"He died." Ulfrik and Snorri stopped, but Ingrid continued a few paces before turning with a wry smile. "Of fever, of course. Halla was so plain about her dislike of Erp that he gave up on her and I agreed the marriage deal was best abandoned."
"And Hardar didn't force her?"
Ingrid shrugged. "Erp was my idea, not his. He felt she could marry higher, and bring him better connections. My father still lived then, if only in body and not in mind. He respected me more when my father lived."
They returned to the hall and shared plans with Gunther, who agreed to take them to the monastery. Ulfrik started preparations, hoping that Runa and Gunnar awaited him there.
"You really think you're going to find you wife and son?" Gunther asked as he helped Ulfrik aboard his ship.
"There is no harm in trying, and it sounds like it could be true." Ulfrik leapt the rails to land on the deck.
Gunther shook his head. "Maybe you should sacrifice to the new god to be sure. Burn some fish. I hear that's what the new god likes, besides gold and silver."
"The new god is like any other god. If we entertain him, he will reward us. If we don't, he will forget us."
Ulfrik stretched his back, the healed lashes still tender and sore. Gunther scratched his nose, then spit.
"From the looks of these lands, nothing but grass and rocks covered in bird shit, I'd say all gods have forgotten this place."
Gunther laughed at his wit, but Ulfrik gazed over the beach and did not disagree.
Hardar knew no hidden treasure existed. The torture would have wrested its existence from Thorvald. Now his head monitored the docks, freshly severed and placed on a spear. But better news had arrived, and Hardar now waited outside the blacksmith's forge. It was already splashed with blood from the last interrogation, and so became Hardar's slaughterhouse.
The day was uncommonly humid, and Hardar fanned himself as he waited. The whole village was silent, not even a gull squawked. He heard the struggling men long before they arrived down the dirt lane. His second, Dag the Sword-Bender, shoved a young man at spear point. An older man followed, held between two other hirdmen. They deposited the two before Hardar.
"You're spies for Ulfrik." Hardar did not need to ask, only to confirm. The two men looked up, the younger one nodding.
"Don't say anything," snapped the older man. Hardar felt his stomach burn with anger.
"When is the attack coming? Tomorrow?"
"You'll get nothing from me." The older man raised his jaw and scowled at Hardar.
"That's fine. You can still help." Hardar picked up the hammer that he had used to break Thorvald's hands. "You two, put his head on that anvil."
The man scrabbled back, but the hirdmen held him tight. He sounded like he might be babbling about Ulfrik. Hardar did not care, as the younger man would reveal everything. The hirdmen shoved his head down to the anvil and Hardar smashed the man's skull. He screamed and flexed, but Hardar slammed again until the head flattened and blood and fluid plopped to the dirt floor. The body slipped to the base of the anvil and more gore gushed from the broken head.
He pointed the dripping hammer at the young man. "That was a mercy. You'll be tortured for days unless you talk now."
The young man's mouth fell open, and a stain bloomed at his crotch. Hardar laughed and lowered the hammer. The words flowed out like his urine. "Gods, I'll tell you anything. I'm not Ulfrik's man. I belong to Gunther One-Eye. He'll ransom me good, anything you ask. He likes me, he does. Plenty of gold in it for you."
"Tell me everything and I'll consider it."
The young man told Hardar about Ulfrik and all he knew. Hardar stopped him at the mention of Ingrid. He could not believe she cooperated with Ulfrik. The thought made him quiver and bite his lip. The man continued to detail the fighting strength of Gunther's troops. When he finished, Hardar gave a solemn nod to Dag.
Dag rammed his spear through the young man's back. He fell forward, blood rushing out of his chest where the spear tip exited. Dag let go of the shaft as the man died with a whimper. His body plopped alongside the other dead captive.
Hardar left the others to clean up, with an order for Dag to join him at his hall when finished. His cousins had also returned, though without the fleet he had hoped to see. He strode into the hall, everything black as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Someone open the smoke hole and let in some light."
