He was looking for the path that would end in the defeat of the Norwegians as well as the final humiliation of Magnus Magnusson. Asbjorn’s mind began to follow the trail of the winding beast. Of course Magnus would be dragged into this thing. Tell him to keep his mouth shut and listen. He turned away, stared into the fire, as he often did when deep in thought. They are either very dumb, or are playing at some game.” “They arrive here with stolen goods, attack the port reeve, act as if they do not know Dubh-linn is a Danish longphort. He did not look like he had just survived a brutal attack, so Asbjorn hurried the conversation along. Orm ran his eyes up and down Asbjorn’s person. Danish trade goods, and no explanation of where they came from.” “I managed to inspect their cargo, before I was attacked. I don’t think they realized things have changed here.” There was not a day since Orm had taken Dubh-linn from the Norwegians that he did not expect them to arrive in force and take it back. Rumors had been floating in for some time of a fleet assembling under Olaf the White. Asbjorn knew that this news would strike home. “Norwegians?” Orm frowned, wrinkled his brow. “That longship, it came in at sundown? They are Norwegians.” If so, he would not be happy for the interruption. Asbjorn wondered if he had been rutting with his slave girl. Orm was adjusting his tunic as he crossed the room, his bare legs and feet white in the dim light. The main room of Orm’s house was lit with a single candle and the glow of embers in the fireplace. He was about to knock again when Orm called for him to enter. He paused, let his breath come back, then crossed to Orm’s door and knocked. He hurried up to the fortress, passed by the guards at the gate without even acknowledging them, hurried across the inner yard. Orm would find out about them one way or another, and if it was from someone other than Asbjorn, then Orm would think his port reeve either conniving or incompetent. Could he derive some benefit from keeping them a secret? His mind followed along that path.
#Danish longphort full
He thought of those Norwegians, stupid sons of bitches, sailing right into a Danish longphort with a hold full of plundered Danish goods. His thoughts followed along each of the paths until he could see where it led to danger, to opportunity, to nowhere. He stopped, gasped, cradled his aching finger in his left hand.Īsbjorn envisioned problems as if they were one of those intricate carvings beloved of Norse artists - long, snake-like creatures all tangled around one another. Sbjorn the Fat ran up the plank road until his heaving breath would not allow him to run a foot more. We have trouble, and now I’ve made it worse. “Where are we going, Thorgrim?” Sigurd Sow ventured. “The rest of you keep a bright watch while we’re gone.” And you five.” With a sweep of his arm he indicated half the men left on board. “Sigurd Sow,” Thorgrim called as he walked forward again. But even without it, they were in a precarious situation. The dream had told him not to bring it to Dubh-linn and now he saw why. Danes and Norwegians often fought side by side, but just as often they fought one another, in the same way that the English and the Irish were generally so busy fighting amongst themselves that they had nothing left to fight off the Norsemen.
He could hear the sound of the revelry, like a soft land breeze blowing down to the river.ĭanish? Dubh-Linn is Danish now? How could that have happened?
#Danish longphort windows
There were lights burning here and there, and the windows of the mead hall glowed from the fire and lanterns inside. He leaned against the sweeping sternpost and looked up the rise at the longphort of Dubh-linn. He could still see that offensive fat finger wagging at him. He knew that he had made a grave error, but he had been unable to fight the spirits that possessed him. The black mood didn’t strip him of his senses, at least not after the blind fury had passed. Thorgrim struggled against the men who held him but they knew better than to let go, even if it meant a thrashing after the port reeve was gone.Īsbjorn hurried off and when he was lost in the dark Thorgrim shook off the men and stamped aft.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” Asbjorn said as he backed off the ship, his tone a threat.
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