My Heroes Have Always Been Hitmen (Humorous Romantic Shorts) (Greatest Hits Mysteries) (14 page)
Read My Heroes Have Always Been Hitmen (Humorous Romantic Shorts) (Greatest Hits Mysteries) Online
Authors: Leslie Langtry
This was Sigurd? Sigurd the Mighty? The man before us was very short. I was considered tall in my family, but Sigurd barely came up to my shoulder. He had a full head of curly dark hair that rose up from his forehead and swooped backwards. Tiny, sharp eyes framed a tiny nose and thin lips. But the worst thing was his voice.
He sounded like a squirrel who'd been kicked in the balls.
"
Where are your men?" Maelbrigte shouted.
"
They are coming," Sigurd cried with a strange giggle. His thin, reedy voice was ridiculous. And he giggled. I should've killed him right then and there for that alone. "You can still back out and turn over Moray to me!" The Viking spread his feet and assumed a haughty pose intended to intimidate. Instead, it gave the impression of a cricket throwing a tantrum. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Iona doubled over with laughter. For a moment I thought of joining her.
Maelbrigte shook his head.
"You'll have your fight, Viking."
The sound of hoof beats echoed down the road
, and the magnate's men formed a line, gripping their spears, rakes, and hoes. I wondered why the sound of forty horses didn't sound more intimidating. It should have.
Then I saw it. A line of horsemen on small horses. Very small horses. Was this a joke? First a dwarf Viking and now dwarf ponies? I watched as the horsemen came in and lined up opposite us. There was something else. The horses seemed to enter the field and move into a line without turning their backs on us. Why did they do that?
The Vikings on little ponyback didn't dismount. Were they going to make an attempt at a cavalry charge, I wondered? I looked up and down the line. Something else wasn't right. I rubbed my eyes. What was it?
"
Are you going to fight on yer horses?" Maelbrigte shouted. "That wasn't the agreement."
And that
's when I saw it. I knew what was wrong. I pushed my way through the other men to get to the magnate.
"
Yer can't change things this way," Maelbrigte continued. I grabbed his arm, and he shrugged it off, intent on yelling at the tiny Viking. "A deal's a deal, Sigurd!"
"
Maelbrigte!" I hissed into his ear.
The man turned his brown eye on me. Was I imagining it or were the two teeth sticking out further than before?
"What?" he snarled.
I pointed at the riders on ponies.
"Look!"
The
magnate followed my finger, and his eyes widened when he saw what I saw. Each rider seemed to have an extra pair of legs. There were two men on each horse. Sigurd the Mighty had cheated. He'd brought eighty men to a forty-man fight.
"
You need to say something to your men!" I urged as the Vikings began to get off their little horses now. Each rider seemed to double now, and Maelbrigte's men realized that they were outnumbered.
"
Give them a speech—inspire them!" I begged. The magnate needed to instill confidence in his men before it was lost.
Maelbrigte turned to his men and began to shout,
"I expect each one of you to slay two men today!" And that was it. No,
Let's get rid of these Viking bastards once and for all,
or even an,
I
know you can do it!
I looked at our troops. They were stunned. Horrified. Yup. We were going to lose.
With a war cry that can only be described as the sound a chicken makes when you step on it, Sigurd the Mighty unleashed his eighty strong Viking force on Maelbrigte's farmers.
I fought alongside them, trying to help them when I could, but it was too much. The Vikings cut them down like weeds. It should be noted that I killed way more than my allotted two men. But it was over before it began. The field was full of bloody
body parts. Only myself and a couple of others were still standing when Sigurd called an end to the fighting.
To say I was disappointed was an understatement. Maelbrigte the Magnate and most of the men of the village were now dead. Sigurd the Mighty was still alive. And I hadn
't finished the job.
Iona
appeared beside me. "That didn't turn out well," she said.
"
Where's Taran?" I asked.
My sister shook her head.
"He showed up, but I sent him back to the tavern for water and food for the survivors. He didn't make it back in time." She scratched her nose. "Not that I thought he would…"
Bragging, know-it-all kid sister. How did she do it?
We watched as Sigurd walked over to the corpse of Maelbrigte the Magnate and cut off his head. Being that he was a small man, it took him overly long to do this. I wondered if the other Vikings made fun of him.
Sigurd spotted
Iona and tossed her Maelbrigte's head. "Tie that onto my saddle, boy!" he squeaked. "I'm taking home a trophy."
I put my arm out to stop her, but my sister just shook her head and carried the
magnate's head away.
"
The rest of you," the Viking earl tittered, "go back to your fields. Tend my crops and prepare for taxation in the spring." Sigurd giggled insanely, reminding me somewhat of a deranged leprechaun.
