“I don’t have much choice do I?” muttered Finn. “What do you want us to do after we escape?”

  “I have a score to settle,” she replied darkly. “Just get me away from here and I’ll leave you as soon as I’ve got rid of my collar. Do we have a deal?”

  Finn nodded.

  “Good,” said the girl. “Wait here. I’ll come back at sunset when the others are eating. We’ll get your brother then.” And with that, she turned and walked away.

  VIKING LONGHOUSES

  Life in a Viking longhouse was pretty basic. The longhouse itself was made of wood, sometimes with a roof covered in turf. They ranged in size from fifteen to seventy five metres long and were wider in the middle than at the ends so that the curved walls made the houses look a bit like boats.

  To preserve heat there were often no windows, though some had small, hide-covered openings near the roof. This meant that most light came from fires which burned in pits on the earthen floor of the house, or from fish oil lamps. It also meant that the insides of longhouses could get very smoky, though the smoke would drift out eventually through small smoke-holes in the roof.

  Most people slept on benches that lined the walls of the longhouse, probably cushioned by heather and animal skins. Privacy didn’t exist as a lot of people would sleep in the same house: mum, dad, kids, grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins, thralls and in winter the animals slept inside too!

  CHAPTER 3

  By the time the sun set Finn had convinced himself that helping Thorfinna to escape was a good idea. He needed to get Arthur out, and that would only happen with Thorfinna’s help. It also occurred to Finn that having an ally, even if it was just a slave, increased their chances of finding Blood Hunter without getting killed.

  He waited nervously for the girl to come for him but as twilight gave way to almost total darkness, Finn became more and more agitated. He had been waiting in the dark for about an hour by the time he decided that something was wrong. The girl obviously hadn’t told her masters about him, but it didn’t look like she was going to come back either. There was nothing for it – he would have to get Arthur out on his own.

  Finn crept through the trees, straining his ears to hear every strange sound of the forest. A stick snapped up ahead and Finn froze. Something large with four legs and luminous eyes walked across the path in front of him. Telling himself to get a grip, Finn pressed forward trying to ignore the pack of ravenous wolves that his imagination had created. He reached the edge of the trees without incident and gazed over at the settlement. The moon shone brightly and he could see Arthur’s hut quite clearly.

  He could also hear voices coming from the longhouse in the distance. A very faint glow at the top of the longhouse lit up the smoke that must be coming from a fireplace. Other than that there was no light to be seen, and Finn concluded that the doors must be closed for the night.

  Crouching low, Finn scurried across the grass towards the hut. He covered the distance quickly and in no time he was unbolting the door. He opened it carefully and peered inside. He couldn’t see a thing. Cautiously he took a step forward into the pitch black hut.

  Without warning, a fist connected with his chin and he fell to the ground. Somebody jumped on him and grabbed his throat.

  “Arthur,” he choked. “It’s me, Finn!”

  “Finn?”

  “Yes, you maniac! I’m here to get you out!” he gasped.

  Arthur let go of Finn’s throat and stood up. “Well what took you so long?”

  “What?” Finn yelped, rubbing his now very sore neck and starting to heave himself off the floor of the hut. “You started a fight as soon as you got here. You got yourself locked up. And you’re complaining that I’m late? You’re unbelievable. And you hit me!”

  “Well you should have said it was you,” said Arthur unapologetically. “Anyway, you’re here now, and we’re good to go. What’s the plan?”

  Finn looked incredulously at his brother. But knowing that arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere he explained what had happened with Thorfinna. Arthur chuckled. “So you’ve been making friends with girls while I’ve been locked up have you? Very nice.”

  “Shut up Arthur,” said Finn, grateful for the dark as he blushed. “All you’ve done is get yourself caught.”

  “OK, OK,” Arthur went on. “Here’s what I think. Tomorrow morning they’ll come and find I’ve gone. They’ll know somebody must have opened the door for me and they’ll be on guard so any chance we had of finding that sword before the thieves take it will be gone.”

