There came a crash in the underbrush as the great black hound bounded onto the path behind us and stood looking expectantly, his mouth open, tongue lolling. Ylva ran to him and laid a slender hand on his chain collar. "Home, Surt!"
We three raced back to the house to find Karin, fists on hips, as the strangers entered the yard. Odd appeared around the corner of the house, hoe in hand. Surt took one look at the two men, gave a low, warning rumble deep in his throat, broke from Ylva's grasp and ran to Karin's side where he stood growling. I heard Karin say, "Who are you?"
They ignored her and came ahead a few more steps. Surt snarled, hackles raised like knives. "Stand you there," Karin called again, and added something that I did not catch.
The men stopped, and looked around the holding. One of them was fair, the other dark; both were bearded and both tall, well-muscled fighting men. The dark one had a long braid over his shoulder, and the fair one wore his hair close-cropped. They carried spears and had swords on their hips with long knives tucked into their sword-belts. Neither, I noticed, owned a cloak, but one had a leather tunic, and the other a sleeveless siarc. Their tall leather boots were well worn.
"Greetings, good woman," replied the fair-haired stranger at last, turning his eyes lazily toward us as he spoke. "It is a warm day, heya?"
"There is water in the well," Karin said. The chill in her voice more than matched the barbarian's cool arrogance.
The cold-eyed stranger's gaze flicked onto Ylva, and lingered there. "Where is your husband?" he demanded.
"My husband is about his business."
The men exchanged glances. "Where does your husband's business take him?" asked the dark man, speaking for the first time. His voice, unlike his appearance, was pleasant and inviting. "Far?"
"Not far," Karin said. "He is near."
The stranger said something which I did not understand. He smiled reassuringly, taking a slow step closer as he spoke. Odd shifted uneasily, and Surt growled.
Karin's reply was short and defensive, as it seemed to me; I did not know what she said. I moved to stand beside Odd, wishing that Gunnar's watching-trial had been this day rather than yesterday. Karin spoke again-a challenge, I thought.
The fair man made his reply, and I heard the words: "King Harald Bull-Roar," and "a message," and "free men of Skania." Thus, it seemed to me communication of some importance, and I rued my scant knowledge of Danespeak, limited as it was to farm chores.
Karin asked them about this message, I think; her tone was sharply suspicious.
The dark stranger replied. "Gunnar's ears…" I heard him say, then: "We will speak to him now."
"We owe fealty to no lord but Ragnar Yellow Hair," Karin told them flatly.
"Ragnar Yellow Hair," sneered the fair barbarian, "owes fealty to Harald Bull-Roar."
"No doubt," continued his dark companion smoothly, "Yellow Hair himself would tell you the same if he were here. Unfortunately…" He spread his empty hand in a gesture of helplessness; I observed, however, that his right hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword.
"If you refuse to-" I did not know the words, "-Gunnar now," said the other, "it will go ill with you."
"My husband is not here now," Karin declared. "Tell me the message, or wait for his return."
The dark man seemed to consider this. His eyes turned once more to Ylva, standing silent beside me. "We will wait," he decided.
Karin nodded curtly, said something about the well and barn, then turned and walked stiff-backed to the house, summoning Ylva to her as she went. The king's men watched her go; though they said nothing, their silence fairly bristled. Nor did I like the way they looked at Ylva, for I saw menace in their long-lingering stares.
Odd and I returned to our chores. The cows were in the meadow and, with Surt's help, I made quick work of herding them to the cattle enclosure. I finished the milking and poured out a drink for the dog, then took the milk to the house.
I was just entering the yard when I heard voices; they seemed to be arguing. Quickening my pace, I rounded the corner of the house to see Ylva standing before the barn between the two barbarians. The fair-haired one had her by the arm, and she was trying to pull away from him, but he gripped her too tightly. The men were talking to each other, and to Ylva, in a joking way, all smiles and coaxing tones. Ylva, however, seemed to be pleading with them-to release her, I think-and her expression was one of fear.
I placed the milk jar by the door and entered the yard. "Ylva," I called, as if I had been looking for her. "Karin is waiting." I said this as I walked to where they stood. "Go to the house."
Ylva turned at her name, and implored me with her eyes. "I must go," she told the men.
"No," said the fair-haired stranger. "Stay and talk with us."
"Twenty silver pieces," said the dark man, ignoring me. "I will give twenty."
"Twenty!" mocked his companion. "That is more than you-"