His order bounced around the hall. Everyone had fled him shortly after Thorvald had begun screaming. He jumbled around for the draw rope and opened the smoke hole himself. The bright light splashed the room, and lit his high table. He seated himself there to await his cousins, who joined him just as he began to grow bored.
"How many?"
"Enough," said Thorod.
"Twenty more men," said Skard. "And they expect good pay. Did you find the rest of the treasure?"
"Twenty? Who sent them?" Hardar wanted to avoid mention of payment. His wealth had vanished.
"They come from all over," Thorod said as he seated himself. He picked at his fingernail as he continued. "They are desperate men. That you've been sacked and ruined is well known. The only men to come were those who will take any chance to earn silver. Otherwise, no one believes you can pay for anything."
"And neither do we," Skard said and folded his arms. Hardar began to stand, anger pulling his neck and face tight. But Skard leapt forward, his fist in the air. "You had us believe you could pay. We left our homes to help you, brought our men here to find glory. You can't fucking pay us, can you? It was a lie."
Hardar sank down. He could not deny it any longer. His voice was a low grumble. "I can pay you, but not all your men. Nor all the other men. I am without gold. For now, though. Once Ulfrik is defeated, there will be no more threat to the land. We can go a-viking, raid for treasure in Frisia or Frankia, anywhere in the world. I can make us wealthy again. My family, our family, will be the greatest the Faereyjar ever knew."
The hall door opened and Dag entered. Hardar welcomed the distraction. Skard’s and Thorod's gazes followed Dag as he joined Hardar at the high table.
"You cannot delay paying these men," Thorod said, continuing where his brother left off. "We are family, and we are sure of being repaid. But these others, they might rebel. They might flee the battle if they doubt you, and they do."
"What my brother is saying," Skard raised his voice over Thorod's, "is that you have lost this fight with Ulfrik. His return has marked your end."
"Never!" Hardar shot to his feet, his face hot and eye twitching. "He stole my daughter and my wife. He overstepped his bounds. He'll never be equal to me, never. I will fight and I will win."
"You won't," Thorod whispered. "You're paying men to fight for you, and your poverty has become famous. If you can't pay, the men will disappear."
"Then I won't pay," he shouted. Both his cousins exploded in laughter at the statement. Hardar paused, wondering what he was thinking. The words came from somewhere, but not him. Then, a plan began to form.
"I won't pay, that's right. I won't need to pay. I will finish this pup myself, like I should have done before."
Everyone regarded him with sideways gazes. Hardar, however, began to smile.
"When Ulfrik comes, we will be prepared. The men only need to look ready to fight. But they won't have to fight. This place is a fortress, and Ulfrik knows it. We stand where he stood when we last fought, we dominate the field. He won't want to make the charge we did, knowing how deadly it is. But I will give him an out. I will offer him single combat, to the death."
Thorod and Skard exchanged glances. Skard tilted his head. "Why would he be so fucking stupid? He's got a better army."
"He's got mercenaries, too. They'll see that slope and know what Kjotve knew. What can Ulfrik offer them that would drive men to their deaths? If I offer him single combat, he'll take that bait. He has no other way around us."
"When his spies don't return, he'll know we're ready," Thorvald said, continuing to pick his nails
. "Doesn't he know his own land better than you? Are you sure there's no other way to attack us?"
"He can only fight us where we stand. It will work." Hardar could already see it unfolding in his mind: Ulfrik's mercenaries balking at the steep slope and the threat of arrows.
"And what if you're fucking killed?" asked Skard.
"I won't be, and Dag will make sure of it." Dag sat up at the mention of his name. "Dag, you put an arrow through one of the men kidnapping my daughter. You did it in a storm, barely a moment to aim."
"The arrows had the gods' hands upon it, lord," he said with a falsely modest nod of his head.
"You've won every ax throwing or archery contest I've ever held. You get up in the rocks, have your bow ready. You'll be there from the start. Stay hidden, easy enough in those rocks. If I signal you, put an arrow through Ulfrik's throat."
"That breaks your word. It will start the battle you want to avoid."
