Lovable Viking's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

They made port at dusk. Marcus meant to hold his talk on the beach, with every man sitting in the sand and no axes in reach. He counted heads by the moored longship and came up one short. Franklin's oar bench was empty. His shield was gone from its peg on the rail. Benjamin stood at the gangplank, blond beard wet with sea spray, and would not look at Marcus. Benjamin had watched his boots on the beach when Franklin dared Marcus to turn his back. He was doing it again now. "Where," Marcus said. "Inland. There's a farmstead over the ridge." Benjamin swallowed. "He said he wanted to see if the rule was real or just your fists. He took two men." "And you stayed." "I stayed." Benjamin opened his hand. A silver coin lay in his palm, bright and worn thin at the edge. "He dropped this going up the sand. I marked the trail. He didn't cover it." Marcus took the coin. Franklin had not hidden his path. He wanted Marcus to follow. Every man on that deck was watching to see whether Marcus went, and how he came back. He lifted a lantern off its hook and lit it. Then he pulled a coil of heavy iron chain from the ship's stores and hung it over his shoulder. The links dragged loud across the planks. Nobody spoke. "Come," he told Benjamin. "You'll see it done." They climbed the ridge fast. The lantern lit hoofmarks and a second dropped coin in the grass. Marcus heard the farmstead before he saw it. A woman was shouting. A dog barked itself hoarse. Franklin stood in the yard with his axe low. Two crewmen held the farmer against a wall. The woman had her back to a doorway with two children behind her skirts. Franklin had not swung yet. He was waiting, the way a man waits to be caught. "You came," Franklin said, and grinned into his red beard. "So it's still just you, then." Marcus set the lantern down. He walked past Franklin, past the axe, and stopped in front of the woman. He put his back to Franklin's blade and stood there. The yard went quiet. The two crewmen let the farmer go. "Swing," Marcus said. "You wanted my back turned. There it is." Franklin's grip shifted twice on the haft. He did not swing. He lowered the axe and looked at the two crewmen, who were already backing toward the gate, and at Benjamin holding the lantern like a witness. Marcus dropped the chain in the dirt at Franklin's feet. "Carry it to the ship. Wear it at the oar until I say otherwise. The crew will see that." Franklin picked up the chain. He carried it down the ridge without a word, and every man in the yard saw him do it. But Marcus had won the yard by standing in front of a blade, not by talking. He had proved the rule with his own body. Now nine other men knew exactly what it cost him to prove it, and the talk he had promised had not happened at all.