Viking Gold Read Free

it. A ragged
howl. Like the rush of wind through a cave.
    He spun round, bracing
himself for the attack. Long white teeth glimmered against black gums. Redknee
spread his arms wide. He’d heard wolves could be scared off if you made
yourself look bigger. But the she-wolf kept coming. She was almost on him now,
growling and pawing the ground, a demon of spit and fangs and blood. A gash the
length of a man’s forearm cleaved her right haunch. Redknee winced. This was
not her first fight of the day either. He edged backwards. She tried to leap at
him, but her legs quivered and it was more of a shuffle. A moment later she
collapsed to the ground.
    The pup crawled from its lair
and nudged its mother’s nose with its head. A triangle of pink tongue darted
over the pup’s ears, but the she-wolf was beaten. Her eyes lolled with
exhaustion and her head slumped onto her paws.
    As the she-wolf took her
last, rasping breath, she looked up at Redknee, with, he imagined, relief in
her eyes. And he knew what he should do. He edged over to the pup, who was now
trying to wake its mother by patting her face with its paw, and gently scooped
it up. Pale amber eyes ringed with black stared warily at Redknee.
    “Hey, little one,” Redknee
said, stroking the pup behind its ears. The pup tried to wriggle free. Redknee
fished a scrap of bread from his belt-pouch and held it out. After a moment’s
pause, the pup gobbled it down greedily.
    “You’re all alone in the
world now. I know what that feels like. But don’t worry, I’ll look after you.
We can be a team.”
    The pup eyed Redknee for a
moment then began licking his face. “Ergh,” Redknee said, holding the pup at
arm’s length. “I’ll have to teach you to stop that if you’re ever going to make
a fierce hunting dog.”
     
    He
tucked the pup into his tunic and trudged through the wet mud until he came to
a wide clearing. A torch flickered a short distance off. He ducked down. The
fiery image danced across the ground. He’d reached the banks of a mountain lake
– one he didn’t recognise. More lights joined the first – their reflections
shimmering on the water.
    He crept through the reeds
until he was within hearing distance. Fifteen or so men lounged by a campfire,
drinking and cutting strips off a deer carcass they’d suspended over the fire
on a stout branch. Redknee’s mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
The men were loud and drunk. Two were arguing over a game of dice. A few took
turns goading a brown bear they had tethered to a tree stump. The poor beast
was so tired it hardly responded to their bullying.
    Redknee crouched in the
shadows and looked for Sinead. A group of horses stood to one side. Redknee
recognised the grey stallion. Beside the horses was a wooden cage. Their
leader, the big warrior with the bad eye, stalked over to the cage, pulled out
a girl and dragged her towards the campfire. Redknee wasn’t sure it was Sinead
until he heard her squawking on in her usual way. Like a seagull arguing with
an ox. Pointless and annoying.
    “Let me go, you big oaf,” she
said.
    “Wish granted,” he said,
pushing her in front of the fire.
    The men looked up from their
meal. A raven-haired youth in a fine chainmail coat addressed the big warrior.
“Ragnar,” he asked, “when do we attack Sven’s village?”
    Ragnar smirked. “First light,
son. If we can get this girl to talk. She knows where it is. I know it. But she
says nothing.”
    The youth jumped up, grabbed
Sinead’s hand and thrust it towards the flames. “Tell us the way to Sven
Kodranson’s village,” he demanded.
    Sinead jerked her head back
and spat in his eye.
    “You little—” The youth
brought his palm across her face, knocking her to the ground.
    At the sound of the slap,
every muscle in Redknee’s body tensed.
    Ragnar sighed. “Calm down,
Mord. You must never let a woman rile you. Besides, the point is to make her
talk, not shut her up forever. Now put her back in the