The Red Oath

by Jerry Autieri

  Yngvar had no words. What purpose was there to worshiping a god that would not offer aid when needed? However, Alasdair nodded solemnly with the captain and his aide.

  Their impromptu meeting broke up with the arrival of the scouts sent to investigate the smaller force Yngvar suspected was Prince Kalim’s. At the same time, watchmen on the walls called down to Alexius that the Arabs had sent their emissaries.

  “You should hide our presence from the Arabs,” Yngvar said. “There is no need for me to attend that parley, especially if it is meaningless.”

  “It will be all empty talk,” Alexius said. “We will die here. You get the scout’s report. I will arrange men to meet the Arabs. We will have to shout from the walls, for I won’t open that gate to an Arab under any circumstances. Seems like people have been walking through these walls as if they don’t exist, what with Arab assassins and Norse raiders.”

  He gave Yngvar a meaningful look. He had not forgotten their discussion. But he did not pursue it as he turned away. A problem for another time, Yngvar thought.

  They met the scout at the gate. The portcullis had been raised only high enough to allow the man to slip beneath. The doors had been cracked wide enough to fit his body. Everything crashed back into place with an echo of finality.

  The scout was garbed in greens and browns and high leather booths. Were it not for his speech, he could have been taken for a Norseman. He searched past Yngvar, probably expecting the commander. But Yngvar stepped in front of the scout.

  “What did you find?”

  The scout looked to him, then straightened up.

  “Sir, I should report to Captain Alexius.

  “Report to him later,” Yngvar said. “He’s busy. I need to know if Prince Kalim was with that army.”

  “Sir, yes, he was present. I did not see him myself, sir. But he had camped in a grand tent and four large men guarded it. It is his banner that flies over the camp.”

  The scout looked aside as if unsure of what he should say next. Alasdair drew closer to the scout and pressed him.

  “You’ve something else to say. But you don’t want to report it to us.”

  “Sir, I think Captain Alexius needs to hear this.”

  Alasdair pushed the scout back, his face red with frustration. He began to curse in Norse, lacking the same vocabulary in Greek. Yngvar calmed his friend’s uncharacteristic outburst, gently pulling him back. Then he addressed the scout.

  “I’m not telling you to hide anything from Alexius. You will report to him. But there is no time to delay with any news. So out with it.”

  “I discovered the prince’s own scouts. I thought I would be killed, but instead they invited me to the camp. Well, invited at the tip of a spear, sir. I swear I did not go willingly.”

  Yngvar waved the scout through his apology. “What was discussed. Hurry!”

  The scout licked his lips. “Prince Kalim wants to meet with you.”

  “What?” Yngvar blinked then looked to Alasdair whose red face showed the same surprise Yngvar felt.

  “Sir, I did not speak directly with the prince. But his servants told me he is not here as part of the attack. Those are his brother’s troops. Sir, he wants to ally with us against them.”

  Yngvar’s face felt numb. Words crashed about his thoughts, none of them able to form coherence and escape his gaping mouth. The scout seemed to shrink beneath him. Alasdair instead cleared his throat.

  “Prince Kalim wishes to form an alliance with us? With our people or all the soldiers of this fortress?”

  “He was not clear. Sir, this is why Captain Alexius needs to be informed. It is important news.”

  “It is,” Yngvar said, aware that his voice sounded distant. He looked into his memories. His vision was filled with the darkness of the prince’s cells and his ears heard the pitiful echoes of his long-dead crew raging in the blackness.

  “Therefore,” the scout said, again trying to advance past Yngvar. “I must present myself to the captain.”

  “There is more,” Yngvar said, refocusing on the scout and barring his passage. “Kalim would not just leave it at that. Where and when do we meet him?”

  The scout glanced at the walls. Without looking back, Yngvar knew Alexius had mounted to the top to hear the Arabs’ surrender terms.

  “The prince has given his word of peace. He would meet with just one of you. You personally, sir.”

  “It’s a fucking trap,” Yngvar said. “I will not meet him.”