Iona
joined me, her hands and tunic covered in blood. She smelled faintly of feces. But this field was filled with horrible sights and smells. It would take several baths to wash it all off. We watched in silence as Sigurd attempted three times to climb on his horse. Finally, one of the other Vikings tossed him into the saddle. He swung his leg over, and I saw that it was right next to Maelbrigte's head. The empty eyes stared straight ahead. The brown eye didn't swivel. Not even once. And that made me a little sad.
The other Vikings mounted their tiny ponies and rode off. Then the women of the village came to gather the bodies of those who
'd died.
"
We need to go after them," I said to Iona. "I'll have to sneak into his camp at night and slit his throat."
Iona
smiled and shook her head. "No. You won't. He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."
"
What are you talking about?" I asked.
My sister just grinned and said,
"You'll see."
We followed the Vikings for
two days, keeping to the forest so we wouldn't be discovered. On the third day, I noticed that the Vikings were not uprooting camp. They remained at the crook of a small river for another two days.
Iona
and I lived off the loaves of bread and the cheese she'd packed from the village. We sheltered in an old cave we'd found, waiting for the Vikings to move on to the coast. But that didn't happen.
"
See?" Iona said with a grin. "I told you." She was wrapped in her cloak, trying to stave off the early evening's clammy chill.
"
I don't see anything," I growled. The cold and damp were wearing on me, as was the complete lack of activity. What was happening?
"
Oh, go see for yourself since you can't sit still." Iona rolled her eyes, and I stood up and made my way out of the cave.
"
You stay here," I ordered. For once, she didn't argue.
I moved carefully through the trees, keeping to whatever foliage I could find for cover.
There wasn't much. Sticks cracked beneath my feet, and leaves crunched however I moved. My short sword was at my side, and I had a knife in my boot. This was it. I was going to kill Sigurd so we could go home.
Twilight had fallen like a blanket over the
forest as I came upon the farthest edge of the camp. Two men were digging a deep hole in the frozen ground. From their swearing, I could see they were not happy to be doing so.
"
Why don't we just take him to the coast and do a proper burial at sea?" one of the Vikings asked.
Viking number two shook his head.
"He died of the fever. We can't risk catching it ourselves. Olin says burial, so we are doing a burial."
Someone died of fever? That would explain the camp staying put. Maybe the fever would wipe them all out
, and I wouldn't have to kill Sigurd.
"
It's weird, isn't it?" Viking number one said. "It's like the magnate got his revenge."
What were they talking about? Who did Maelbrigte get revenge on? He was nothing more than a head.
"We're to bury the head too," Viking number two said. "Just in case."
The first Viking shuddered.
"Sigurd was a fool. Riding with Maelbrigte the Tusk's head against his leg like that. The Tusk got him alright!"
The two men laughed
, and I moved a bit closer. They weren't making any sense. How did The Tusk get Sigurd?
"
It's a curse! It has to be!" Viking two said. "Maelbrigte biting Sigurd's leg like that and the wound getting pus so fast! We need to bury them both and get out of here!"
Back in the cave,
Iona smiled as I walked in.
"
He's dead, isn't he?" she asked with an impressive level of sarcasm.
"
Yes. How did you do it?" I asked. My sister already knew she was right. She always was. There was no point in ignoring it.
"
Horse shit," Iona said. "From those stupid little ponies. After I tied the magnate's head on the saddle so his teeth would rub on the Viking's leg, I smeared a little horse shit on them. I figured that would work."
"
It did," I said as I stood and lifted her to her feet. "And now we can go home."
Iona
became nearly impossible to live with. She didn't tell the others in the family that she was actually the one who took out Sigurd the Mighty. But she made it clear she could at any time—especially when she wanted something. I pleaded with Mother to marry her off quickly, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. Mom liked having her around.
That winter was a hard one. A thick blanket of snow made it impossible to leave the castle.
Uncle Rome had a heart attack when we tried to extricate him from the privy. It was a relief, really. And now there was more food for us. Mother took his place on the Council.
On a cold, despondent day, I entered my room to find
Iona puzzling over my chess set. After pretending she really didn't care for a few days, she finally allowed me to teach her the game. We've been playing all winter long.
And she wins every
damn time.
* * *
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About Leslie Langtry
Leslie Langtry is the author of the Greatest Hits Mysteries,
The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations
, and several books she hasn't finished yet, because she's very lazy. Leslie loves puppies and cake (but she will not share her cake with puppies) and lives with her family and assorted animals in the Midwest.
To learn more about Leslie Langtry, visit her online at
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BOOKS BY LESLIE LANGTRY
Greatest Hits Mysteries:
'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy
My Heroes Have Always Been Hitmen
Four Killing Birds (a holiday short story)
Other works:
The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations
Enjoyed this Greatest Hits Mystery? Check out these other humorous, romantic mysteries from
Gemma Halliday Publishing
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