Viking Gold (23 page)

“That is most terrible,”
Brother Alfred said, frowning. “I will pray for Karl’s soul, certainly I will,
even though he was a pagan. But I fail to see how this connects to me.”

“Sinead and I, before we
spoke to you in the barn, we overheard,” he glanced awkwardly at Sinead. She
nodded for him to continue. “We overheard my uncle asking if you knew who the
traitor was. You didn’t answer. But if you do know, no matter who you were
protecting, you
must
tell me now because my uncle thinks it is Sinead.”

Sinead let out an involuntary
gasp. “It was your uncle in the barn?” she said, covering her mouth with her
hand.

Redknee nodded.

“
Oh,
 I will hang for this if the real
murderer cannot be found!”

“Stay calm,” Redknee said,
placing his hand on her shoulder. “
I
believe you didn’t do it. Brother
Alfred can repay the service you have done him.”

Brother Alfred shook his
head. His face had turned pale.

“I wish I could help you,
child,” he said, looking at Sinead. “I truly do. But I don’t know what your
friend is talking about. You see, it wasn’t me Sven Kodranson was questioning
in the barn, but the other prisoner. The big pagan one with teeth like coals,
Toki, I think his name is.”

As Redknee digested this new
information, a burning rock flew from the mouth of the volcano landing with a
hiss close to where they stood. Silver leapt sideways with a yelp.

“We can’t stay here,” Redknee
said, tugging Sinead’s sleeve as a second flaming rock crashed into the earth,
this one shattering in a spray of orange sparks. He turned to Brother Alfred.
“We must go
now
.”

Brother Alfred shrugged him
off. “You go and see to this Toki, I have not finished the litany. God has kept
me safe today. He will continue to keep me safe while I pray.”

Another rock landed next to
them, the dry grass at their feet crackled before erupting in flames. Brother
Alfred looked surprised but remained kneeling.

“Sinead?” Redknee grabbed her
hand as the grass fire began to spread. “Don’t be foolish. Come with me
now
.”

As Sinead hesitated, a rock
struck her head, knocking her to the ground. Like a ravenous beast, the fire
closed round her, trapping her in its jaws. Redknee pulled his cloak over his
head, leapt through the flames and lifted her across his shoulder. The fire was
already hot, and getting hotter. Sweat trickled down his spine as he looked for
an opening. There were no gaps.

“You have to jump!” Brother
Alfred had stopped his praying.
About bloody time
, Redknee thought.

Taking
a deep breath and closing his eyes, he ran at the flames as fast as he could.
Heat scoured his body, then cool air hit his lungs; he fell to the ground and
rolled in the mud. He came to a stop. Sinead’s dress was singed at the edges,
but she was otherwise unharmed. He shook her gently while Silver and Brother
Alfred looked on.

As Sinead stirred, her hand
shot to the cut on her forehead. Blood smeared her fingertips. “What happened?”
she asked groggily.   

“A flying rock from the
volcano hit you. But I think you won.”

A smile flashed across
Sinead’s face, but it was short-lived. The fire had gathered pace now, fed by a
hundred smaller blazes and a new burst of flying rocks. Redknee pulled her to
her feet. She staggered a few steps before collapsing against him.

“Come on,” he said, tugging
hard. “We have to race the fire. Think you’re up to it?”

She nodded cautiously. Silver
yapped encouragement.

Redknee turned to Brother
Alfred. “Your God has given up for the day,” he said.

The little monk winced, but
he followed Redknee all the same.

The
four of them tore down the mountain pursued by a twisting knot of flame. By the
time they reached
Reykjavik
, the volcano’s caldera had burst and sheets of
scalding ash were falling thick and fast. The longhouses nearest the mountain
were ablaze. A group of men were trying to douse the flames. Redknee ran up to
a young man carrying a wooden pail and tried to tell him it was pointless, that
they must leave. The young man shrugged him off. It was the swineherd from the
first day on the island.

The town was in chaos. People
running everywhere. Some huddled under blankets, trying to avoid the falling
ash. Others just stood there, staring at the sky. He held his scarf over his
mouth. They would all suffocate if they didn’t get out fast. He turned to
Sinead. Her eyes were wide with fear.

“We must get to
Wavedancer
,”
he said. “And quick, there won’t be enough boats for everyone.”

Astrid stood outside her
longhouse, her silk dress smeared black. She was with a group of her warriors.
They stood in a circle round a young woman. The woman’s hair had been shaved
off so her head looked strangely deformed. One of the men pushed the woman to
her knees and held her still.

Astrid stepped into the
middle of the circle and raised her hands aloft. The breeze whipped her golden
hair about her face as she turned to face
Mount
Hekla
.

“Frey, god of farming,
protector of
Iceland
, as a sign of our loyalty, we give you this
sacrifice.”

Sinead gasped. “They’re going
to kill her!”

Suddenly Redknee knew what
Astrid meant by
keeping Frey satisfied
.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Brother
Alfred said, “this won’t do.” He knelt and started to pray.

“Stand up, you fool,” Redknee
said. “You’re as bad as them. We need action, not more praying.”

Redknee charged forward as
the warrior holding the girl drew his dagger. He didn’t see Redknee’s fist. The
blow, delivered square on the chin, sent the man flying into the mud. As he hit
the ground with a squelch, Redknee heard twenty swords drawn in unison. He
froze. He hadn’t exactly thought of an exit strategy.

“What are you doing?” Astrid asked,
her voice high and panicky. “We must pacify Frey or the whole island will be
devoured by his wrath.”

“You think slaughtering this
girl will help?” Redknee asked.

“The sacrifice of a slave has
always worked in the past. What else would you suggest? Dousing the lava with
buckets of water?”

