Blade was arm weary, yet he swung Aesculp like a stick of pinewood. "The next? Do not hang back, warriors. There is no fame in living so come and die."
He gambled with the third man and killed him at the second pass. The bronze axe tore out the man's throat and his head fell back on a slender skein of flesh to lie grotesquely between his shoulders.
Blade, though hard put to breathe, brandished the axe at them. "Aesculp is thirsty today. Who will offer his blood next?"
The muttering was sullen now. For a moment none stepped forward. The rain had increased and was washing some of the blood from Blade's face and body. Behind him Taleen and Sylvo crouched in silence, as he had bid them, and for this much he was grateful. He could not fight forever; if he was to win his gamble it must be soon.
The raiders sent up a new shout.
"Jarl Jarl Jarl Jarl!"
The man who stepped out to face Blade was of only medium height but his arms were as solid and packed with muscle as Blade's own. His hairy legs were thick and very badly bowed. He wore a purple cloak and a helmet with a silver spike, and Blade had seen him before. He was one of the two officers who had been talking to Redbeard.
The man called Jarl faced Blade with an enigmatic smile. He was smooth shaven a rare thing among the sea robbers with wide-set gray eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Beneath the purple cloak he wore a corselet of leather and bronze, and over this a shirt of light mail. Instead of the ubiquitous breeches this man wore a kilt of heavy plaid cloth that came high on his sturdy legs.
He saluted Blade with a broadsword very like the one Blade had used to kill Horsa, and though his tone was sombre enough there was a strain of merriment just beneath. The voice was a light tenor and, in his former life, Blade would have marked it as that of an educated man.
"It appears," said the man called Jarl, "that these dogs of mine have had a belly full of you, sire. I cannot say that I blame them, for you fight like a fiend. Perhaps you are a fiend, but that is no matter to me. You must die all the same. This I truly regret, sire, for I admire the way you handle that axe."
Blade scowled at him, knowing this to be the real test. This man had mettle that Blade had not faced before.
"Come and meet Aesculp," Blade taunted. "I doubt you will admire her so much then."
Jarl stroked his smooth chin. "You could yield, man. I like not to kill you and that is whole truth. Yield in honor and take your chances."
Blade scowled again. "I might yield, but not to promises. I am a prince in my own land and I will be treated as such. I also demand safety for my servant and the maid."
Jarl's gray eyes narrowd. "You demand?" It was spoken very softly.
"I demand!" And Blade swung the bronze axe again.
He thought Jarl's regret to be genuine. The man raised the great sword and advanced on Blade. "I am sorry for that," he said. "I have not the authority to grant demands to any unwise enough to make them. Only Getorix can do that, he who is called Redbeard, and the only answer he makes to demands is death! I wish you were wiser, man. I would have you fight with us and not against us. Warriors like you are not easily come by."
"Then summon Redbeard," said Blade boldly. "Such a bargain is possible, for I would as lief have my life as any man, and I know I cannot kill you all. But if only Redbeard commands only Redbeard can bargain! I will not treat with underlings."
"We shall see," said Jarl softly, "who is underling. Defend yourself, man."
Jarl went immediately to the point, wasting no time on clumsy broad strokes, and Blade barely parried the first thrust. Nausea rose in his throat and his heart was leaden. He was bone weary and this man was a swordsman. For a moment a mindless cold fear clutched at him, then be shook it off. A man had to die sometime.
Again Jarl's sword licked in like a striking serpent. Blade took a minor scratch on the forearm. The circle of raiders set up a gleeful howl. "Jarl Jarl Jarl!"
Jarl's smile was merry, though with a hint of melancholy. "If I roust kill a brave man," he muttered softly, "I would know his name. How are you called?"
"I am Blade," panted Blade. "Prince Blade of London!" The lie came smoothly out of nowhere, with no effort on his part He leaped at Jarl, summoning a final surge of strength, and drove the man backward. The bronze axe grew increasingly heavier and sweat dewed on Blade's face and ran stinging into his eyes, while his lungs labored painfully.
When the voice came it was like a brazen trumpet filling the courtyard. It clangored and hung long in the sudden silence.
"Hold!" It was Redbeard, shouting from the ramparts. Jarl dropped his point immediately and stepped back. A murmur of disappointment came from the watching sea robbers.
Redbeard, hands cupped to his mouth, shouted again. "I say hold! You, Jarl, offer the man his life and honor. That of his companions also. Such a warrior must not be slain meanly. But he owes me for the death of three of mine and I will have him pay in kind. See to it, Jarl. You speak in my name."
Blade stared up at the rampart. Redbeard, hands on hips now, stared back at him. The distance was great, yet Blade felt the impact of those feral eyes over the flaming beard.
"You, stranger, listen to Jarl. His word is mine." Redbeard turned away to attend another officer, and his last words were flung over his shoulder.
"Take my offer or refuse it, stranger. The choice is yours. I will not make it again."
Redbeard disappeared into the tower. Jarl half raised his sword and looked at Blade. "So, Blade? What is it to be?"
There was loud grumbling from the onlookers. One man called out, "Kill him, Jarl. We will all lie and say he refused mercy!"
Another man pointed to the bodies of the three Blade had slain. "Who pays for those?"
Jarl gave them a contemptuous glance. "Quiet, you dogs. You all heard Redbeard. The next man to speak so loses his booty."
The threat had great effect, much more than any to life or limb. They grew silent.
Jarl looked again at Blade. "You will yield?"
From the alcove Sylvo said: "Yield, master. The bargain is a good one. We still have our heads which is more than I expected. And the Drus have a saying while a man breathes he has hope."
Blade glanced at Taleen. "And you, princess?"
There was adoration in the glance she gave him. "As you say, Prince Blade. I will live with you, or die with you. It is your choice."
Blade turned back to Jarl. Their eyes met and held steady for a moment. Then Blade flung the great bronze axe at the other man's feet. "I yield," said Blade, "and hold you to the terms your Redbeard spoke."
Jarl picked up the axe and handed it back to Blade, but not before he had hefted it and swung it a few times. "A marvelously fine weapon," he said as he gave it to Blade. And added, "A pity in a way, Blade. Now we will never know who is master between us two."
Blade received Aesculp back with a curt nod. Utter weariness was closing on him and he struggled to keep it secret.
"And yet," Jarl said, "who can know? Perhaps another time, Blade? But Thunor will decide that, not us."
Blade managed a smile. "I would have quarters for myself and my companions, Jarl,. Food and drink and fresh clothing. Water for bathing, for we are all filthy. Tell your Redbeard that I will attend him whenever he is ready."
Again Jarl's smile was enigmatic. "That will not be until dark, I think. Our chief has duties to attend to a division of booty, and the raping and punishment of the whore queen. But tonight at the great victory feast you will meet Redbeard, never doubt it. Now come with me." Jarl bowed slightly, standing aside, as Blade, Taleen and Sylvo filed through the hostile and hard-eyed ranks of the sea raiders.