"His army will retreat. Who's going to pay them when he's dead? There'll be no fight." Hardar looked expectantly, both Thorod and Skard frowning. Dag shrugged as if the matter made no difference to him. He took their silence for agreement. "There will be no fight, only Ulfrik dead at my feet."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Toki stared at smoke-blackened rafters. A vague light struggled with the shadows above. He did not know how long he had stared. He felt as if he had staggered out of a fog, the remnants of which still clung to the edges of his vision. He shivered, then realized he was covered in furs though naked but for pants. He lay on a wooden pallet softened by straw under a linen sheet.
He tipped his head to one side, facing a wall of stone no more than an arm's length away. A stone wall made no sense. Something important had happened. He had been hurt. Why?
Strange singing emanated from beyond the wall. Male voices sang in a language he did not understand, though Toki considered the wall might have distorted the sound. He reached for the wall, placing his palm against the chill hardness.
"You're awake," came Halla's excited voice from beside his bed. Toki felt a flush of happiness at the familiar sound and turned to her.
She was dressed in a simple gray robe that could not depress her beauty. Her hair had been combed and brushed so that it shined. Her clear eyes were wide and sparkling, tears welling. She had been seated against a wall in this cell, but now rushed to embrace him.
"I knew you would get better," she said as threw her arms about his shoulders. Her hair splashed across his face, smelling sweet and clean, and her body felt warm and soft. Wet tears dripped onto his neck. "The brothers have brought you back to me."
Toki stroked the back of her head. Then he began to remember. "An arrow pierced my side. I fell to the deck. We were fleeing something. I can't remember."
Halla shook her head next to his. "No, don't think of those terrible days. They are done, and you will be well. The new god has placed his hand on you. You will live. Your fever is broken. Your blood price to the old gods was paid."
"Old gods? Where am I? Where are the others, my sister and Gunnar?" Memory returned from the mists of his fevered sleep. He remembered the ambush and the deaths suffered. "How did we escape?"
"Einar and Thrand rowed us away from danger." Halla pulled back, her tear-stained face looking into his. "Toki, I am so sorry. It was again my fault. We think those men were sent by Runolf, for the embarrassment I caused him. I thought you were dead."
She hugged Toki again, sobbing. He now felt the hot wound at his side. His hand sought it, finding bandages wrapped tightly about it. "But I did not die. It was not your fault."
"Everything is my fault," she hissed in his ear. "I was so foolish, so childish. I caused so much suffering for you. Will you forgive me, Toki?"
He pushed her back, her face hanging inches from him. Her hair fell like a veil around them, a secluded and warm place. He breathed in the fragrance of her, the sweet taste of her closeness. Then he gently tugged her forward, and she responded, joining her lips to his. The kiss filled Toki with strength. He tightened his grip on her shoulders, and funneled passion into their embrace.
When they parted, Halla's eyes remained closed and she smiled. He whispered to her, "There is nothing to forgive."
She opened her eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment. Then she pulled back to stand at his bedside. He began to rise to his elbows, but a sudden flash of pain in his side made him cry out.
"Lie still," Halla said. "The wound went bad after the brothers removed the arrow from you. They've used the last of their willow bark to ease your pain. So you must be careful now."
"That hurt enough to not try again. But where are the others? What happened after we got away?"
"I insisted we come here, back to the Faereyjar Islands. The Irish monks help those in need. This was the only safe place I knew to take you. That's them singing."
"I thought the monks wanted to be left alone." Toki looked about the cell, which was fitted with his pallet, a stool, and a desk with a candle. A high window let in sunlight and a breeze, the hide shade flapping against the stone.
"Toki, you were dying. Christ asks us to do for others what we would have done for ourselves. For so long, I thought the brothers could not save you, that nothing could."
"But they did, and I am grateful."
"It was the god Christ who did."
Toki paused, then caught sight of Dana hovering just beyond the door. For a moment he hoped the others were still with him. "Is Runa here?"