Redknee shook his head. “We
must leave,” he said.

Astrid laughed. “There aren’t
enough boats for even half the people of
Reykjavik
.” 

Sinead stepped forward.
“We’re wasting time. We must go.”

“Listen to the slave girl,”
Astrid said, “before I sacrifice her instead.”

“This is stupid,” Redknee
said. “There’s space on
Wavedancer
for you, your men, and many more
besides.”

Astrid shook her head. “We
will stay and make the sacrifice. It will pacify Frey. Anyone who leaves, I
shall regard as a traitor.”

“You’re sentencing these
people to death if you force them to remain,” Redknee said.

One of Astrid’s men stepped
forward, his face white. “If there’s a space for us,” he said trembling, “we
should take it. Save our sacrifice for when we really need Frey’s protection.”

Suddenly the rest of the men
were agreeing.

Redknee sighed with relief.
He wasn’t going to be cut to pieces just yet.  

Most of the longhouses were
on fire now. Astrid looked around her and then at the cowering slave girl. A
scowl of disappointment marred Astrid’s pretty features. “Very well, then,” she
said. “To the beach!”

The warriors began running
through the town towards the harbour. Redknee pulled the slave girl to her
feet. She had no more than thirteen summers to her pitiful frame. “You’re free
to go,” he said.

The girl stared at him with
terror in her eyes. She seemed not to comprehend. Then Sinead spoke to her in a
strange, lilting tongue. The girl nodded and started running towards the beach.
Redknee stared at Sinead.

“She speaks the Irish,”
Sinead said, shrugging.

Redknee turned to Brother
Alfred. “You must take Sinead and Silver to
Wavedancer
.”

“Oh, yes,” Brother Alfred said,
springing to life. He took Sinead by the elbow and began leading her towards
the beach.

“Are you coming too?” she
called over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right behind you.
There’s one thing I must do first.” He turned and started across the yard
towards the barn. Silver followed him.

“No – you go with Sinead.” He
spoke sternly.

The pup glanced towards
Brother Alfred’s retreating figure.

Redknee sighed. “I need you
to look after her.”

Silver hesitated, gold eyes
wide, before darting off, quickly catching up with the mis-matched pair.

The
barn sat on a small hill behind the longhouses. The fire had not reached it
yet, if he was quick, he could make it there and back in time.

The
barn was hot and dark inside. Redknee peered through the smoke. He heard a cough.
Toki was still in there. He kept his head low where the smoke was thinnest and
found Toki tied to the pillar where he’d left him the night before.

“Waste of time,” The big man
said when he saw Redknee.

“What do you mean?”

“Coming back to kill me.”

“Don’t worry. You’re not so
lucky. I’m here to speak to you.”

“Really? You mean I have my
uses. What’s in it for me?”

“If I like what you say, I’ll
release you. If I
believe
what you say, I might let you come on
Wavedancer
.”

“So sure your uncle hasn’t already
left.”

Redknee shrugged. “You should
trust me. I’m the only chance you’ve got.”

“All right. What do you want
to know?”

“I heard my uncle questioning
you last night.”

Toki nodded slowly. “Coward
gave me this.” He tilted his head so Redknee could see his bloody lip.

Redknee winced. He didn’t
like to think of his uncle dealing out brutality. “So you didn’t answer his
questions?”

Toki shook his head. “Matter
of fact, I thought you were Sven, back to put an end to me.”

“Why would my uncle want to kill
you? Apart from you being one of Ragnar’s lackeys.”

“’Cause of what I know.”

“Go on.”

“You Erik Kodranson’s boy?”

Redknee nodded.

“I knew your father.”

“You lie.”

“It’s true. I knew both your parents.
I grew up with your mother as a guest in her father’s house. She was a good
friend.”

“And yet you attacked me –
and my mother too.”

Toki shook his head. “If I’d
wanted to kill you, or your mother, I would have succeeded. My time with Ragnar
was done.”

“You
let
me capture
you? On
purpose
?”

Toki shrugged.

Redknee eyed Toki with
disbelief. He didn’t know what to think. “I don’t know,” he said, “your story
could be a trick to get me to trust you.”

“Lad, you ask the wrong
questions. You can’t afford not to trust me. Did you know your mother almost
married Ragnar?”

“That’s a lie.”

Toki laughed. “Oh, your uncle
never mentioned that? And neither he would. You see, he was in love with your
mother too.”

“Stop it … stop these lies.
Just tell me why Sven was questioning you about the book. What is it you know?”

“I’m telling you – if you’ll
listen.”

“Get on with it then.”

“Your uncle was jealous of
your father,” Toki said, coughing. The smoke was getting thicker. “I suppose he
told you your father was a pathetic warrior. You don’t need to answer. The look
on your face says it all. Well, it’s true he wasn’t much of a fighter. But that
doesn’t mean he wasn’t brave. Before you were born, your father, Sven and
Ragnar raided an Irish monastery. They stole many great treasures from it, not
least a precious book, the only one of its kind in the world.”

“The
Codex
Hibernia
?”

Toki nodded. “Your father
became obsessed with the book – with decoding its secrets. But there was a
falling out – that’s when your father fought Ragnar. Afterwards, Ragnar ran
away with the loot and set himself up as a warlord, buying in mercenaries to
enforce his rule. He didn’t get the book though – Sven, the canny old fox, must
have taken it for himself in the commotion.”

“Damn,” Redknee said. “I
knew
the book was linked to my father. But why was my uncle questioning
you
about it?”

“Back then, I was your
father’s closest friend. Your uncle believes your father, in his obsession,
decoded the exact location of the treasure. Sven thinks your father told me
where this was.”