  “He is willing to meet you at a place of your choosing, sir. He will come alone with only his translator. He says you both share a common enemy and should work together against them. I am to leave word with his scouts, who are waiting at the tree line.”

  Yngvar gritted his teeth. His most hated enemy wished to ally with him. How could such an alliance ever succeed? Even if it did, the prince surely would have set a trap for Yngvar at its conclusion.

  “Make your report,” Yngvar said at last, pointing toward the wall behind him. “Is this all? You were released to send this message with no other conditions.”

  “Yes, sir. Kalim assured me of his sincerity. He also said we would resume our fight once his brother was driven from the field.”

  Stepping aside, the scout lowered his head then raced past Yngvar.

  “Lord, what does this mean?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “An alliance with Kalim is like trying to slip into bed with a sleeping viper. Even if it succeeds I will eventually end up with a fatal bite. Let’s bring the others together. I need their thoughts.”

  Alasdair went to gather the others while Yngvar stared at Captain Alexius shouting from the wall. He could not hear what was said, but the captain’s curt gestures and shaking head told of rejection and anger. Nearly three hundred Arabs would tear down the walls and kill everyone inside. That was what Alexius expected, and so it would come to be.

  Yngvar looked to his dry-docked ship and One-Eye’s ship where the Byzantine crew now gathered. They looked with the same longing as Yngvar did at his own ship. Were they both in repair, they could sail from this disaster and never look back. Yet the gods had declared against it. He banished further thought of escape.

  Bjorn, Gyna, and Ewald were the first to arrive. They waited for Thorfast to come with Ragnar, Nordbert, and Lucas the Byzantine. Hamar also joined them. Some of the Franks also floated into the gathering. Alasdair had even brought Valgerd with him. She held his hand.

  Yngvar stood amid a tight circle of expectant faces. His small group had grown and now included people from all over the world. He could hardly believe it. But he felt the solemn weight of protecting these people and serving as their leader. Not knowing what to do burned like as hornet’s bite.

  His voice was low and thoughtful as he explained the news. When it was done, no one reacted. At last Bjorn laughed and folded his arms.

  “That fucking little shit has balls, I’ll grant him that. An alliance?”

  “I’ve got to pay him back for my knee,” Gyna said with a hiss. “It’s still not right.”

  “You’re right that he’ll betray us,” Thorfast said. “It’s a trap no matter what else you want to say of it.”

  “I don’t disagree with any of you,” Yngvar said. “But right now we have the offer of aid from outside. We will need it if we’re to defeat the Arabs surrounding us.”

  “Lord, it seems Kalim might have only a hundred men. At best he could only harry a force twice his size.” Alasdair stood at the edge of the group, he and Valgerd hand and hand. Both were short enough to be obscured by the taller men around them.

  “I doubt he is offering to do much more,” Yngvar said. “But perhaps I should hear what he has to offer.”

  “It’s a trap.” Nearly half the gathered men said the same thing at once.

  “Or it could be a trap of our own, lord.”

  Now the circle parted so that all could see Alasdair. He stood with Valgerd’s hand in his. She already looked the role
of proud wife, and it brought a faint smile to Yngvar.

  “It could be,” Yngvar agreed. “We take him hostage and negotiate a peace with his brother.”

  “I want to cut him to bits, starting from his toes!” Gyna shouted. Ewald added his own Germanic curses along with his aunt’s.

  “We all dream of his death,” Yngvar said. “That day will come, but not today. We need him as a hostage. How do we take him captive?”

  Each man looked to the other beside him. Gyna whispered to Ewald. Bjorn rubbed his fist into his one eye, seemingly bored. Yngvar looked to Thorfast and then Alasdair, who seemed to be the only two thinking of an answer.

  “He will not be unguarded,” Thorfast said. “Even if he says he will be alone.”

  “Lord, you cannot do it yourself. But I could go with you. I can hide.”

  “Ewald can as well,” Gyna said. Her nephew beamed proudly beside her, nodding. “He can turn into bush. I saw it myself. He and Alasdair will be as ghosts beside you.”

