Page 9 of Hungry Like a Wolf
“And as my friend, the priest Olaf, has committed Christian bodies to God, I now commit Egil to the gods who await him in Valhalla.” He raised his head, flashing his thick chin and neck tattoo. “Feast well, my friend. Feast well.” He held the torch aloft.
Suddenly, the woman with flame-red hair sprang forward and snatched the torch from him. A frown slashed over her brow and she stepped up to the pyre, holding it at the ready.
The king scowled and marched up to her. An argument ensued. Carmel was too far away to hear what they were saying. But what she couldn’t understand was why a king was letting a woman create such a scene—more than a scene. After a few minutes, she appeared to win the argument and Haakon stepped back.
She held the torch over the raft, the wind whipping her hair around her face. “Hail to the gods. Hail to the dead! Hail to the kinsmen, the family, the shields, and the swords. Long may Egil’s memory live in the minds of the living and his bravery and wisdom by rejoiced as he sits in the mighty halls of Valhalla.”
She tossed the torch onto the body.
Instantly, the mistletoe leaped into flame. Three others who could only be Norsemen released the ropes and gave the raft a shove out into the tide.
The current caught it immediately, bobbing it this way and that as flames licked upward, eager to devour their feast.
“Look!” The queen stepped forward, pointing east of the pyre raft. “Someone is coming our way.”
Carmel peered forward—it seemed everybody’s attention went to the horizon. Orm beat the drum faster, the boom deafening, as though he were excited by the sudden appearance of a boat. It was a Viking longboat; she’d seen enough of them to know that. The curled bow was unmistakable and this one appeared to have been carved like a serpent with a long, forked tongue. A tall, bearded man stood at the prow, arm curled around the serpent’s neck as he shielded his eyes, peering forward.
Suddenly, Orm threw his drumsticks to the sand. He then leaped up and ran toward the pier. The crowd parted to lethim through—if they hadn’t, he’d have run straight through them. “Thor’s thunder rumbles around a crown!” he shouted. “It rumbles and it strikes with lightning…and here is the lightning.”
Carmel had no idea what was going on. As Egil’s body drifted out to sea ablaze and with all of his worldly possessions, another boat was making dock against the pier. What she did know was that whoever it was, it had shocked Orm, the king, and the woman with the red hair.
Who could it be?
The new arrival leaped off, his white fur cloak flying out behind him. His hair was long but plaited neatly against his head and his beard was thick and shiny and dotted with beads. His boots landed with awhump.
Orm was practically dancing around him, his arms waving in the air as he let out whoops of anticipation.
Carmel stood and glanced at the dunes. Should she make a run for it now that everyone was distracted by this new and unexpected visitor? From here, she wouldn’t have the fort walls or the watchman to contend with.
Just the wolves.
And the bloody battlefield complete with heads on stakes.
A shiver went through her that had nothing to do with the cold.
“Who could it be?” a woman, petite and with dark-brown hair, said at Carmel’s side.
“You tell me.Youlive here,” Carmel snapped.
“I have never seen him before. This is only the second Norse ship to come to our shores. Usually, they go straight past us, to richer lands. We have little to raid here.”
“I have noticed.”
The woman smiled. “I am Anna. My father is Hywel, the carpenter. You might have seen him helping build the funeral pyre.”
“No, I didn’t see. I was praying.”
“As would I in your position.”
Carmel peered closer at the young woman. Perhaps she would be sympathetic, help her escape and provide her with the tools she’d need to survive. “Prayers are all I can rely on.” She paused. “I have a monster controlling me, the devil himself.”
She laughed. “Orm is not the devil.”
“Are we looking at the same man?” Carmel asked incredulously as she flung her hand in his direction.
“Oh, he’s excitable and he thinks differently to other people, but he has a good heart.”
“You call this having a good heart?” She raised her gown to show the chain between her ankles.
