Ragnvald waved his hand dismissively. "Times have been difficult. It makes a man wary of everything, even his friends."
"But your question is fair," Ingrid continued. All turned toward her, and she smiled delicately at the attention. She pushed a lock of hair over her ear as she spoke. "Lord Ulfrik and I have an agreement. My husband has proved faithless. He did not even attempt to rescue me, but rather looked to himself first. I am finished with him. Lord Ulfrik proposes to destroy Hardar. Those lands are mine by birthright, and I will rule them. Lord Ulfrik and I will be allies, not enemies. No foreign power will rule here."
The room fell silent as Ragnvald searched Ingrid's face. "And Ulfrik is still sworn to Hrolf the Strider. But still, Hardar is the immediate threat." He softly shook his head. "I need to consider all of this."
"Jarl Ragnvald," Ulfrik spoke carefully. "If you cannot commit to battle, I understand. It is not your fight. But will you at least support us? I have not done all that I should have to befriend the jarls of these islands. You are the closest to me. Allow us to shelter on your land while we plan."
He sighed heavily, puffing out his cheeks. "You are welcome on my lands, but do not drag the battle here. Do not entangle me before I am decided."
"You have my word."
The tension dissipated, and Ragnvald's expression brightened. "Then tonight we shall celebrate your safe return. On the morrow, you will no doubt go to seek your family."
Their agreement made, talk shifted to trite conversation. Eventually Ragnvald excused himself to make preparations, leaving Ulfrik with Ingrid and the others.
"That did not go as well as I had expected," Ulfrik admitted, after checking no others listened.
"My daughter had better be safe," Ingrid hissed. "I thought Toki was to protect her, Lord Ulfrik."
He stared at Ingrid, rubbing his arms. "I thought so as well, Lady Ingrid. I know Ragnvald is honest, and they never came this way. It could be they decided on another plan. But we cannot seek them now, at least not too widely. Our strike on Hardar must be a surprise."
"I don't trust Ragnvald," Gunther interrupted. "He's wormy, can't make a decision. An enemy is half a day's sailing distance and he won't move. You don't need that kind of ally, Ulfrik."
The words felt right, though Ulfrik did not want to accept them. He looked to Snorri, who had remained pensive throughout the afternoon. The disappointment of not finding his family had weighed on him as well, Ulfrik guessed. "What do you say, old friend?"
He shrugged. "Hardar must die. It must happen first and happen fast. If we can't persuade Ragnvald, then we haven't much chance with others."
Ulfrik put his hands to his temples, nodding agreement. He closed his eyes and silently asked the gods to show him the way to victory. But for the moment, he stood alone on a path shrouded in fog.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Fog rolled across Nye Grenner, wiping color from the land. The turf roofs of the huddled buildings floated within it. Summer was ending and the air remained cool long after sunrise. Shadows of people moved within the fog as they began their daily routines. Yellow light still shined from the central hall, a wide square of it pushing through the fog as someone emerged.
Hardar stood with arms folded across his chest. He stood at the top of the grassy slope where months ago he had led a desperate charge. From this vantage he understood how cleverly Ulfrik had laid out his dwellings. The placement of buildings, rock formations, even the grade of the slope all worked to channel attackers one way. The defenders only had to stand in the correct spot and dominate the approach with bow fire and spears. Hardar supposed the gods had loved him that day, for he should have died in the trap.
He heard the grass swishing, but remained studying the slope as he felt the presence stop behind him.
"Are you refreshed, Skard?" Hardar's voice shook with irritation.
"Much better now that I've eaten. I departed as soon as the messenger arrived. Didn't even stop to eat."
"Yet you stopped to eat from my table." Hardar turned and faced his cousin. Skard was older than him, but his beard was still black and hair full and spotted with crumbs of his last meal. "Now let's get to our discussion. Thorod is ready?"
Skard nodded and both men returned to the hall. Nye Grenner's hall had seemed much grander to Hardar before he took it over. Now it seemed like a child's attempt to imitate a man's hall. Even this high table did not rise suitably above the others. Yet Hardar had endured it, as his own hall was nothing more than a black skeleton buried in ash. One of the local girls, thin and sleepy-eyed, fed the hearth fire dried twigs of heather. She smiled at Hardar as he entered. He could not remember her name, only having recently taken her to his bed. Ignoring her, he found Thorod guzzling from a mug and seated at the high table.