  “So what do we do?” asked Finn.

  “We need to find it tonight before they notice I’m missing.”

  “No way,” said Finn, frowning. “If Hallvard lives in that longhouse then that’s where the sword will be. Along with about twenty people, and it will probably be locked up.”

  Arthur stared at his brother. “How do you know all this stuff?”

  “I just listen when people talk to me – you should try it some time,” Finn replied. “The Professor told us all about Vikings living in longhouses.”

  “Well we still have to try before it’s too late,” said Arthur quickly. “Let’s find a window and see where everything is. Then I’ll creep in after they’ve all gone to sleep.”

  Before Finn could answer, Arthur stepped out of the hut and began jogging noiselessly across the grass towards the longhouse. Muttering under his breath, Finn followed.

  As they approached the longhouse the voices grew louder and they began to make out some of what was being said.

  “… just a boy…”

  “… old enough to be travelling…”

  “… fought with our boys…”

  “Great,” Finn hissed, “They’re arguing about you.”

  “Quiet!” Arthur whispered as they reached the wall of the longhouse. Firewood was piled up along the wall and Arthur carefully climbed up on top of the stack, waving silently at Finn to follow. From there they could see a few thin strips across the top of the wall that could have been covered windows. They were still well out of reach.

  Arthur placed his back against the wall with his legs bent as if sitting on a chair. He pointed at Finn and tapped his shoulders. Reluctantly, Finn stepped forward as Arthur cupped his hands to make a foothold. Finn stepped from Arthur’s hands to his shoulders and stood up, sliding his chest up the wall until his chin was in line with the bottom of one of the strips they had noticed. Sure enough it seemed to be a small window, covered inside by a piece of animal hide. Finn found the cord that held the hide in place and began to untie it.

  “What can you see?” Arthur whispered.

  “Nothing yet,” Finn replied, looking down at his brother crossly. His weight shifted slightly on Arthur’s shoulders and Arthur moved a foot. A piece of firewood clattered noisily down the stack and the voices inside stopped. Finn and Arthur froze.

  “Nothing to fear,” somebody growled. “Thorfinna is half way through moving the wood stack and some of it is loose.”

  Finn let out a quiet sigh of relief and carried on untying the hide as the conversation inside resumed. A corner came loose and Finn pulled it up gently and peered inside the huge building. It was more like a barn than a house. Most of it was one big hall.

  In the middle of the floor was a large open fire that sent sweet-smelling smoke circling around the house and up towards a hole in the roof. All the people in the hall were clustered around the fire and at the front was a circle of fifteen or so tall, strong-looking, bearded men. Right away Finn recognised Hallvard’s huge frame. Behind the men stood Thorfinna and other older men, women and children. Finn had been expecting to see a big family and a few thralls but this group of men clearly represented more than one family.

  “Hallvard called us here to talk but now he does not want to listen,” one was saying. “The matter is simple. The boy is a stranger, he attacked your son Hallvard, and Siggurd’s son also. You must kill him.”

  “In the boy’s defence he fought bravely, only when he was attacked and outnumbered,” said another. Finn recognised him as the old man who had knocked Arthur out in the forest.

  “We would have defeated him in a few more moments Father,” said the boy defensively.

  “Well perhaps we will put that to the test in the morning my son,” Hallvard rumbled. “Siggurd, your son has his first war wound. Be proud.”

  Finn remembered the sword and scanned the hall. He peered though the swirling smoke and at one end he could make out a collection of spears and bows leaning against the wall in a sort of porch. Along each side of the hall were wide benches covered in sheepskins and at the other end he saw a raised platform with a wooden frame and more sheepskins. Hallvard ’s bed, Finn thought.

  “Finn!” Arthur whispered.

  “OK, I’m coming down,” said Finn.

  “Finn, look behind you.” Arthur urged, a note of panic in his voice.

