Einarr and Jorir stood, back to back, as the three remaining wolflings at the boatyard came warily forward. He would be a prime target, he knew, but whether his uncle would want him alive or dead was an open question. It seemed, though, that the two of them had some reputation already.
Some unspoken word seemed to pass among the wolflings: all at the same moment, they broke for the cover of the trees. Einarr turned to race after them, but then something else caught his eye.
Smoke. There was still at least one of the raiders around, trying again to set a blaze. Einarr growled. “Jorir! Stay on them. I’ll search out the rat.”
Jorir gave a grunt of acknowledgement even as he jogged off into the forest. With a shake of his head, Einarr took a deep sniff of the morning air. The smoke was coming, it seemed…
View original post 840 more words
idahodimple 