Plodding through the hall, he dropped himself onto the bench at the high table. His cousins, Skard and Thorod, stared at him with expectant expressions.
"Ulfrik has returned." Hardar spoke as if describing the weather. Both cousins drew a sharp breath, but he did not look at them. He stared at the young girl keeping the fire alive.
"That's not possible," Thorod said. "A hundred men led him away as a slave. How do you return from that?" He laughed, a thin and nervous laugh that caught on with no one.
"But he did. Word came that strange ships entered these waters, headed for Ragnvald's lands. I sent a spy and he returned last night with confirmation." Hardar watched as the girl finished dropping twigs into the fire. She closed the box of dried branches, then began to collect the remains of the last meal off the tables. She was a good girl, he thought. Maybe one to keep this time.
"You are certain of this? How long has he been here?" asked Skard.
"Nearly a week. He travels with foreigners who are camped on Ragnvald's land. About ninety men or more, all in good war gear." He finally regarded his cousins. They appeared to shrink underneath his gaze like frightened children. "They form Ulfrik's war band."
They all sat in long silence. Hardar returned to staring at the girl. She was maybe as old as his daughter, even resembled her. He had not thought much about Halla or Ingrid since they had left him. He was glad to be rid of Halla. Having whored herself on common scum, she was worthless. Ingrid, though beautiful, had outlived her purpose. He owned her property and men had forgotten her father. Each year made her more shrill and defiant. Kjotve had done him a good turn when he carried her off.
Hardar leapt in shock at a touch to his elbow. Skard and Thorod recoiled. His heart thumped as if he had run up a mountainside. He resisted an urge to strike one of them.
"You were not listening," explained wide-eyed Thorod. "We have to act quickly."
"Which is why I dragged the two of you here. Forget rebuilding my old hall for now." Hardar stood and found the girl he had been watching was now staring at him. He shooed her with a flip of his hand. "Get out of here, woman. This is talk for men."
He paced with his hands locked behind him as he waited for the girl to exit. Then he resumed with his cousins. "Your men will fight?"
Skard and Thorod looked at each other. Skard answered for both. "If they are paid well, they will fight."
Hardar's fist slammed into Skard's cheek. The thick crack echoed in the vacant hall as he crumpled to the floor. Hardar seized him by his shirt and hauled him up to his face. His spittle dappled Skard as he screamed. "They will fucking fight or die! This isn't about thieving my last piece of gold, you scum! This is about destroying Ulfrik. If I don't pay, then what will they do? Sail off? Ulfrik will hunt them, you fool, and then they die!"
He shoved Skard back to the floor. Thorod had leapt clear and reached for the hilt of a dagger. Hardar bellowed at him. "Fight me, and I'll show you why I'm the greatest jarl in all these lands. You won't be alive to know, but you'll teach your brother. Now sit down, both of you, and let me hear no more about payment. This is about duty."
Skard's reddened cheek had already begun to swell. He scowled at Hardar, but sat as directed. T
horod's hand melted from his dagger, and he also sat. Skard spit on the floor. "They will fight, but they will expect something for risking their lives. This is not their home. It's all I wanted to say."
Hardar grunted and continued to pace. "How many men do you have in total, about forty?"
Thorod shook his head. "Forty including whoever remained from your men. I bought you back twenty more men from the Hebrides."
"Sixty men is not enough!" Hardar yelled, punching the air. "At least twenty more must come, and I'd want twenty again to be sure. Where can I raise forty more men?"
Skard and Thorod stared at him. He stared back. In one summer of fighting he had reduced his army to a paltry forty men. Kjotve had stolen most of his wealth and Ulfrik had hidden his own treasures. He could scarcely afford the men he had already employed.
"We need allies," Hardar said. "The two of you will go north and promise thirty pounds of silver to any jarl who will come to my aid."
