone wall of the monastery. “Gods damn this shithole!”
    He wasn’t going anywhere without the silver. Fate had driven him here, where he could find the means to atone for the blood on his hands. He refused to believe the Nornar would lead him to the island just to deny him a chance at redeeming himself.
    Freya.
    “Gods damn their one god!”
    He’d lost so much already because of his rage. Without plunder to pay his wergild, he could never go home again. And without home, the men would begin to turn against him. Soon, he would face a mutiny as his warriors demanded to return to their families, to the fall harvest. What then? What destiny waited for a man like him?
    “Gods damn the crones,” he muttered, closing his eyes and seeing Freya’s face again.
    * * *
    The monastery sprawled over numerous buildings. Some, such as the kitchens and latrines, were kept separate from the rest of the monastery. Other buildings had been added on over the years. The bakehouse, brewery, piggery, stables, smithy, and other workshops looked to be newer buildings than the others. Searching all these buildings took time. Unfortunately, even after hours of searching, they found nothing, and Asgrim’s desperation grew. He even ordered his men to dig up the newest graves in the monastery’s small cemetery. When the men hesitated, he cursed them, grabbed a shovel himself, and began to dig, shaming them. After that, the men rushed to help. So far, though, they had found nothing but rotting bones. Asgrim was standing in a grave, dirt to his knees and leaning on a shovel, when Bjorn approached.
    “Anything?” Asgrim asked.
    Bjorn shook his head and glanced about warily at the disturbed graves. “They killed their own horses, still in their stalls. Stabbed them with sharpened staves.” His brother paused and spit on the ground.
    “Why?” asked Asgrim.
    Bjorn sighed and shook his head. “Brother, these men were crazy. For all I know, they killed the animals for sport.”
    Chills ran down Asgrim’s back.
    His brother glanced about, making sure none of the others were within earshot. “Brother, these holy men were crazed. We should leave before—”
    “We leave when we have their silver,” Asgrim said.
    “There may be no silver,” Bjorn said forcefully. “Not here, but there’s still time to raid somewhere else. We can still raise the wergild.”
    “There’s silver here,”