Two Ravens Read Online Free PDF

death in Iceland.”
    Bjarni drank a third cup of the thick foamy beer. He and Sigurd spoke of the voyage from Iceland. All the while, men came in and went out of the hall. They were richly dressed, and all of them carried some weapon, most of them more than one.
    “Hoskuld was a good fighter,” Sigurd said. “Something might be made of you, although you seem milder than he. Stay on awhile, I will convince you that your fortunes lie with me.”
    “I will stay,” Bjarni said, “until you convince me otherwise.”
    At that Sigurd laughed again.
    The men of Swan brought their sea-chests into a small sleeping booth near the water and made their beds there. When the sun set, they went to the hall.
    Now it was thick with men. Two big casks of beer were open by the door, and the men came and dunked their drinking cups and strode off, their sleeves dripping. At the table Sigurd was talking to some other men, and there were people bent over chess-games. Along the side of the hearth a boy cranked a roast on the spit.
    Sigurd’s fair daughter came to them. Smiling, she took them through the crowd to a bench where they might sit, and she and another girl brought them bread and cheese to eat. Ulf tried to speak to her; he caught at her skirt, but she whisked it away, laughing at him. She was back in a moment and sat down beside him.
    Andres and Jon sat crouched together on the bench. “This is a thieves’ den,” Andres said, between his teeth. “Keep your hand on your pennies.”
    Bjarni wondered if Andres had ever owned a penny. Most of the Icelanders had already drifted away through Sigurd’s men toward the beer kegs. Kristjan stood near a wooden pillar, his dark eyes moving. His mother’s eyes were blue. Bjarni stirred; he went away from his brothers, around the hearth.
    Being taller than most of the men he could see what went on. He strolled around the hall, watching Sigurd’s men talking and gaming. The blond girl had given him a cup; he filled it with beer. Presently he found an empty place on a bench before the hearth and sat down. He meant not to think of Hiyke, but he did.
    “That is my place,” a loud voice said.
    Beside him was a burly man with blue and red feathers in his beard. All the men nearby quieted, turning to watch. Sigurd was watching, his elbows braced on the table.
    “That is my place,” the feathered man said again, and kicked at Bjarni’s leg.
    Bjarni moved his leg out of the way. “Is that so,” he said. “Then you may have it when I get up.”
    “I said it is my place!”
    The feathered man lunged at him. Bjarni jumped to his feet and drove his fist into the man’s broad belly. A yell went up from the other men watching. The burly man swung his arm roundabout at Bjarni’s head, and Bjarni hit him again just below the ribs. The man fell.
    Surprised, Bjarni backed away; he had not expected to win so easily. At the High Seat, Sigurd was standing, his hand raised. All the men in the hall waited for his words. Sigurd spread his lips in his ugly smile.
    “Here is Lyr fallen, does he have no friends to help him?”
    “I’m Lyr’s friend,” a voice bawled, from the other side of the hearth, and a red-haired man strode through the crowd toward Bjarni.
    Bjarni stepped backward, away from Lyr, and turned to put his back to the hearth. He glanced once at Sigurd, beaming in his place at the High Seat. The red-headed man charged, his arms milling.
    Bjarni knocked his first blows out of the way; the redheaded man tripped him, and they fell. The red-headed man sank his teeth into Bjarni’s shoulder. Bjarni hit him twice in the head. His hand turned numb but the redhead, dazed, opened his jaws, and Bjarni threw him off. He lurched up onto his knees.
    Already another man was coming at him from the crowd. Behind the solid wall of men, Ulf shouted. Bjarni called, “Stay back!” He jumped to his feet to meet the man coming toward him.
    That was a small man, but tough and fast, who hit him twice before