“That’s quite a reputation,” Lucian murmured.
“We’ll come with you, south to England,” Ragnor said.
“I am safe among you.” Edgar said the words strongly, and yet, Ragnor thought, they were a question.
“Oh, aye,” Lucian said gravely.
Wulfgar, who had been silent, laughed softly. “We drink the blood of the conquered and the holy on holidays sacred only to our kind.”
The man paled, but didn’t falter. “Would there be a church on this island?”
“Aye, that there is,” Wulfgar told him.
The man started out. Then, in front of Ragnor, he paused. He reached out and touched the silver pendant around Ragnor’s neck. He drew his hand back quickly, but studied Ragnor. “You were meant to be a great ruler; a champion of God.”
“If so,” Ragnor said smoothly, “perhaps God changed his mind.”
“Just as evil comes in shadow, so justice can be found in evil,” Edgar said, and went on.
“Saxons!” Wulfgar muttered, “they do enjoy speaking in riddles, in seeking answers where there are none.”
“The answer is the balance,” Ragnor said, and when they stared at him, he shrugged. “We are all three savage in battle; were before, are now. And there is little guilt, because we were all born into a world where it was right to fight and be savage against equally barbaric enemies. So it remains among men. The Normans came to seize the crown, and they will keep killing to gain it?and the Norman lord will proclaim that God is on his side, the side of right. The Saxons will fight, and they will kill, and be killed. We all believe we are right when it is our enemies we kill. All the different tribes and people fought within England in times past, and now they must fight for it. The Normans won’t slay the populace indiscriminately, or there will be none to till the fields, to herd the livestock, to prepare their meals, make their clothes. It is always the same. The greatest destroyer knows that he will have gained nothing if he has not won those to serve him. As the Saxon has said?he understands battle, dominion, and death. But he believes in a death in which the souls of men will go to their God. Perhaps we are damned ourselves, but we do know that there is balance on the earth, and without it, we all perish.”
“Quite a speech,” Lucian told him skeptically. “So we will go out?as champions of the dead.”
“We will go out because I know that Nari and my brother are most certainly to blame. And vengeance is the greatest of my concerns. I have healed, and I am ready to meet them again.”
“So be it, then. We’ll sail south with the Saxon.”
“And pray that our ships don’t sink!” Wulfgar muttered.
They sailed south, around the coast of Cornwall, then rode the distance inland. Along the way, they came upon houses etched with the sign of the cross. Bodies had been burned in great piles in the fields.
At each dwelling and farmstead, they halted, and destroyed the remains of any they found within houses and home, for there were areas where no one remained to see to the dead. They rode mostly by night, and when they stopped, they prowled through the churchyards as well, where Edgar seemed to turn a shade a green as they ripped through the shrouds of the freshly buried, dismembering the bodies, or setting them on great pyres.
Never, however, did Edgar protest.
At last they came to the village known as Twickham, where Edgar’s overlord had once ruled. There, the Saxon earl of the region had ruled from the power of a fortress of wood and earth, built high upon a motte.
As they approached, by moonlight, Edgar begged them to halt. “The gates were kept securely locked by night when I left. Now, they stand open.”
“Wait here,” Lucian told Edgar.
“I’d rather take my chances with you,” Edgar said.
“Better to let him enter in flesh, while we take shadow,” Ragnor said.
“I will be bait?” Edgar asked.
“We’ll be with you,” Ragnor assured him.
And so they left the horses behind, and concealed themselves in shadow, following as Edgar rode slowly.
Torches burned from sconces set into the walls once they breeched the main gate. And within, men in armor lay here and there upon the earth, among slaughtered animals, dung, and refuse. Edgar’s horse shied, and would go no further, and so the man dismounted. He walked along, heading for the manor house, and they followed. At one point, the Saxon warrior let out a gutteral cry of fear as a body moved, a mail-clad arm reaching out for his ankle. Ragnor took form, and reached for the newly fallen man. The arm was cold as ice; stone dead. Edgar turned away as Ragnor disposed of the fresh remains of the once mighty Norman knight, removing the head with a powerful twist.
“Keep moving,” Ragnor murmured, from darkness.
Edgar walked on.
The door to the manor stood open as well.
Within, Hagan sat at the main table before the fire, fur-booted feet upon the rough-hewn table, hands laced behind his head as he eased in a carved oak chair. Before him, a fire burned at the hearth.
