God of Vengeance Read Online Free

spear can only help.’
    ‘That old crow’s omens are always bad,’ Harald said. ‘If I listened to every cast of his runes I would never leave my hall.’ The jarl turned to his men now, spread as they were across the jetty, the surrounding rocks and some already at their places aboard
Reinen
, Harald’s second ship
Sea-Eagle
, and the short karvi which was named
Little-Elk
. All of them hefted shields, spears and axes, some wore iron helmets but most had leather skull caps or even fur hats for the protection they provided, though these men would be sweating soon enough.
    ‘Men of Skudeneshavn!’ Men could no more ignore Harald’s voice than they could ignore a long-axe in a killer’s hands, and it boomed out across the still water of the harbour and surged across the rocks like surf. ‘We have been called out to fight for King Gorm, to whom we have pledged fealty and whose high seat we are oath-sworn to protect. Biflindi’s lands to the east have been threatened by Jarl Randver. And our king is not happy about it.’ There was a flash of teeth then in Harald’s fair beard. ‘That dog Randver has slipped his leash and his appetite has outgrown him. Today we whip the hound!’
    The men cheered at that and those who carried spears banged the shafts against their shields and it was like an echo of King Gorm’s byname Biflindi, meaning ‘shield-shaker’. Even Hagal the skald seemed to be lifted like an eagle on a warm wind, despite how the jarl had teased him the night before.
    ‘With the king’s own men and those bondsmen he will have rounded up we will have the advantage of numbers.’ Harald hawked and spat a wad of phlegm onto the slick decking of the jetty. ‘But do not underestimate Jarl Randver for he is the kind that will wait until you are looking the other way and then bite your arse. Besides which, you know as well as I that bóndi more often than not run off back to their farms as soon as the first spears are thrown.’
    ‘That’s why Biflindi is fighting Randver at sea!’ Slagfid roared from
Reinen
’s prow, ‘because the goat-fucking bóndi can’t run away if they’re on a ship.’
    Men cheered that rare wit from Harald’s chosen prow man and more than ever Sigurd burnt to be one of them, a sword-brother going into a fight, instead of the jarl’s youngest son who must stay behind with the women and the boys and the old men.
    ‘See my son Sigurd here!’ Harald exclaimed. ‘Brave Týr himself could not be more eager to fight with us today!’ Harald threw a brawny arm around Sigurd and pulled him into his chest, against the brynja’s polished iron rings. ‘I am lucky that all my sons are wolves. They thirst for the blood of our enemies!’ Sigurd could smell the mead on his father’s breath. A man needed mead or ale in his belly before he gave himself to the steel-storm, or else, Olaf had told him once, thoughts of blades slicing into flesh will send a man mad. ‘The lad will fight amongst us soon enough.’
    Then the jarl released Sigurd and turned his gaze on Asgot who was snarling at six thralls as they hauled on the halter of an ox, trying to bring it down to the water. The godi was dressed in animal skins and had bones plaited in his long, wolf-grey hair, and some of the women near by clutched their broods a little closer as if they feared Asgot might steal the children for some dark purpose.
    ‘The Allfather craves blood, too!’ Harald called, ‘and we shall let him drink.’ All eyes were turned to the godi and the ox, which was bellowing pitifully, either because it could smell the sea and feared it, or more likely because it had seen the wicked-sharp knife in Asgot’s hand and had enough clever in it to know what was coming.
    Asgot raised the knife in one claw-like hand, pointing the blade to the sky. ‘Óðin, accept this offering. Show us your favour and together we will turn the sea red with the traitor’s blood.’ With that he stepped behind one of the thralls