He had made certain of that, taking the trouble to read it after Oeric the Scot’s scribe had written the demand out. And he personally placed Oeric’s seal on it.
The felag had come for gold coin lawfully owed them. If they could trade or provide some measure of protection while they were here, so much the better. But no one cheated them.
This summer’s sea voyage was proving reasonably profitable. The new design for the boats had worked, skimming the ocean’s surface, increasing their speed. The Scots desired the Vikens’ thick fur pelts and amber beads.
There was simply this business to conclude. Then they sailed back home with honour.
‘We have come here for the money Oeric the Scot owes us.’
The Abbot raised a brow. ‘I am surprised at a Norseman speaking Latin.’
‘We are traders. We learn the languages as they are needed.’ Haakon kept his eyes fixed somewhere over the Abbot’s shoulder. There was no need to give his life’s history, not yet. Later, perhaps when their business dealings were complete and they were enjoying a cup of mead together. He held out his hands, palms upwards. ‘We come in peace. We only want what is promised us.’
‘How can I tell this tablet is genuine?’
‘We would have hardly come here if it wasn’t.’
‘I have heard of raids by your sort against defenceless farms.’
‘Other traders. Not us. We come to do business, not to make war.’ Haakon permitted a smile to cross his features. ‘Although we have been known to provide protection, should it be required.’
‘This is God’s chosen place. We have no need of protection here.’
Haakon was pleased neither his half-brother, Thrand, or, more importantly, his leading oarsman, Bjorn, understood Latin. It had been hard enough arguing with Bjorn that they should try for peaceful negotiations. There was much potential for good trading with Northumbria, but equally there were dangers. The Northumbrians were known to be skilful fighters. Haakon glanced at the large berserker standing next to him. There were many who might say that Bjorn’s place was back on the boat, but he wanted him here, in case of trouble.
Beside him Bjorn stiffened and his nostrils flared. What did his old friend sense? Were there Valkyries in the light breeze? Haakon dismissed the thought as fanciful.
‘We have come in peace,’ Haakon said again, keeping his voice steady.
The monks might look feeble, but he felt certain the monastery would be well guarded. How could it be otherwise? He had heard tales of its fabulous wealth and learning. Surely he and his men were not the first to have been tempted, but the Viken did not have enough men for a sustained assault. They had lost several to storms and sickness earlier in the summer. They would need each one to get the boats safely back home. It would be too risky a venture. They would settle this dispute diplomatically.
‘If you have come in peace, then perhaps we should discuss this.’ The Abbot bowed his silver head. ‘No doubt once I have weighed the merits of the case, I can make a better assessment. May I?’
‘There are few merits to weigh.’
‘But I fear you have been sent here on a fool’s errand. I do not know offhand if we store any money for Oeric the Scot.’
‘That is not my problem. The Scot showed me the tablet in your hand, with your seal, saying you did.’
A monk with a pockmarked face, standing at the Abbot’s side, tugged on his robe and then whispered in his ear. Haakon watched a frown appear on the Abbot’s face.
‘And you have this tablet?’ The Abbot held out his hand, and then let it drop to his side. ‘I thought not. Still, I will investigate it. It will take some time. You and your men are welcome to take on water and supplies.’
‘I do have his mark.’ Haakon gritted his teeth and crossed his arms. ‘Oeric assured me that would be sufficient. We do not intend to be cheated out of our rightful gold.’
‘You scum, you raiding scum. My uncle Oeric never cheated anyone!’ the pockmarked monk shouted out. ‘You cannot foul this holy place with your poisonous heathen lies.’
‘You are right, cousin!’ another shouted. ‘These are the raiders who destroyed my father’s farm last year.’
‘We never—’ Haakon began.
Before he could finish the sentence, the second monk rushed forward with an outstretched dagger, reaching Erik and stabbing him in the stomach before he could react. A red stain spread out over his leather jerkin.
‘To me! To me!’ Haakon shouted. ‘We have been attacked!’
Annis leant out as far as she dared and tried to hear the exchange of words between her uncle and the handsome barbarian.
Her uncle, head held high, turned his back and began to walk away. Someone called out sharply in a foreign tongue. Her uncle stopped. A monk rushed forward, punched one of the barbarians in the stomach. How would her uncle punish the insubordination? Her uncle’s guards rushed forward to protect the monk as the raiders drew their swords.
Annis felt as if she was watching underwater. Time slowed and each movement seemed to take an age. The guards charged, but were engaged immediately.
The wild man lifted his axe aloft, shouting in a barbaric tongue. The dark-haired man put out his hand to check him, but the man shrugged him off as he advanced towards her uncle, axe gleaming in the morning sun.
Her uncle did not move. There was a questioning look on his face. He held up his hands—in blessing or as a plea.
The barbarian paid no attention. He brought his axe down with a single savage blow.
Annis stifled a cry and turned her face from the horror, but the image of the axe falling, and blood spurting, staining the golden sand with its deep red as her uncle’s head rolled, was imprinted on her brain. She did not dare look back as the noise from the beach swelled around her, screams and pleas for mercy combined with furious barbaric chanting.
The bells began pealing furiously again.
Her body became numb. Her hand covered her mouth and her insides churned. Her brain kept protesting that this could not be real. It had to be a nightmare. Such things did not happen here.
Annis wanted to sink to her knees and cry, but above all she wanted to wake up. She bit her lip, tasted blood and then she knew everything was real, horribly, terribly real. But her feet remained frozen. Annis knew if she glanced back, the golden sands would be stained red with blood.
‘What is it, my lady? What has happened? Your face has gone pale. Tell me—what did you see?’ Mildreth’s voice cut through her paralysis.
‘We need to hide. Quickly.’ Annis clasped her hands together. ‘Something terrible has happened on the beach. We are not safe. No one is safe.’
Annis swept the contents of her dressing table into a satchel as she tried to think clearly. There had been rumours of such creatures for several years, attacking farms and demanding tribute from towns near the coast, but she had never imagined any barbarian
