Page 69 of Summer of the Viking

Valdar inwardly smiled. Girmir always did have a big head. Now he had a plan—he simply had to fight Girmir.

‘The gods favour me, Girmir. They always have. You know that. My swim in the sea proved it.’

‘Your survival angers them. I will have no dealings with a person who has turned his back on our gods!’

‘Why do you always seek to find a way to get out of every challenge? You can’t slit my throat like you did with Horik. Nor can you poison my drink like you did with Sirgurd. Turned his bowels to water, wasn’t that your boast?’

As he’d hoped, the remainder of the felag stopped. No one came to Girmir’s assistance. Several murmured amongst themselves. They knew the rumours as well as he did. Valdar kept his gaze trained on Girmir.

‘That was never proved!’ Girmir shouted. ‘The gods punished Sirgurd for speaking against me. And everyone killed Horik. Everyone put his sword into his belly. And those who didn’t, they fought me and lost.’

‘Didn’t you tell them how you defeated Sirgurd, Girmir? The tricks you played?’

‘I didn’t put anything into his drink. Is it my fault that dust blinded him?’ Utter silence greeted his coarse laugh.

Girmir glanced to his left and right. The men had started to back away.

‘Valdar has the right to challenge you,’ one of the men said. ‘He is one of the felag.’

‘You have brought us nothing but ill luck, Girmir Storm Crow. The gods favour Valdar. They have kept him alive.’

‘Fools, it is because he didn’t die that our mast broke.’

‘You blamed that on my cousin,’ someone grumbled. ‘You slit his throat. And all that happened was that we were washed up back here without food. And not enough men to row. And our navigator is lost. All because of your bad temper.’

‘Your answer, Girmir,’ Valdar said. ‘Will you fight? Or will you be cast out of the felag as a coward?’

Girmir dumped Alwynn on the ground. ‘No man calls me a coward and lives.’

Silently Valdar prayed that she’d remain sensible and stay still. She curled up in a ball, but before she did, she gave him a look that cut him to the core.

Valdar clung on to his self-control. The only way he could win was not to lose his temper. His father had hammered that lesson into him. Defend and wait for the opportunity to strike.

‘Shall we fight? For the right to lead the felag? You against me with no other man involved.’

‘Only members of the felag can fight for that.’

‘I’m still a member—the gods chose to save me and the outcome of our fight lies in their hands.’ Valdar advanced, swinging his sword in his right hand, savouring the feel of it. It was good to be fighting again, instead of running. He would avenge deaths, but more important he would keep Alwynn safe. After he was finished no one would attack this section of the Northumbrian coast for generations. ‘They realised I had unfinished business. Now, will you fight or be branded as a coward for ever?’

Girmir glanced to his right and left. The men were still backed away from him. It was then Valdar knew he had a chance.

‘I will fight.’ Girmir drew his sword and tossed it between his hands. ‘It will be my great pleasure to carve your liver out of your hide and then I will have your woman, Nerison. Slowly and without mercy.’

Valdar raised his chin and stared at him. ‘The gods will decide what happens. They always do.’

The men made a circle about them. He could hear the betting that always accompanied a challenge like this.

‘Shall we agree the rules?’ Valdar asked. ‘It is customary—’

‘Your challenge. My rules.’ Giving a great shout, Girmir rushed forward, circling an axe in one hand and a sword in the other.

Valdar was ready for the charge. He’d seen the manoeuvre in his youth. At the last breath, he pivoted and Girmir plunged into the circle of warriors.

Girmir wiped the sweat from his face. ‘I bet you think you are amusing.’

‘I’m not the one who just ran past my opponent without landing a blow.’

Someone tossed Valdar a shield. ‘You will need this. I’m betting on you to bring us home.’

He crouched ready for the next onslaught. Girmir charged forward.

Valdar’s sword met Girmir’s with a great clang as he raised his shield to deflect the axe. Rather than backing off, Girmir pressed forward.

The ferocity of the attack would have knocked a less fit man off his feet, but Valdar instantly adjusted his stance and regained his balance.

Girmir’s reputation as a successful fighter might be well earned, but the man had no stamina. He resorted to cheap tricks before the fight had properly begun.

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