"You have that much?" Skard frowned, still holding his bruised cheek.
"I will have that much by the time you return. Each of you take a ship, bring men, and I will give you silver to pay the jarls a portion in advance. You will leave immediately. Ulfrik is not going to launch his attack any day soon."
Thorod and Skard sat with their brows furrowed and mouths agape. Hardar saw the disbelief in their eyes. He was lying, of course, but not entirely. He swallowed the angry curses he felt rising in his throat, and smiled.
"I will give you silver, as well. For your service to me. This I will give you today."
"So you've kept a secret from us?" Thorod said with a sly grin. "There's more in the stores than you want us to believe."
The stores had nothing more, but Hardar smiled sheepishly. "Every man keeps something for himself. But now I cannot afford to withhold it. As for the rest of the promised silver, more is hidden on this land than Ulfrik took with him. There are still those loyal to him who should know where it is."
Thorod and Skard smiled, though Skard's vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "You don't know that. You're just guessing. If we go out and promise silver you cannot pay, you will be making new enemies."
"Be ready to sail as soon as the fog lifts. I will have your silver ready, and you will do as I've asked."
Thorod and Skard eventually rose from the table and left the hall. Hardar searched around, as if he had overlooked a secret hiding spot where mounds of silver and gold lay. He licked his lips. Prevailing against Ulfrik was his highest priority. The other jarls would hopefully die in battle, or could be helped to that fate once victory was assured.
He exited the hall, stepping into the milky light of the morning. He set out for the barracks where the mercenaries passed their days drinking and playing dice, waiting for the promised raids to begin. They would not hesitate in breaking bones or cutting off noses from the local people. One of Ulfrik's circle still lived here, Thorvald the blacksmith. He planned to start with him. He hoped the smith would still have the use of his hands once he confessed the location of the hidden treasure.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ulfrik awoke with his face on a dirt floor. He scratched at it, and fear flashed through him. He flipped over, expecting Hardar's pug-nosed face to appear above him. Instead he saw tendrils of smoke inching along the ceiling, entwining the rafters. He heard a few low voices, and remembered where he was.
"There's the great drinker!" Gunther One-Eye's voice hit his head like a hammer. "You and your friend together couldn't put me under. What did I promise you?"
Ulfrik's mouth was stiff and dry, a burning thirst consumed him. "You promised I'd regret challenging you."
"But you couldn't resist!" He chortled and his companions joined him. "Ragnvald can throw a feast, I'll offer you that. If he can fight like he can drink, then maybe we should try harder to get him on our side."
More laughter made Ulfrik's head ring. He stood, brushed down his shirt and hair. He pulled away bits of straw caught in his beard and pants. Snorri slouched over a bench, gave a bleak smile over his shoulder. "My age is showing."
Ulfrik moved stiffly. Ragnvald's feast had been the first good thing he had experienced in months, and he had overindulged. Now, in the unforgiving clarity of the morning, he felt ill physically and mentally. His wife and son were lost, maybe even dead. He hit his head to clear his mind, but also to chastise himself. He shuffled to the bench and seated himself.
Ingrid sat across from both of them. Her pale eyes flashed cold disdain, her face a mask of snow. She perched on her bench, making Ulfrik think of a hawk. He knew the talons were ready to strike.
"Lord Ulfrik, you are causing me great doubt. My family, all of our families, are relying on your plans. Getting drunk and falling into a puddle of your vomit is no way to help anyone. You know there is no time to waste. How clear are you this morning? Could you defend yourself if Hardar surprised us here?"
Ulfrik stared at her. She was right, and he hated it. "I've got to piss."
He shuffled away, leaving Gunther and his crew snickering. Rather than pissing inside, as he often did, he fumbled outside and let go on the wall beside the door. Steam rolled of the wetness pattering on the wall as he considered next steps. If Ragnvald would not assist, neither would anyone else. He had to learn the situation at Nye Grenner for himself, which meant sending spies or handling it on his own.
He ambled back inside, where no one had moved and Ingrid sat in frigid anger. Returning to Snorri's side, he cast around at the expectant faces. "Someone needs to see what's happing at Nye Grenner. Who can we send?"