  Finn turned his head and his blood froze. Someone was holding a long spear to Arthur’s throat. The hooded figure spat out a single word.

  “Thieves!”

  VIKING CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

  The Vikings were a proud lot. You had to be seen to be brave. Bravery brought honour. Cowardice brought dishonour.

  So if you snuck up on someone and stole their favourite knife while they weren’t looking, you were a thief and a coward. The person you had stolen from had every right to kill you and would not be punished for it.

  On the other hand if you walked up to them and said “Oi, Eric! Give us that knife!” and then snatched it, they couldn’t kill you because you were not being cowardly.

  The same went for killing people. Creep up on someone you didn’t like and bash them over the head while they were fishing and you were a cowardly murderer.

  Shove them about a bit first and shout in their face before bashing them over the head and you were brave.

  For the cowardly crimes you would be outlawed, which meant you had to go and live in the wilderness and anyone who fancied a bit of hunting could come along and kill you.

  For the to-your-face brave crimes you normally had to pay compensation to the victim or their family.

  Of course, none of this applied to raiding enemies in war. You could sneak up on them and kill them and be still be remembered as a great warrior.

  CHAPTER 4

  The hood slipped back.

  “So the thrall has a little helper,” snarled Olaf. “Hallvard!”

  In seconds the boys found themselves cowering before the furious stares of a large group of fully grown Viking warriors.

  “Down!” Hallvard ordered. Shaking, Finn leapt off Arthur’s shoulders and clattered down onto the wood stack which shook in turn and sent the boys sprawling to the ground.

  “Arm yourselves,” Hallvard growled and moments later each Viking was brandishing a weapon.

  Hallvard snatched Arthur up off the ground and held him in the air by the throat. “How many more of you are there?” he barked.

  “It’s just us sir,” Arthur squeaked.

  “Liars! ” Hallvard bellowed. “You were spying on us, hiding like rats. Who sent you?” The grip on Arthur’s throat tightened and his feet began to kick. Olaf grinned.

  “It’s not what you think,” Finn blurted. “We came to warn you. Raiders are coming – you must defend yourselves.”

  Hallvard dropped Arthur and the boy crumpled onto the damp earth, gasping for air. The huge Viking’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Finn. “And how would you know that?”

  “Blood Hunter!” Finn spluttered.

  Hallvard’s face paled. “What did you just say boy?”

  “Blood Hunter,” Finn repeated desperately, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “We have no chief. Odin is our master. He shows me things – he showed me your sword, Blood Hunter and he showed me the raid that was coming.”

  Hallvard threw back his head and roared with laughter. “So two boys spying in the night are Odin’s messengers? Do you have names?”

  “I’m Finn and that’s my older brother, Arthur.” Finn pointed feebly to where Arthur still lay shaking on the ground.

  “Good. I like to know people’s names if I am going to kill them.”

  “Be careful Hallvard,” said the old man, stepping forward. “A message from Odin should not be ignored.”

  “Ragnar, do you really think that these two runts would be the messengers that Odin chooses?”

  “You lose nothing by keeping them alive,” Ragnar replied, his face deadly serious.

  “What?” Olaf snorted. “They attacked us and then you caught them spying.”

  “Two of you attacked him,” said Ragnar. “And he had the better of both of you until I came along.”

  “Father, may I…” began Brand.

  “Enough!” Hallvard barked.

  “Father, please,” Brand insisted. “Ragnar is right. When he fought it was in defence – I don’t believe he wanted to fight.”

  “How can you say that?” Olaf whined, putting a hand to where the arrow had pierced him earlier.

  “Be quiet Olaf,” said Brand. “He attacked because you tried to punch him. And you missed.”

  “They are spies!” cried Olaf.

  “Enough!” Hallvard boomed. “My mind is made up. I do not believe that these boys are messengers from Odin. But as Ragnar says it costs us nothing to keep them alive for a few days. If there is no raid then the boys are lying and if there is a raid they are probably spies for the enemy, in which case they will be useful to us. We will know soon enough.”

