“Bold of you. Plumbing a girl without so much as a by your leave.”
He blew ale out of his nose, fell into a coughing fit and had to be clapped on the back by Odda, who seized the chance to honk out his ill-made verse on Brand lifting the ship. The slope got steeper and the danger greater and the feat more impressive with every telling, Safrit beaming at Brand and saying, “He saved my son’s life.” The only one to dispute the questionable facts was Brand himself, who couldn’t have looked less comfortable at all the praise if he’d been sitting on a spike.
“How are things around the Shattered Sea?” Blue Jenner asked when the song was over. “It’s been a year since we’ve seen home.”
“Much as they were,” said Yarvi. “Grandmother Wexen makes ever greater demands on behalf of the High King. The latest talk is of taxes.”
“A pox on him and his One God!” snapped Jenner. “A fellow should own what he takes, not have to rent it from some other thief just because he has the bigger chair.”
“The more some men get the more they want,” said Yarvi, and folk on both sides of the fire murmured their agreement.
“Was the Divine clear?”
“We found no trouble, anyway,” said Rulf. “And the Denied?”
Jenner sucked at the gaps in his teeth. “The damn Horse People are stirred up like angry bees, attacking boats and caravans, burning steadings within sight of Kalyiv.”
“Which tribe?” asked Yarvi. “Uzhaks? Barmeks?”
Jenner stared back blankly. “There are tribes?”
“All with their own ways.”
“Well, they mostly shoot the same kind of arrows, far as I can see, and the Prince of Kalyiv isn’t making much distinction between ’em either. He’s grown sick of their taunting, and means to teach them a bloody lesson.”
“The best kind,” said Odda, baring his filed teeth.
“Except he’s not planning to do it with his own hands.”
“Princes rarely do,” said Yarvi.
“He’s strung a chain across the Denied and is letting no fighting crew pass until we Northerners have helped him give the Horse People their proper chastisement.”
Rulf puffed up his broad chest. “Well he won’t be stopping the Minister of Gettland.”
“You don’t know Prince Varoslaf and no sensible man would want to. There’s no telling what that bald bastard will do one moment to the next. Only reason we got away is I spun him a tale about spreading the news and bringing more warriors from the Shattered Sea. If I was you I’d turn back with us.”
“We’re going on,” said Yarvi.
“Then the very best of weatherluck to you all, and let’s hope you don’t need weaponluck.” Blue Jenner took a long draft from his cup. “But I fear you might.”
“As might anyone who takes the tall hauls.” Skifr lay on her back, arms behind her head, bare feet toward the fire. “Perhaps you should test yours while you can?”
“What did you have in mind, woman?” growled Crouch.
“A friendly test of arms with practice blades.” Skifr yawned wide. “My pupil has beaten everyone on our crew and needs new opponents.”
“Who’s your pupil?” asked Jenner, peering over at Dosduvoi, who seemed a mountain in the flickering shadows.
“Oh, no,” said the giant. “Not me.”
Thorn put on her bravest face, stood, and stepped into the firelight. “Me.”
There was a silence. Then Crouch gave a disbelieving cackle, soon joined by others.
“This half-haired waif?”
“Can the girl even heft a shield?”
“She could heft a needle, I reckon. I need someone to stitch a hole in my sock!”
“You’ll need someone to stitch a hole in you after she’s done,” growled Odda.
A lad maybe a year older than Thorn begged for the chance to give her the first beating and the two crews gathered in a noisy circle with torches to light the contest, shouting insults and encouragement, making wagers on their crew-mate. He was a big one with great thick wrists, fierce in the eyes. Thorn’s father always said, fear is a good thing. Fear keeps you careful. Fear keeps you alive. That was just as well because Thorn’s heart was thudding so hard she thought her skull might burst.
“Bet on this scrap of nothing?” yelled Crouch, chopping one of his armrings in half with a hatchet and betting it against Thorn. “Might as well throw your money in the river! You having a piece of this?”
Blue Jenner quietly stroked his beard so his own armrings rattled. “I like my money where it is.”