"Didn't Ragnvald tell us everything we need to know?" Gunther asked. "He's hired some farmers to supplement his own men. We only need to kill them along with Hardar."
Gunther's crew laughed but Ulfrik shook his head. "I value Ragnvald's insights, but I need to know what is happening today. This is my one chance, one I cannot treat lightly. Someone must go to Nye Grenner."
Ingrid cleared her throat. Ulfrik ignored her, still suffering the embarrassed sting of her words. "Would not the best person for this be you? Who knows the land better?"
"I'd lose my temper the moment I set foot there. I'm the worst choice. But someone should be sent immediately. Gunther, someone from your crew would do. One of my own men will guide him."
"I've got a boy on my crew who's like a shadow. I can send him if your man won't give him away."
"I'm sure Ragnvald would lend a small boat, or someone could spare one for the right payment."
Gunther frowned. "I'm supposed to grow wealthier on this adventure. Whatever I spend is coming out of your take."
"I'll take my share in Hardar's teeth." Laughter rippled across the gathered crew, but Ingrid winced. Ulfrik fell silent. The shame only lasted a moment. "Come now, Lady Ingrid. He's no longer your husband. You're planning this attack with us, you'll remember."
She waved her hand before her face, her own blush forming. Satisfied, Ulfrik turned to Gunther and explained how to best approach Nye Grenner and where to hide. Men came and went as he detailed the plan. Ragnvald later joined and agreed to help secure a small boat for the job. After most of the morning had passed, all was ready and Gunther's man rowed off with his guide.
Ulfrik and several others joined Gunther to wish them luck as they departed. If the gods were with them, they would make landfall by night, or so Ulfrik had planned.
"I hope the sea remains flat," Gunther said absently. "Or that leaky barrel you claim is a boat will capsize."
"Ragnvald said it was all he could get us on short notice. We have to trust to the gods." Ulfrik heard the insincerity in his own voice.
"You'll pay the man's gold price too, if he doesn't return. So you better make good with the gods."
Once the small boat disappeared from sight, they headed back toward Ragnvald's hall. Ingrid blocked Ulfrik's path, stopping him and Snorri. Gunther smiled and continued on with his men.
"So we just wait?" She shifted her weight to one leg and
folded her arms. Though Ingrid grew more beautiful as bruises faded and flesh refilled the bony spaces of her frame, Ulfrik found her less attractive each time he saw her.
"I don't expect to wait more than three or four days. Once we know the situation, we attack."
"What about our families?" She looked between Snorri and Ulfrik, her eyebrow arched.
"As I've said, we can't search for them now and risk announcing ourselves."
"I know where they could be, or might have been."
Ulfrik's eyes widened. "Then why not say something earlier? Where do you think they have gone?"
"The Irish monks. They keep a monastery not too far north."
"I know it, the only holy place of the new god without any riches. Why would they go there?"
A breeze caught Ingrid's hair, blowing it across her face. She tossed her head, and looked north. "My hus ..., I mean Hardar, tried to marry my daughter to a man named Erp. She was very young at the time, but even then headstrong and prone to running from trouble. She stole a golden broach from me, traded it for passage to the monastery. She begged the monks to hide her."
"Did they?"
She smiled, wistful and distant. Her voice dropped as she answered. "For a short time. But they knew better than to anger her father. The monks wanted her to become a Christian. We found her before the monks could work their spells to bind her to their god."
"So why go there now?" Snorri's voice was a gruff intrusion on Ingrid's dreamy tone.
"Because no one else will help her. The monks help those in need, as that is the sacrifice their god demands along with taking no women to their beds."
"Now that seems more of a danger," Ulfrik said. "How long can even a holy man resist a beautiful woman?"
Ingrid smiled strangely at him. It caught him so unexpectedly that he felt a chill. She laughed lightly at his discomfort.
"We could check the monastery while we wait for the return of Gunther's spy," Snorri said. "It's a short journey, and worth it."
Ulfrik agreed. The three of them resumed their walk to Ragnvald's hall. The silence felt awkward, and Ulfrik could not resist another question. "What happened to Erp?"
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