  Another of the men spoke up. “Hallvard, if raiders are coming we must defend our families.” The others murmured their agreement.

  “Quite so,” said Hallvard. “Each man must go to his farm and prepare to defend it. If any of us is attacked by more than three men they must sound the signal and all others will come to his aid.”

  “What about the boys?” asked Ragnar.

  “Tie them to the tree,” Hallvard replied curtly. “Odin will protect them if they speak the truth. The rest of you, please return to your farms. And fear not, we will defend one another.”

  Most of the men began to hurry away while Hallvard returned to the longhouse. Ragnar and Brand used spears to shepherd the boys towards a single tree in the middle of the field, where Brand pulled Arthur’s arms roughly behind his back and tied them together. He then did the same to Finn. When he had finished he pushed both boys against the tree and looped each rope around the trunk tightly.

  It was clear that there was little to be gained from fighting and neither boy said a word until Brand asked, “So did Odin tell you this would happen?”

  “He never really says much about the danger we’ll be in,” Finn replied glumly.

  Ragnar chuckled. “Well you have a dangerous night ahead of you boys. You will need Odin’s protection from the bears and wolves tonight, not to mention from Hallvard in the morning.” With that he beckoned to Brand and the pair hurried back to the longhouse.

  Arthur pulled forward with one arm, tugging Finn tighter against the tree.

  “Stop it, you’re hurting me!” Finn croaked.

  “Boohoo,” said Arthur. “We have to find a way of getting loose.”

  “Well if you had just listened to me we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “If I’d listened to you we wouldn’t be anywhere,” said Arthur. “We had to look for Blood Hunter. And why did you tell Hallvard that we knew about his sword?”

  “I had to say something,” said Finn, outraged. “He was going to kill us!”

  But Arthur had not finished. “I can’t believe you said we were here because Odin told us there would be a raid… Who is Odin anyway?”

  “He’s one of their Gods – again, you should try that ‘listening to people’ thing we talked about earlier. And I didn’t hear any better ideas from you,” Finn snapped. “At least we’re still alive.”

  “True,” said Arthur. “For now. But not for much longer if we stay tied to this tree. Come on, let’s try and rub the rope against the tree and see if we can cut through it.”

  The boys pulled and tugged, but the only effects were rope burns and even worse tempers. They gave up. For a while neither of them spoke. Then Arthur thought of something.

  “Hey, there’s one good thing. At least now Hallvard is on guard against the raiders.”

  “How does that help us?” Finn wondered.

  “Back at The Hall of Heroes Hallvard’s ghost said his whole family was killed in the night because they weren’t ready. Now they’re ready, aren’t they?” Arthur tugged at the rope again. “Maybe now he won’t lose his sword or be killed. This could be easier than we thought!”

  “Well we won’t know until the raid happens,” said Finn. “And I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy being tied to a tree when a bunch of Viking raiders turn up planning to kill everyone…”

  The idea hung heavily in the air.

  “Let’s try the ropes again,” Arthur urged.

  They sawed rope against bark. They twisted their hands trying to reach the knots. They squeezed fingers together and tried to slip their hands out of the bonds. All to no avail. Eventually they stopped, exhausted and painfully bruised, their heads lolling forward. Time passed slowly. As the heat from their exertions faded, both boys began to shiver and strange noises from the forest began to fill the air. Neither had anything to say to cheer the other up and it seemed to both that their situation could not be much worse.

  Finn’s mind wandered back to the Professor and the Hall of Heroes. What do we do now? he silently implored.

  And then, from somewhere beyond the longhouse, they heard the distant blast of a horn.

  Arthur’s head snapped up. “What was that?”

  They heard shouts at the longhouse.

  “Hallvard told the men to signal if they were attacked,” said Finn.

 

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