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.“You’ll find out soon enough.”“All that means is that you don’t know what we’re supposed to do either,” Erdmun grumbled.His brother ignored him.Skylan burned with impatience.Sigurd stood scratching his jaw.A soldier led Aylaen to the crude circle that had been painted on the deck.Raegar had flushed in anger when she had come forward and had started to try to stop her.Treia had said something to him and he had kept silent.Aylaen paid no attention.The expression on her face was grave and solemn.“Do you think she knows? Guesses?” Sigurd muttered.Skylan shook his head.He had no idea.Aylaen’s gaze went from one of the men to the other.“Do both of you agree to abide by the judgment of Torval?”“I trust to Torval’s judgment,” said Sigurd.“Do you, Skylan Ivorson?” Aylaen asked, and then added with a tremor in her voice, “You are the one who lied and cheated and committed murder.Do you trust to Torval to judge you?”Skylan was startled by her brutal words.He opened his mouth to say that he did trust in Torval, but the words suddenly stuck in his throat.Torval had punished Skylan for his crimes, for what could be worse than being a slave? Still, Torval was known to be a vengeful god with a memory as long as time.Perhaps he had not yet finished with Skylan.“I trust in Torval,” Skylan said at last and he knew, in his heart, that he meant it.Whatever happened, he had faith in his god.Aylaen’s green eyes turned gray as the sea.“I pray that Torval will judge you as you deserve.”“If he does, I’ll be chief,” said Sigurd.“First blood, remember?”Aylaen directed the two combatants to their places, facing each other on opposite sides of the circle.Acronis explained the rules to his men, relating how each of the barbarians would be given a chance to strike his opponent, who was permitted only to deflect the blow with shield or weapon.He could not defend himself or fight back.Either man who was forced out of the circle was disgraced, dishonored.Last-minute bets were exchanged.Current money was on Sigurd.Everyone except Raegar and Treia settled themselves to watch.The disapproving priest and priestess showed their disdain by walking off to stand at the stern, as far from the fight as they could get, and feigned disinterest by looking out at the water.Skylan saw without seeming to see Bjorn and Grimuir and the others start surreptitiously to quietly free themselves from the manacles which they had unlocked the night before.Skylan, as the one challenged, had the right to strike the first blow.He hefted one of the shields and grasped his weapon.The soldier had chosen weapons at random.Skylan had no idea what had happened to his sword, Blood Dancer, but had been hoping Torval would drop it into the soldier’s hand.Either Torval didn’t want Skylan to have his sword or the sword wasn’t even there.He recognized the blade the soldier had chosen for him.Skylan had given the sword to Bjorn as a gift before they had sailed.He looked at Bjorn and raised the sword in salute.His friend gave him a half smile and a nod.Sigurd planted his feet on the deck and lifted the shield, bracing himself for the blow.He and Skylan had agreed that they would fight a few rounds, wait until the soldiers were concentrating on the battle, and then attack their foes.Skylan stood poised for his charge at Sigurd when he was halted by a gasp and a cry.He turned to see a soldier holding Aylaen, a long-bladed knife to her throat.“She will not be harmed,” Acronis called from where he sat at his ease on the stool beneath the canopy, “so long as you use those swords on each other and not turn them on me.”CHAPTER11* * *BOOK ONESick with defeat, Skylan struck Sigurd’s shield with a strength born of rage and frustration.Sigurd staggered beneath the blow and almost fell.His shield split in two.His arm tingled from wrist to elbow.He flung down the pieces of his shield.Skylan walked back to his place in the circle, as the rules required, waiting for his opponent to recover.As he did so, he glanced at Bjorn, who scratched his beard and gave a jerk of his head.That was the signal; the men were all free of their shackles and ready to fight.For all the good that would do them now.Sigurd picked up another shield.His expression was grim and dark.His fingers hovered near the hilt of his sword and suddenly he grinned—the wide, crazed grin that he wore when he was standing in the shield wall covered in his enemy’s blood.Sigurd wasn’t supposed to draw his weapon.By the rules of the Vutmana, he had to stand there and take the hit.Skylan knew the moment he saw Sigurd’s mouth split in that rictus grin that Sigurd didn’t give a damn about freeing himself or the others.He was out for Skylan’s blood.Skylan dropped his shield and advanced, sword in both hands.He struck Sigurd’s shield and, watching his enemy’s feet, saw Sigurd shift to bring up his sword.Skylan was hampered in his attack by the fact that he needed Sigurd alive.Skylan twisted, kicked, and, dropping to the deck on his hip, slid feetfirst into Sigurd, taking him out at the knees.The astonished Sigurd pitched over Skylan’s head and landed on top of Skylan.He lay there a moment, gasping.Skylan throttled him; he had to half choke him to get the blood-crazed man to listen and then he had to repeat his words twice.“Our warriors are free! You stupid bastard, our warriors can fight!”Sigurd grunted, then he clouted Skylan in the mouth, splitting open his lip [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]