SIXTEEN
Another mug of ale, Reidar judged, and he'd have well and truly drowned out the pain in his arm. Today he'd met his first berserker, an experience he didn't want to repeat. The madman had run at him, screaming, then buried his axe so deep in Reidar's shield he'd cleaved the buckler in two, nearly breaking Reidar's arm in the process. Reidar's answering blow had sliced deep into the berserker's shoulder, at the base of his neck. The man had fallen to his knees, gurgling, before he died a noisy death at Reidar's feet. Reidar had only been dimly aware of it at the time, of course, because he'd had another foe to face, but now the battle was over, the man was once again on his mind.
The berserker had claimed to be the bastard son of either his father or his grandfather, Reidar wasn'
