Blood Will Follow by Snorri Kristjansson Page A

tall, dressed in rough wool, but he carried himself like a soldier; he looked like the kind of man you’d put by something to guard it. He was leaning on a big walking staff. A huge mastiff sat next to him, long pink tongue lolling out in stark contrast to its white coat.
    “Hail,” Ulfar shouted back.
    “I thought I’d let you know of us,” the old man said. His voice carried surprisingly well. “You’ve not looked back for quite a while.”
    Ulfar shrugged.
    “Where are you going?” the old man ventured.
    “East,” Ulfar answered.
    “Would you care for company?” the old man said.
    What could it hurt? Numbers weren’t a bad thing on the road. “Sure,” Ulfar said, working hard to muster up some enthusiasm. The man caught up with him quickly, long legs covering the distance with ease. The big dog trotted at his side, glanced at Ulfar once and deemed him uninteresting. “Well met. My name is Gestumblindi,” the man said.
    “Well met. I am Ulfar,” Ulfar replied. “I’ve recently come from—”
    “I know,” the man said. Ulfar tensed up, but Gestumblindi didn’t appear to notice. “You just came through Valle. I gather you made quite an impression.”
    Tension flooded out of him as quickly as it had come, and Ulfar couldn’t help rolling his eyes. The man shot him a conspiratorial wink. “The . . . salt of the earth are sometimes, what can we say, overly protective of their womenfolk,” Gestumblindi added. “And quite ready to believe young, hot-blooded ladies who complain about exciting strangers in small towns. Often a little after the alleged crime.”
    Ulfar couldn’t help but smirk.
    Gestumblindi gestured toward the road, and they started walking.
    “I take it you didn’t believe them, then?” Ulfar said.
    Gestumblindi smiled. There was an easy air about the tall man; something that suggested command. “I had the measure of the two boys who were talking about you, and I’ve seen my share of small towns. So, no. Still—I thought you’d be bigger.”
    “Fuckers,” Ulfar said. “Mind you, I’ve just about been there myself. Gets your blood right up if you think the womenfolk have been wronged.”
    “Sure does,” said Gestumblindi. “If you’re a decent sort.”
    “Yeah,” Ulfar said. “And I suppose they were decent boys . . . in their own way.”
    “The boys, yes.”
    “The girl was a piece of work, though. Bet you all the coin I spent on ale last night that she’ll be making some poor man’s life miserable in a couple of years.”
    “The way those boys looked, I’d say she’s already ahead of you on that one,” Gestumblindi said, and they both grinned. Above them, thick gray clouds had melted into nothing. The sun caressed the curves of the landscape, and fields of wheat stretched away in front of them. Dark blue mountains with white caps rose from the horizon in the north. The world was but a faint line of autumn in a sea of blue.
    The two tall men fell into an easy, mile-eating stride, the dog trotting alongside them, until he suddenly caught wind of something. There was a whimper, a soft-spoken command, and he was off like a bolt into the fields.
    Ulfar watched the big animal go and whistled appreciatively. “He’s quite a beast, that one,” he said.
    “Name’s Geraz. Had him since he fitted in the palm of my hand,” Gestumblindi said. “Love him like my sons—more than my sons, in fact. I have two—the other one, Frec, doesn’t care much for company, so I let him range. He’ll be back tonight. They’re good to have on the road.”
    “I can imagine. But what brings you to this corner of nowhere?” Ulfar eventually ventured.
    “Hm,” the old man said. “What brings me here?” He looked Ulfar up and down. “I’m . . . how shall we say? I am on a mission.”
    “What kind of mission?”
    “I’m searching for something. Or someone, rather. I used to travel quite a lot, seen a lot of places—all of them, pretty much. I had some friends