Read Online Iron Axe by Steven Harper - Free Book Online

this time of day most people were inside eating or getting ready for bed, but there was almost always
someone
about. White Halli’s men didn’t patrol here.
    Even as he completed this thought, a man carrying a lantern emerged from one house. He glanced up and down the street, but his lantern prevented him from seeing anything outside the circle of yellow light. He scurried to a neighboring house, knocked softly, and slipped inside.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Talfi asked, voice low.
    â€œI don’t know,” Danr admitted. Cold pricked his spine. “Let’s hurry.”
    A small side track outside the village led to Alfgeir’s farm. Danr turned down it and fought a rising sense of dread. Alfgeir wouldn’t take the news of the steer’s loss well. Somehow, Danr was sure, he would find a way to blame everything on Danr.
    Alfgeir didn’t disappoint.
    â€œWhy didn’t you kill the wyrm
before
it ate my steer?” he demanded.
    Danr looked down at his feet. His leg ached. They were standing in the dooryard of Alfgeir’s hall. Night had fallen,and the air was sharp with a spring frost. Alfgeir crossed his arms and leaned against the doorpost.
    â€œCan you answer?” he demanded. “Or are you mute as well as stupid?”
    Alfgeir’s scorn and anger filled the dooryard, pressing Danr to the ground. Danr’s face grew hot, and he felt small enough to crawl under one of the pebbles near his foot. He was acutely aware of Talfi standing nearby, and his embarrassment increased. Talfi hadn’t even been his friend for a day and already he had seen Alfgeir treating him like the thrall he was. Even Vik’s cold realm would be better than this.
    â€œExcuse me,
Carl
,” Talfi said. “I’m not sure you heard us. My friend here
killed
a giant wyrm. All by himself.”
    â€œIf it’s true.” Alfgeir sniffed. “Very convenient that this sudden wyrm ate the steer and then vanished into thin air.”
    Talfi bristled. “He saved our lives, and you’re worried about a scrawny steer that wasn’t worth half the debt you owe Master Orvandel?”
    â€œThat fine animal was
everything
I owed Orvandel, young man.” Alfgeir speared a finger at Talfi’s chest. “And you’d best remember to keep silent around your elders. As the saying goes, ‘A child must be obedient, quick, and
quiet.
’”
    â€œYou owe my uncle two milk cows, and I’m not to go back without them.”
    â€œThen you’ll not go back,” Alfgeir snapped. “I wouldn’t send him a half-dead dog.”
    With that, he slammed the door. Danr stared at it as the horror of Alfgeir’s affront crept over him. It wasn’t just his words—Alfgeir had failed to ask Talfi in or offer hospitality for the night. The insult was worse than spitting in Talfi’s face. Danr forced himself to turn and face his friend.
    Talfi drawled, “I can see why you enjoy working for him.”
    â€œYou can stay with me,” Danr said slowly. “I don’t have much to offer, but—”
    â€œI’m sure it’ll be better than anything Alfgeir has,” Talfi said. “Lead the way.”
    They trod in silence across the courtyard to the stable, and Danr entered ahead of Talfi. The familiar sounds and smells of sleepy cattle met him, and the air puffed a little warmer against his face. Straw rustled underfoot. Feeling a little more relaxed, Danr headed down the rows of stalls.
    â€œHow can you see in here?” Talfi called from the doorway.
    Danr stopped. His night-sensitive eyes had no trouble with near darkness, but he had forgotten that Talfi had no such advantage. “Just a moment,” he called back, and hurried down to his own stall, where he scrounged up a candle stump. He blew on the dim coals banked on his tiny stone hearth until he could light the wick and guide Talfi in. Danr’s face burned as