Sword Brothers by Jerry Autieri

yellow teeth, yellow eyes, and a snarl that made a rabid wolf seem tame. Father Lambert had about fifteen followers lined up behind him, mostly men but some women and children, all in simple clothing, arranging rocks in a wide rectangle to mark the location of the proposed church. Watching them listlessly were a handful of Gunnar's hirdmen, who gave him pleading looks.
    "It's about time someone in authority showed up," Father Lambert said. Gunnar had only met him once, but his voice was pitched too high for a man and dripped with a whinny sarcasm that made Gunnar's hand itch to strike him. He stared up at Gunnar on his horse, undaunted by the animal.
    "What's going on here?" He looked to Hrothgar, whose red face relaxed upon seeing him.
    "Jarl Gunnar, this fool wants to stick his church in the center of my pasture."
    "So I see," Gunnar stroked his beard as if in careful thought. "How much did he pay you for it? Such a prime field must have cost the good priest a fortune."
    "The old farmer will be compensated for the land. But I have a decree from Bishop Burchard to begin immediate construction of a church to serve our flock in these lands." Father Lambert's cheeks jiggled as he spoke, and Gunnar wanted to kick him in the face. It was an impulse he resisted, but he detested Christian priests, and this one was more odious than most.
    "Impressive. The compensation doesn't sound very specific. You seemed to have staked out a wide patch of land, a very specific gain, and offered Hrothgar nothing better than a dream of some future reward. Before I agree to this church of yours, I'd like to know what exactly you are paying for the land and when."
    Father Lambert's eyes drew to slits and he cocked his head at Gunnar as if debating whether to throw a punch. His followers put down their rocks and gathered closer. Hrothgar folded his arms in victory. "That's right, priest. How much gold are you offering for my land?"
    "Did you not hear who has authorized this?" Father Lambert's voice was a low threat. "Bishop Burchard's decree is all I require to begin construction of my church. You have the Church's promise to compensate Hrothgar for his land. That is enough."
    "It's not enough for me," Gunnar said. Bekan glanced at him, probably wondering when he would erupt into violence. Gunnar did not look at him, but stared down at the priest from the horse. "I will summon my hirdmen to put a stop to this. You are on my land and abide by my laws."
    "You impetuous boy," Father Lambert said. "This land is held by Hrolf the Strider, and he his beholden to King Charles. He has demanded the Church rebuild its presence where your kind banished it. Bishop Burchard has his orders from the king, and an even mightier power in Jesus Christ!"
    Gunnar had done all he could to dam the tide of anger, and invoking the name of the Christian god to steal his property broke it wide open.
    "I'll have your fucking arrogant head on a spear!" His tore his sword from its sheath as he yelled. Father Lambert's eyes went from slitted defiance to wide-open terror, and he sprang back. "This is my land, and if you want to steal it, then bring an army instead of old men and women."
    The hirdmen drew their swords and a woman screamed. Father Lambert scampered away, then fell on his back.
    In the same moment, Fate revealed its designs.
    Gunnar's supposedly docile horse shrieked at the sudden violence and reared. Out of reflex, Gunnar dropped his sword and seized the reins with his one hand. Someone howled and everyone began shouting. The spooked horse bolted and Gunnar could do nothing but hold onto its neck while it charged away. Had it been any other man in another situation, Gunnar would have balled up in laughter, but now his rage turned to fear as the animal dashed back up the slope. Realizing this beast was not going to calm down, he had no choice but to leap from it. He closed his eyes and threw himself clear into a patch of clover. Despite the soft appearance, he landed on