Throughout the hall, the dead and dying lay at odd angles while his fellows bent over them here and there, seeking the living among the dead, hot blood which had not yet turned cold. Nari sat at the end of the table, hands folded in her lap, lips pouting as she stared at Hagan. Ragnor saw the cause of her anger; Hagan had taken one of the Norman slave collars and set it around the throat of a young, light-haired woman dressed in a tunic of fine dyed linen. She was leashed and on her knees by his chair, her eyes downcast.
“Be done with it, Hagan,” Nari said angrily. “We are finished here. The others search for scraps! You claimed that you would follow the conquerors, that we could gain position and wealth, as well as a feast of the fallen.”
Hagan appeared to ignore her at first, drawing on the chain that held his captive to him, catching a strand of the young woman’s hair, twirling it in his fingers. Then he looked up at Nari. “I am amused by this one’s courage. I think she should join us.”
“I think she should not.”
“You’re jealous, and how silly of you, dear Nari!”
Nari sighed. “I am weary of you!”
“You’re a coward. You were afraid one of those stalwart fellows so quick to slice the throats of peasants would manage to sever your pretty head. You want to run away and hide. No, that’s not it, is it? You’re such a liar, Nari. And such a cheat. You want to go back to Scotland and dig up my dear brother. Leash your hunger, as I have leashed this slave, and enter the world of sotted fools! Why, you’re afraid of me.”
“You’re an idiot. You forget who I am.”
“Do I? Never. You were not the chieftain‘ s daughter, Nari, but a child adopted from a raid in the East.
You had your village completely fooled?the poor naive idiots never knew that it was you, the adored child taken in by a powerful man, who brought hell on earth down upon them! But you never imagined that you would take a warrior with a greater thirst than your own, and so you have found a companion such as you never imagined! But you do still hunger for my brother, so you will allow me play with my captives.”
Listening, Ragnor nearly lost his concentration and his grip on the shadow world. He had never known ..
. would have never known. Brother Peter had not known that they had harbored the lamia who had started it all.
She had come to him in dreams, as if afraid, repelled by the existence she had chosen. And perhaps he had hoped that what he had seen in dreams had been true. He had never suspected that she had been the initial evil to seize upon them all.
And still .. .
Hagan’s followers, dark and light, Scot, Norse, and Easterner, had gone still. Hagan himself fell silent.
They had seen Edgar, standing at the door.
“Well, well,” Hagan muttered, standing. He smiled slowly. “What have we here? A strayed and beaten Saxon thane, seeking to return to his home! Well, sir Saxon, you should be pleased to see this all?before you perish, of course. There, you see, about the floor, your enemy! Aren’t you pleased to see that those who thrashed you so soundly have fallen as well?”
“I see only that you are a greater destroyer than any on earth,” Edgar said. “And I have come to stop you.” He pulled out his sword.
Nari stood as well, backing away from the table, her eyes narrowed. Once again, she wanted no part of danger.
Hagan started to laugh. He lifted his chin. Two of his undead followers strode forward.
Edgar was no coward; he went to strike one, but the other rose, attempting to fly at him. Ragnor swept forward, hurling his weight against the creature who would seize upon Edgar’s throat, and they hurtled across the room.
As Hagan became aware that Edgar had not come alone, he reached for his own weapon, striding forward in a fury, roaring out a challenge. “This is my domain! I honor no law of the ancients and will destroy anyone? living or dead?who challenges my conquest here!” Edgar, in desperation for his life, fought with no thought of squeamishness?swinging with learned swordplay meant to sever heads as more of the demons rushed forward. But by then, Ragnor and the others had thrown off the cloaks of shadow they wore, and the room was pitched into an instant battlefield.
And while the others dealt with the dark army of Hagan’s making, Ragnor stepped forward to face his brother.
“You! I should have known!” Hagan shouted, and seemed glad of the challenge. “little brother, how many times will I be forced to put you into hell?”
“This time, Hagan, you have no edge of treachery or surprise to serve you, and you are the one who will lie in hell.”
Their swords clashed. Steel locked with steel, and their eyes met as each struggled for the upper hand.
Hagan rushed at Ragnor; he ducked low, butting his brother hard in the midriff, and casting him off with such ferocity that he flew across the room and crashed against the mantel, sending tongs and pokers flying into the blaze, and sparks flying across the room.
Hagan immediately rose, howling as bits of flame seared his flesh. Enraged, he stared from his scorched and burning arm to his brother, and once again came across the room, a cry like thunder on his lips.