Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [75]
But luck had turned on him.
His plans should have worked! Horg couldn’t understand how it had all gone awry. First his meddling bitch of a wife had discovered he no longer had the Vektan Torque. He’d dealt with her. He’d seen the fear in her eyes when he’d threatened to tell the people that her beloved gods were dead. She would never dare betray him.
Just as he thought he was safe, now this. What would happen to him if the Torgun survived the battle? They would be puzzled that their plea for aid had been ignored. Their first thought would be that the ogres had already attacked and defeated the Heudjun. They would sail over to investigate and find the Heudjun squatting comfortably over their cook fires.
That was always presuming they didn’t know the ogres had taken the Vektan Torque. If they did . . .
Horg broke out in a cold sweat and began to feverishly calculate how fast the Torgun could reach Vindraholm. The day was fine. The sea was calm. The battle had taken place at dawn. . . .
He sent men to the shore with orders to keep watch. He filled a mug with cider and paced his lodging, waiting for news.
The day passed. Night fell. No ships were sighted, and Horg’s hopes revived. The Torgun must have been slaughtered. Otherwise they would have been here by now, howling with rage and threatening to rip off his head.
Horg was in such good spirits that he summoned his latest concubine to come to him, rather than sneak off to meet her. He was Chief of Chiefs. He could have any woman he wanted. Let Draya come home to find him taking his pleasure. He’d be glad to let her watch. She would see for herself that some women enjoyed being in the arms of a strong, powerful man such as himself.
He drank more cider and more after that.
CHAPTER
2
The Torgun were eager to confront Horg, but even the enraged Skylan realized that they could not immediately leap into their ships and sail off to what might be war with their fellow clansmen. The Torgun owed a debt to their dead, whose souls were waiting, impatient to commence their journey to join Torval in the Hall of Heroes. In addition to honoring the dead, the Torgun had to make repairs to their dragonship. Norgaard meant to arrive on his clansmen’s shores in full dignity and might.
The number of dead was surprisingly few. Most had died in the initial clash, when the ogres had crashed headlong into the Torgun shield-wall and left it in shambles. Fighting one on one, warrior to warrior, the Torgun had discovered, like Skylan, that ogres were relatively unskilled with their weapons. Bjorn had survived with only a cracked head.
But it was the Dragon Kahg who had saved the day. The Torgun honored the dragon and sang songs in praise of him.
The Dragon Kahg generally disliked such displays, and he would ordinarily have left immediately after the battle. He felt some small remorse for having initially ignored the Bone Priestess’s desperate prayers, however, and the dragon deigned to graciously receive the Torgun’s homage. He did not stay long, for he had to report the disastrous loss of the Vektan Torque to the dragon elders. Kahg planned to return that night. He intended on being present when the Torgun confronted Horg. The dragon was keenly interested to hear what Horg had to say for himself.
The Torgun reverently carried the bodies of their dead to the beach. Warriors who had died in battle were placed in boats with their weapons, their armor, and their shields, along with food and ale to sustain them through the long journey. The boats would then be set ablaze, the bodies cremated.
The women had already started to come down from the hiding places in the hills, some