  “And if I give the Arabs something else to look at,” Yngvar said, “then none will see you approaching the prince. It is a desperate hope, but one that will give us an advantage over the Arabs. Let’s find that scout and send word back with him. We should meet close to the walls, so we won’t have far to carry him.”

  Agreements sounded around the circle and spirits seemed to rise. Yngvar at least felt as if he had some plan beyond hoping the gods dropped boulders from the sky to kill the Arabs.

  Captain Alexius came running toward him, the scout and his veteran aide following. His face was as red as his tunic when he shoved through the group to stand before Yngvar.

  “An alliance with the prince?” he shouted loud enough that he drew looks from guards atop the walls. “You are a treacherous one, aren’t you?”

  “Calm yourself,” Yngvar said. “We are all trapped here, aren’t we? I think we can turn this to our advantage. We take him hostage and use him to force the Arabs to retreat. A perfect solution, don’t you think?”

  “It sounds like a trap,” Alexius said, still shouting. He put both hands on his hips and his naturally disapproving face crumpled up into an expression of total disgust.

  “I thought so too, but—”

  “A trap for us, not you!” Alexius jabbed his finger into Yngvar’s chest. “You’re the one who raided us. You killed a fellow officer and my friend. It was you and Alasdair who climbed these walls in service to that little shit of a prince. Swear to me it wasn’t you. You’ve been afraid to do so all this time. Well, now it’s fucking time. You goddamned snake!”

  Yngvar stared into the captain’s glowering eyes. Soldiers on the walls now turned inside.

  “All right,” Yngvar said. “Here’s the truth.”

  17

  Yngvar squared up to Captain Alexius’s challenge. The Byzantine officer’s brows drew together, creating heavy furrows down his forehead. Despite only having his veteran aide and a scout behind him, he radiated a solidity like a full shield wall of warriors. Yngvar wanted to shrink away. This was a power of these Byzantine leaders. They must have trained from birth to intimidate and shame a man with a mere gaze. Were Yngvar not hardened himself from years of battle on the waves of the northern seas, he might have faltered.

  Instead, he let the rest of the world fall away from his care. The dark fortress wall and the soldiers staring down at him, his Wolves around him, the heavy gray clouds above, all dissolved. He focused exclusively on Captain Alexius’s hard eyes.

  “It was me and Alasdair who killed your friend. We scaled these walls while my companions burned your ships at anchor. We brought fire and death with us. I threw your friend from the tower then cut off his head when I found him below. I carried it back to Licata and presented it to Kalim in trade for a sack of gold.”

  Captain Alexius’s face turned ashen. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped wordlessly so that he seemed like a fish dying on the beach just beyond the surf.

  “That is the truth you have asked for,” Yngvar said. “I served as a mercenary. I took no joy in what I did. I did it for gold. I was repaid with betrayal and enslavement. Does knowing this truth change anything I have done since I have come among you? Does it mean we must now fight amongst ourselves rather than the enemy we both detest?”

  “You fucking bastard!” Alexius hauled back. Yngvar saw the punch and stood to accept it. The blow would not kill him. If it would diffuse the captain’s anger, he would endure it.

  But Alexius stood with his fist cocked, hate shifting to confusion on his haggard face. At last, he dropped his arm and opened his fist.

  “How can I trust that you are not conspiring with Kalim again?”

  “Because he tried to kill me once. I served him for gold only, and then without even knowing what manner of man he was. Now I serve the Empire of my own desire. That is a difference, Captain. I will not lie to you. When Kalim is dead, my time here is done. I will not remain a day longer than I must. But until then, you can trust me to work against Kalim to the limit of my own life.”

  “Sir, don’t listen to this.” The veteran behind Captain Alexius snarled at Yngvar. “Doesn’t matter why he did it, he admits he did it. The lot of them should be flogged to death.”

  Yngvar was thankful the Franks and his Wolves could not understand the veteran’s threats. The one called Ragnar began to mumble a translation. Yngvar cut him off, speaking over him.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Yngvar said. “This is war and men die. I once worked for your enemy. Now your enemy is my enemy. If you cannot be practical about this, then open the gates and surrender. For we will defeat ourselves before the Arabs can place their first ladder against our walls.”

