Perilous Seas Read Online Free PDF

Nordland-born, and he kept the
disorder within some limits with the aid of his five sons, of whom Gathmor was
the youngest. Ogi was fairly sure that Brual must have a few swords tucked away
somewhere.
    Never
enough! Not if Kani had truly seen what he had claimed. Not if that second boat
had borne an orca emblem on its sail.
    An
orca was a killer whale, but it meant more than that in Nordland. It meant a
thane’s ship-raiders.
    Gasping
and sweating, Ogi came reeling up the bank and recklessly pushed his way
through the line of blond, bare-chested sailors standing in ghostly silence,
watching what was happening in the moot-stow.
    The
wide space was almost empty, except for the fire and Brual himself, flanked by
the only two of his sons who were in port at the moment, Rathkrun and Gathmor.
Brual had an ax and his sons bore swords. Their shadows stretched long on the
ground behind them.
    Three
strangers were striding up from the sea jotnar, of course, recognizable by
their pale skin. They wore metal helmets and leather breeches and boots. They
seemed to be unarmed.
    But
far behind them, an unfamiliar longship glimmered in the darkness on the placid
waters of the bay, and men were wading ashore and lining up along the beach.
Seeing no glint of weapons, Ogi decided that they also were unarmed. They must
be, because their round shields still hung along the low side of that sinister
boat. They wore helmets, though.
    One
group of waders was carrying a hogshead, and another had already been set on
the sand. The ship had anchored, not beached; that was ominous. Yet the barrels
suggested gifts, and might be a hopeful sign.
    The
entire male population of Durthing was there. It seemed to be holding its
breath.
    The
three strangers stopped at a safe distance, and the night silence grew deeper
and heavier, as if even the sea and the crickets had stopped to listen. Fear
drifted though the trees like an invisible fog.
    “What
ship?” That was Brual, loud and harsh.
    The
stranger in the middle stepped forward one pace from his companions. He was
tall and young and muscular. He was cleanshaven, while they were heavily
bearded.
    “Blood
Wave. And I am her master, Salthan, son of Ridkrol. “
    “What
is your business, Captain?” Brual’s voice was strong, but curiously
flat.
    “Who
asks?” Salthan was quieter, and he seemed completely at ease, although he
was much closer to the ax and the swords than he was to his own crew.
    “I
am Brual, son of Gathrun. These are my sons.”
    Salthan
put his fists on his hips and the gesture blazed with arrogance. “We came
in peace, Brual, son of Gathrun, but your manner is beginning to irk me. We
brought some beer to share with you, to exchange, perhaps, for some traditional
jotunnish hospitality? “
    Silence
fell again. Nobody moved. Perhaps Brual was thinking. Perhaps he was already
admitting disaster.
    Then
a man broke out of the crowd around the edges and ran a few steps forward and
stopped, ill lit by the blaze of the bonfire. Almost alone in the whole crowd,
he was dark-haired.
    “He
lies! “ the newcomer shouted. “His name is not Salthan! He is
Kalkor, the thane of Gark.”
    The
entire male population of Durthing seemed to draw breath in the same instant.
Ogi heard a low moan, and realized that it came from himself.
    When
the faun picked a quarrel, he picked a good one.
    The
stranger let the tension grow until Ogi wanted to scream. Then he said the
inevitable: “Who calls me a liar?”
    It
was Gathmor who answered, without turning his head to look.
    “He
is a thrall. If you would answer the charge, then answer it to me, who owns
hire. “
    “That’s
not true!” Rap yelled shrilly. “You freed me!” And he went
stalking forward defiantly until he stood at Gathmor’s side.
    Kalkor--for
Ogi had no doubts at all that the faun had spoken the truth, however he knew
it, and this was the most notorious raider on the four oceans-Kalkor seemed
more amused than ever.
    “Is
this a three-way