Scramasax

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by

Quercus

55 Baker Street

7th Floor, South Block

London

W1U 8EW

Text copyright © Kevin Crossley-Holland, 2012 Map copyright © Hemesh Alles, 2012

The moral right of Kevin Crossley-Holland to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

A CIP catalogue reference for this book is available from the British Library

eBook ISBN 978 1 78087 702 0

Print ISBN 978 1 84724 940 1

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

You can find this and many other great books at:
www.quercusbooks.co.uk

Children's books by the same author

FICTION
The Arthur Trilogy:
The Seeing Stone
At the Crossing-Places
King of the Middle March

The Viking Sagas:
Bracelet of Bones
Scramasax
Gatty's Tale
Short!
Short Too!
Storm
Waterslain Angels

MYTH, LEGEND AND FOLK-TALE
Tales from the Old World
The Old Stories: Folk Tales from
East Anglia and the Fen Country
The Magic Lands: Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland
Outsiders
Viking! Myths of Gods and Monsters

PICTURE BOOKS
Beowolf
(illustrated by Charles Keeping)
The Ugly Duckling
(illustrated by Meilo So)

INFORMATION
King Arthur's World

for
Geoffrey Findlay
with gratitude

Market stallholders in Miklagard

Palace courtiers

Maria's servants

Byzantine bishops

Varangian guards (including Bolverk, Egil, Gissur, Gorm, Karly, Turgeis and Ulf)

Greek cooks

Saracen pirates

Townspeople in Sicily

Sicilian mountain men, women and children

Abu Touati's companions

Lady Nameless's servants

T
he man in the scarlet cloak planted himself in the middle of the aisle. He took not the least notice of the tide of people swarming all around him.

‘Solva!' he bellowed. ‘Solva! Where are you?'

The big man looked over his left shoulder. Over his right, into the smoky stall of the silversmith. He screwed up his eyes and opened them wide.

‘Solva! Solveig!'

In their wicker cages, the long-tailed parakeets screamed; little children clung to their mothers' grubby skirts; old men, half deaf, hunched their shoulders and waited for the ground to open under them.

Then the man growled like a wild boar at bay. He whirled round, his scarlet cloak ballooned and the porter right behind him tripped and spilt his whole basket of oranges.

The traders closed ranks. Shoulder to shoulder, they jam-packed the narrow aisle. No way forward. No way back.

‘Out of the way!' the big man yelled.

‘You clumsy.'

‘You pay.'

‘Oaf!'

‘Viking.'

All around him the man heard insults he did and did
not understand. He reached inside his cloak and grasped the gilded hilt of his sabre. He drew it.

‘Let me pass,' he demanded. Then he stooped and picked up an orange, tossed it into the air, and with a flick of his curved blade sliced it in half.

The waters opened. The tide of traders and townspeople made way and, ignoring all the jeering in his wake, the Viking advanced, long-legged and limping. Peering into each of the stalls. Now and then he stopped and anxiously called, ‘Solveig! Solveig!' Now and then he muttered, ‘Enemies … enemies. You never know where enemies may be lurking.'

At the end of the aisle, the Viking glanced over his shoulder again, and then sheathed his sabre. And when he turned back, there she was! There was Solveig, steadfast, smiling, as if she had simply been waiting for him.