Viking Boy by Tony Bradman Read Free Book Online Page A

other?” he asked.
    “I played a prank on Hogni one evening when I was bored, and he didn’t like it,” sighed Rurik. “Harsh words were spoken, threats were made.”
    Gunnar frowned, hardly able to believe that was all there was to it. “And what if I still say no to being a slave?” he said, looking Rurik in the eye. “What if I refuse to accept it’s my fate, and try to escape again the first chance I get?”
    “So you’re stubborn too. Well then, I’d better show you.”
    Rurik picked up his sword belt and put it on again, then ducked out through the hut’s door, beckoning Gunnar to follow. The sky was darkening over the town, the air growing colder. Rurik’s stride was long and his left hand rested easily on his sword hilt, and most people quickly got out of his way.
    “This will do,” said Rurik at last. “We can see them from here.”
    They had arrived on the quayside. The tide had ebbed and many of the ships were tilted onto their sides, the setting sun casting deep shadows. Gulls swooped and squawked, and a mud-and-sea smell filled Gunnar’s nostrils. But there was another odour too, something foul and disturbing.
    “See what?” he asked, looking round at Rurik. The big man said nothing. He nodded at a couple of posts stuck in the mud twenty paces from the quayside, a pair of roughly trimmed logs the height of a man.
    Now Gunnar understood where the stench was coming from. A dead body was tied to each post, the flesh puffy and green, white bones poking through sodden rags that had once been clothes.
    “That’s what happens to slaves who try to escape,” said Rurik. “They soon get caught – the locals and most of the ship crews know it doesn’t pay to make an enemy of Orm. Once they’re returned, he has them tied to the posts at low tide and lets the sea kill them. It’s not a good death, or a quick one.”
    Gunnar stared at the posts, then lifted his gaze to the open sea. The Land of Ice and Fire was somewhere across those waves…

N INE
F RIENDS AND E NEMIES

    T HERE WAS STILL the matter of Gunnar’s thrall ring to be settled. Orm heard about what had happened and sent another of his men to Rurik’s hut with a message. Gunnar was to have a ring fitted by Hogni, and that was the end of it.
    “Come on, boy,” said Rurik. “You’ll have to swallow your pride.”
    Night had fallen by the time they entered the courtyard again, the smithy’s forge casting the only light. The guards crowded round the front of the smithy, laughing and nudging one another, clearly hoping for more entertainment. Rurik pushed through, pulling Gunnar along behind him. Hogni looked up from his anvil, and Gunnar saw that his face was bruised and swollen.
    “You’ve got some gall coming in here, Rurik,” he growled, glaring at them. “Unless you’ve brought the boy back so I can kill him after all.”
    “No, Hogni, that’s not what’s going to happen,” Rurik answered. “We’re here because Orm says the boy must have a thrall ring like the other slaves. And as he belongs to me now, just make sure you don’t do him any harm.”
    “What are you talking about?” muttered Hogni, looking confused.
    “I bought the boy from Orm,” said Rurik with a grin. “Cost me a silver arm ring. But it was worth it just to know he’ll be protecting me from you.”
    The guards howled with laughter. Suddenly two more men barged into the smithy past Thorkel and the rest and went over to stand by Hogni. One was a young man with a cruel mouth, the other a balding warrior who was missing most of his right ear. Both wore chainmail byrnies, the young man’s particularly fine, although Gunnar noticed that his stomach bulged over his sword belt.
    “Well now, this
is
an honour,” said Rurik. “A visit from Prince Starkad the Stupid and ugly old Ari One-Ear. What can we do for you?”
    The one-eared warrior grabbed his sword hilt, but Starkad put a hand on his arm. “Let’s not have any trouble, Ari,” he said,