Read Online The Lord of Vik-Lo: A Novel of Viking Age Ireland (The Norsemen Saga Book 3) by James L. Nelson - Free Book Online Page B

who of anyone were most likely to assault the longphort, had never managed to organize themselves for such an effort and they did not seem ready to do so now. But that could change. As Lorcan mac Fáeláin amassed more power he became more of a threat to the dubh-gall at Vík-ló whom he despised.
      That part of Ireland called Leinster, which included Vík-ló, was ruled by Ruarc mac Brain, and it was to Ruarc that Lorcan owed allegiance. But Ruarc mac Brain had recently married a young bride, heir to a kingdom called Tara, or so Grimarr had divined through the sparse information that filtered in from beyond the walls. These days Ruarc was gone much of the time, off to the north. His absence gave Lorcan more room to build his forces and consolidate the loyalty of those who would follow him. If he were to gain a significant amount of wealth, such as that which had been aboard Sea Rider , there was no telling how much loyalty he could buy.
      But those worries were only background noise now, like the constant beating of the rain on the roof. Grimarr had more immediate concerns, such as how to dispose of the numerous dead in a way that was respectful, pleasing to the gods, and not overly burdensome or costly.
      Grimarr called a council. Sandarr was there. Not because Grimarr particularly sought his advice, but because it would have been too great a mark of disrespect to exclude him, and might reveal a rift between father and son that someone with plans could exploit. There was also a man named Bersi Jorundarson and another called Hilder who were looked upon as leaders by the men at Vík-ló. The only man Grimarr would actually have wanted to take part in the council was Fasti Magnisson, who, along with Grimarr Giant, had always been considered the lords of the longphort. But Fasti’s pale, lifeless body was lying under a sail just abaft the mast step of his ship, his days of giving wise council ended.
      “There’s not room enough in this longphort to bury them all,” Bersi pronounced. “And burying them outside the walls is not a possibility.”
      The others nodded.
      “I don’t think there’s firewood to spare in all Vík-ló for a funeral pyre for all those dead,” Sandarr added, “not with winter coming on.” This, too, was greeted by more nods. The gesture was starting to annoy Grimarr. The three men looked at him and waited for his pronouncement. There was only one option, really, but Grimarr was loath to choose it, because ships were not an easy thing to come by, and he would have need of Sea Rider if he were to get back what was rightfully his.
      On the other hand, he could not just let those dead men be eaten by the swine in the streets. That would not do much to encourage the others to follow him into battle.
      “Very well, we will cremate them aboard Sea Rider ,” Grimarr said. “Once this cursed rain stops. They died together, they can go off to the gods together.”
      Once again the others nodded. “Their swords, shields, helmets, battle axes will burn with them,” Grimarr continued. “Not their mail.”
      Bersi and Hilder exchanged glances. “Not their mail?” Hilder asked. “We’ll strip off their mail?”
      Idiots , Grimarr thought. “They have no need of mail in Odin’s hall. Even if they are wounded in battle, they’ll heal by night.” He did not add that mail was of great value in Ireland and hard to come by. He did not have to.
      So, when the winds died down and the rain tapered off to where leaving the warmth of the hearth was no longer an absolute misery, the men of Vík-ló descended on the river bank and the ship Sea Rider tied up there. They pulled the sail back to reveal the bodies underneath, undisturbed, though the few days they had laid there in repose had not improved their appearance.
      At Grimarr’s command, and over a spark of objection which Grimarr stamped out quickly and completely, the men set about the unpleasant business of removing the mail