  Alexius shook his head but turned to his veteran. “Don’t go repeating your thoughts. We need every sword united against these Arabs. Now is not the time to divide ourselves. I wish I had not demanded the truth. It serves nothing right now.”

  He turned back to Yngvar and frowned.

  “But I will not ally with any Arab. No good can come from it.”

  “We don’t plan to,” Yngvar said. Instead he shared his plan with Alexius. When finished the captain still frowned.

  “I suppose holding a noble hostage would buy us whatever we wanted. Which is to say, we could remain at peace until Messina is settled. But Kalim has already betrayed you once. Don’t be fooled. He will do so again.”

  “Of course he will,” Yngvar said. “As soon as we drive off his brother, he will have figured out some means to trap us. But if we take him hostage, then we dictate all terms to his men and his brother’s men.”

  “He will have guessed this plan,” Alexius said. “He is weak and unloved by his family, from what I know. But he is not a fool. He will expect you to attempt to capture him. He will not be waiting alone and defenseless.”

  “But neither will I,” Yngvar said. “I will have a small force with me. Some that he will see and some that he won’t. It will be a feint. That is how we will catch him.”

  Alexius shrugged. “If there is a division among the Arabs, we should exploit it. But if you are captured we cannot aid you.”

  “You must defend Pozzallo no matter what else happens,” Yngvar said. “Just make the way back ready for us. For I am sure we will be pursued. But when we return, we will have our hostage to display on the walls. Then, when the attack at Messina succeeds and the Arabs are pushed back, you will let me and my Wolves hack Kalim into bloody ribbons.”

  “Any plan is better than yielding the first move to the enemy.” The captain paused and narrowed his eyes. “You spoke the truth. I am grateful for it. This does not make us friends. I will not forgive you. But I will work with you as long as we share this fate together. You were once an enemy of the Empire, and my conscience cannot treat you otherwise.”

  “Fair enough,” Yngvar said. “Let us succeed in our shared goal. When all is finished, we might not part as friends but let us part in peace. There are enough Arabs in Sicily to keep our swor
ds bloodied for a lifetime. No need to turn them against each other.”

  Rather than break up, Yngvar returned to his circle while Alexius gathered the scout and other of his men to his side.

  “They’ll turn on us,” Thorfast said. “Byzantines are worse than Arabs. Not a single one is truthful. At least the Arabs are plain in what they love and hate.”

  “You give them too much credit,” Yngvar said. “You forget Jamil and Saleet and how they led us to our ruin. But I agree that we must not consider anyone an ally here. We have enemies on all sides. Trust only to ourselves. For now, the Byzantines need us as we need them.”

  “Lord, if Gyna says Ewald is so skilled, then I believe her. But I cannot communicate with him. How can he be effective?”

  “Because I’m going with you,” Gyna said. “If things go wrong, I want to be right there to cut off Kalim’s balls. I can’t die without a taking a hunk of his flesh with me.”

  Bjorn groaned. “Well I’m not standing around for this,”

  “You’ll lead the diversion,” Yngvar said. “You’re too big for the finer work of sneaking up on Kalim.”

  “I’ll go with Bjorn,” Thorfast said. “He needs protection on his blind side.”

  “Pick eight men to go with you,” Yngvar said. “We need to make it seem you are attempting to sneak up on our meeting. Alasdair and the others will aid me in capturing Kalim. You will cover our retreat, so pick the bravest men who won’t panic when Kalim springs his entire army at us.”

  The rest of the details were hashed out among the different groups. Yngvar reconnected with Alexius. While the captain’s aide glowered at him, the others he had collected had no shift in their attitudes. It seemed Alexius had told no one else of Yngvar’s confession. The news would travel, as that veteran detested him. But for now it seemed they could continue to coordinate efforts.

  “We will mass archers on the walls,” Alexius said. “But keep them hidden until needed. They will cover your retreat. The Arabs are still arranging their camp. Whatever their plans, it would seem they will wait for nightfall to carry them out. I assume they will surround us. Otherwise, they should be massing for an attack.”