“Well met, Jarl St?rr.” Agnar bowed his head.
“I am told you have goods for sale, goods of interest to me,” Jarl St?rr said.
“Aye, my lord,” Agnar said. Elvar was not used to hearing her chief talk so deferentially to another person. She didn’t like it.
“I bring to you Berak Bjornasson,” Agnar continued. “He is Tainted, Berserkir, wanted by three jarls for murder, blood-debt and weregild. I bring him first to you out of respect, and because I know your tastes.”
Agnar signalled to Sighvat, who grunted an order and pulled on the chain in his fist. Berak took a stumbling step forwards, slowly raised his head and glowered at Jarl St?rr.
A series of growls rippled through the Berserkirs ranged around Jarl St?rr, a sudden tension in the air, like a gathering storm.
“You bring him first to me because you think I will pay the highest price,” Jarl St?rr snorted, waving a hand. He looked at Berak, silent a while. “And if what you say is true, then you are right. I will pay you well. I value Berserkirs.”
“It is true,” Agnar said. “My Hundur-thrall tracked him by scent, and my Seier-witch has confirmed his lineage.”
“Hmm,” Jarl St?rr murmured, fingers drumming on the arm of his chair. “If only this were a world where I could trust in the truth of any man’s word.” He looked to the woman standing beside him. “Silrie,” he said with a gesture of his hand.
The blonde woman stepped from the dais and walked towards them. She wore a tunic and breeches, winnigas wrapping her lower legs, leather cords criss-crossing them, a seax at her belt. It was shorter than most, not made for the shield wall. She drew it as she reached Berak, the steel blade glinting, and held it loosely. Berak towered over her, glared down at her.
“I need some of your blood,” Silrie said. “Give it willingly, I advise.”
Elvar saw Berak tense, the muscles in his back and legs abruptly taut. There was a long, drawn-out moment, and then he blew out a breath and raised an arm, pulling up the sleeve of his tunic to reveal a thick-muscled, hairy forearm.
Agnar had warned him what would happen to his child and wife if he caused any trouble.
“Good,” Silrie murmured as she drew her seax across Berak’s arm, a dark line of blood welling. She turned on her heel and strode back to Jarl St?rr and walked past him to the statue of the head on the dais. She stood before it, the head taller than her.
“Wake up, Hrung,” she said.
The statue was perfectly still.
Silrie kicked the statue’s chin and a shuddering ripple passed through the head, like touching the still waters of a pond. Its mouth twitched.
“Hrung, vaknaeu,” Silrie barked and the eyes snapped open. They were opaque and mist-like, pale as pearls and swirling sluggishly. Slowly they drew into focus and fixed on Silrie. The statue’s lips moved.
“I was dreaming,” the giant head said, his voice reverberating in the hall, Elvar feeling it pass through her body, like distant thunder.
“You can tell me of that later, ancient Hrung. But now, your jarl needs your service.”
The cloudy eyes moved, looking at Jarl St?rr in his chair, then back to Silrie.
“What would you have of me?” Hrung said.
“Some blood to taste. Tell us what you can,” Silrie said, raising her blood-smeared seax.
Hrung sniffed, seeming to Elvar like he was drawing all of the air within the hall into his nostrils, then opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, wide and fat and pale. Silrie placed the seax on to it and gently wiped the blood off, taking care not to cut the giant.
Hrung closed his mouth and his eyes then was silent a moment as Elvar saw his tongue moving, pressing into the sides of his cheeks. Then he opened his eyes and spat, a glob of red-smeared phlegm splattering on to the dais.
“Berser’s blood, or I am a dwarf,” the head said.
Jarl St?rr smiled.
“Take him,” he said, and Silrie walked back towards Berak, two of the hulking thralls at Jarl St?rr’s feet accompanying her, as well as a trio of warriors. Berak stood waiting.
Silrie held her hand out to Sighvat for the chain, but he just stared back at her.
“We have not discussed his price,” Agnar said.
“Twice what you would have received anywhere else,” Jarl St?rr said. “I appreciate your business acumen, and, this way, if you find any more Tainted…”
Agnar dipped his head. “Your generosity is much appreciated, my lord, and my loyalty to you is guaranteed,” he said, then nodded to Sighvat.