"They have all gone," Halla said, returning to her stool beside the door. "Lord Ulfrik visited here not long ago, looking for us. He left word with the brothers that we should go to Jarl Ragnvald's lands like originally planned."
Toki felt his face grow hot, and he looked at the ceiling. The pain in his side still throbbed. "So he freed himself, and depended upon me to be where he expected. I failed him. He will not have the men I promised to find."
Silence filled the room. Questions crowded his mind, but the answers would do him no good. He thought of Njall who had given his life to this quest. He thought of the suffering Runa had endured, knowing her husband was a prisoner without help. He had only wasted time, and done nothing for anyone. He felt tears pushing beneath his eyelids.
"Lord Ulfrik had found men of his own, a large ship filled with warriors, or so the brothers said. I expect he has gone on to fight my father. I would lie to say I am unhappy to miss it."
"Well, I am unhappy," he said, frowning at her. "Ulfrik is like a brother, and I should serve him until death. I should be at his side when he fights, holding his battle standard. It is my duty, and I have failed."
"You have kept his family safe. He entrusted you with that duty, too." She hesitated, and Toki considered the truth of her words. But before he could reply, she started anew. "Toki, there is one other thing I must say."
He looked at her expectantly. She bit her lower lip.
"The brothers, they are poor men, only surviving here by their own hand."
"As do all men who live here." Toki's stomach tightened, heightening the throb from his wound.
"There are only five brothers left, and three are very old. They will soon be gone and nothing left of them. They asked, in return for their help, that I accept their god, Christ. I told them if you lived, then I would."
Toki laughed, then began to cough. His abdomen pained him with each hack. "Gods, woman, you had me worried they wanted you to live here. That's all, then?"
Halla smiled, then giggled. Toki reached out for her, and pulled her close for another kiss. Adding to the list of gods he had to placate was hardly a matter worth considering.
"Now you must take me to Jarl Ragnvald. I have to know what has happened. Who has Raven's Talon?"
"Einar and Thrand are the only ones who can work the sails, though they showed us all how to do it. But you've just got your wits back, Toki. Last night you were still babbling."
"I will go to Jarl Ragnvald. The brothers have no ship?"<
br />
Halla shook her head. Toki again tried to sit up, a sharp pain flattening him instantly. A drowsy weakness was already overcoming him. He understood Halla was right, and he would have to miss the one battle in which his lord and brother would most need him. He asked the gods, both Odin and Christ, to guide Ulfrik's sword in battle and to behead the poisonous snake, Hardar. He could do no more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The sun flared over the flat line of the eastern horizon. Gunther's two ships bobbed in the shallows, their crews bristling on the decks, joking and boasting as men do before battle. Loud talk soothes the nerves of even battle-tested warriors. Ulfrik left his few surviving followers in Snorri's care.
"You won't change his mind," Snorri said, standing in the blue shadow of a ship.
"One last try. Tell Gunther to wait a while longer."
Snorri shook his head. "I'm in no hurry for battle, not at my age. I'll tell him, but he's losing patience."
Ulfrik patted Snorri's shoulder, leaving him to board the ship with his men, then climbed the slope to where Ragnvald and his hirdmen watched. The sun at their backs turned them to gold-lined shadows. All he could see was Ingrid's platinum hair fluttering in the breeze as she stood beside Ragnvald.
"Gods grant you victory today," Ragnvald said in a way that sounded like he had asked Ulfrik to leave and never return.
"I've worn out their ears with my pleas." Ulfrik closed the distance, then clasped arms with Ragnvald. "I wanted to thank you one last time. If I do not return ..."
"Your family will be safe if they find their way to me. The Lady Ingrid will be welcomed here as well."
Ragnvald inclined his head to Ingrid, who smiled demurely. Ulfrik wondered if Ragnvald's wife welcomed her, but then pushed aside the thought.
"If I do return, it will be in victory, and I will repay you for your kindness." Ragnvald held up his hands and shook his head, but Ulfrik continued. "I must ask one final time, why not join me? Hardar has obviously captured my spies, and knows you've supported me. If I fail, you will be next. Why not ensure I do not fail?"
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