The Viking’s Sacrifice Read Free Page B

you. For now. But there’s ways and ways. Little accidents that can happen. And not only to you. I’ll just have to bide my time.”
    Einar tried to get up but failed even to get his arms to move. Bausi was going to kill him, that was sure. Not now maybe, not in front of everyone, and Einar thanked Odin for Wilda and the knife that had stopped the blow just long enough for Agnar to come. Even Bausi wouldn’t do murder in front of him, in front of their father’s truest feal-sworn.
    Bausi’s grin stretched as he watched Einar struggle and finally give up. It was beyond him. He couldn’t breathe for the rock in his chest, couldn’t move for the grinding pain, or the fear of what would happen, how bad it would be if the rot got into it and he festered to death. Fear of what Bausi was about to say.
    “That’s right, you lie there and listen to me. Listen well, little brother, for your life and others depend upon it. I can’t kill you now, not here. No, I can’t do that. Once we’re home, even that might prove difficult. Agnar’s no fool. Two brothers dying, so near? In a raid, yes, and what I planned for. Anything else looks suspicious. Especially coming on top of our father’s death.”
    Einar finally managed some croaked words. “Father’s not—”
    “Isn’t he?” Bausi’s low chuckle made Einar’s back itch. “He’s been failing for months, worse every day. Such a shame. He should be more careful what he drinks. If he’s not dead, he soon will be, so you can’t throw yourself under his protection. I’ve already taken pains to tell everyone how you ran instead of saving Arni from the Saxon spear, like the disgusting coward you are. How you raved and ranted like a madman, undone by your fear. Strange, how quickly they believed it. It’ll do you no good to tell now, you see. Any words of yours would be the words of a madman. Worse, it will do you and yours great harm. Gudrun and Sigdir will be under my protection. And I may choose not to protect them.”
    Einar stared at Bausi in horror. Gudrun, his little sister, only two. Sigdir, his younger brother, who idolised Arni almost as much as Einar had. Under the protection of Bausi, who might take it away at any moment. Who had shown that he could murder his own kin without remorse.
    How easy would it be to arrange an accident for a two-year-old? Too easy. A stumble—or push—into the smaller, stronger falls by their father’s feasting hall. A rope failing when they were at the summer pasture high up the mountains where all the young children were tied to the house for fear of the suicide drop. A host of things. A boy Sigdir’s age, always climbing the mountain looking for gull’s eggs, sparring with practice swords and spears—accidents were common, it would be easy to make one fatal.
    Bausi watched him as these thoughts ran through Einar’s head in panic. The twist of a grin was half-hidden behind Bausi’s beard, but it was there. He was enjoying himself as he always did, at someone else’s expense. Loki’s child. His hand dipped into his tunic and brought out a leather pouch which held a slice of wood. Runes had been cut into it with savage slashes, and blood soaked it, stained the grain and runes red.
    “Do you know what this is, little brother? Do you see what the runes say? Ah, no, there are few who ken these runes. A curse on you and yours if you speak of it, this says, sealed in your blood. If you should speak of it, if anyone should find out, whether through you or not, if you should try to run, you’ll die along with young Sigdir and sweet little Gudrun.”
    Einar’s soul shrivelled in him, seemed to drain his courage away through his blood to soak the poultices. Bausi’s mother had been seidr, a seer, among other, darker rumours. The runes were cut with a jagged edge, a threat of death and destruction to any who crossed the blood-wrought curse. If he crossed it, if he spoke of Arni’s death, Bausi need do nothing and Gudrun and