"I am called Strongbow," I replied. "Answer me. Where are Sigrid and Ubbe?"
Someone said, "I know that voice," and a man in a shabby, soiled tunic pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
"Get behind me, thrall," Gunhild snapped, but he ignored her.
"Is it you?" he asked in a quavering voice. "Is it Halfdan?"
I had not counted on this. I loosened the strap under my chin and pulled my helm from my head. "Fasti," I answered. "It is. I have returned."
Gunhild staggered back. She would have fallen had those behind not supported her. "But you are dead!" she gasped.
"It would seem I am not." To Fasti, I added, "Quickly. You must tell me. Where is Toke? Are he and his men still inside? Where are Sigrid and Ubbe?"
The expression of wonder that had filled his face a moment before was replaced by a look of pain and fear.
"Toke is gone. He and all of his men. He killed Ubbe, and took Sigrid with him."
2
Niddingsvaark
After our ships landed, Hastein sent parties of warriors out to the edges of the fields to stand watch in case a force came from the nearby village, or from the forest as we had done. "Toke may be gone from here now, but he and his men could still be nearby. We must take no chances," he said.
The rest of our men lounged at ease around the yard outside the longhouse, while the leaders of our party gathered inside to hold counsel. In the center of the longhouse, near the hearth, Hastein and I sat Fasti down on the long bench against the wall and were questioning him, trying to learn more about what had happened. Hrodgar, Ivar, Bjorn, Stig, and Svein were seated at the high table nearby, listening. Torvald was with them, too.
It was proving difficult to get clear answers from Fasti, for he was distracted. The assemblage of chieftains and warriors who had taken possession of the estate, seemingly with hostile intent based on their warlike appearance, clearly unnerved him. It did not help matters, either, that Gunhild was hovering nearby, scowling at him.
"I need to know more, Fasti," I told him. "You must tell me everything that happened."
"It was after the ship came," he said.
"Ship? What ship?" Hastein asked. With a sinking feeling, I felt certain I already knew.
"The Sea Steed," Gunhild volunteered.
I had feared we were tarrying too long on our voyage home from Frankia. The night of the duel in Paris, after I’d killed Snorre, some of our sentries had reported to Ragnar that a ship had left its mooring and was headed downriver in the dark. It had not taken long to determine that it was the Sea Steed. Snorre’s crew had slunk away to their ship and fled. No doubt most of them had been with Toke and Snorre up on the Limfjord, among the party that had burned the longhouse there and killed my brother Harald and his men. Perhaps they’d feared, after Hastein had exposed the treachery of their attack, that they, too, might be in danger. I’d urged Hastein to pursue them, but he had not wished to leave Frankia ahead of the main fleet.
"What happened when the ship came?" I asked.
"I do not know what news it brought, but Toke was very upset," Fasti answered. I glanced at Gunhild. She added nothing, but glared back at me defiantly. She had regained some of her composure and was acting more like herself now.
"And then?" I prompted.
"Toke was very upset," Fasti repeated. "Many of us felt his wrath."
I turned to Gunhild. "Do you know what news the ship brought?"
She did not answer. "Do you know where the ship had been?" I asked. I knew the answer, of course, but I wondered how much she knew. Still she remained silent.
Hastein stepped forward until he loomed over her. Although he’d removed his helm, he was still wearing his mail brynie and his sword, slung by its baldric over his shoulder. His left hand was resting lightly now on its hilt at his hip. He snapped, "Speak, woman! You are wasting our time."
Gunhild flinched. An angry jarl, dressed for war, is admittedly an intimidating sight. "I know that the ship had been raiding in Frankia. With the fleet that sailed against the Franks last spring. Its captain was a man named Snorre. He was one of Toke’s most trusted men." She paused for a moment, then added, "He did not return with the ship."
At that, I smiled a grim smile. Hastein continued questioning Gunhild.
"What news did the ship from Frankia bring? Did Toke tell you?"
Gunhild shook her head. "I do not know. I swear it. Toke insisted on speaking with its crew in private. He sent everyone out of the longhouse while he did. Even me. But whatever news they brought him, as the thrall said, Toke was very upset by it."
I could well imagine. I asked Gunhild, "Do you know what happened to the ship’s captain, Snorre?"
"Only that he died in Frankia."
"I killed him, Gunhild," I told her. Her eyes widened. "I cut his throat," I added. She looked at Hastein, alarmed.
He shrugged. "It was in a fair fight. A duel. With witnesses. Many witnesses. I was among them. As were all the men here with us this day."
There was a question I had long wanted an answer to.
"What do you know of how Harald died, Gunhild? He and his men?"
The change of subject took Gunhild by surprise, and obviously disturbed her. Again she glanced at Hastein, as if looking for support, but she found none in his cold gaze.
"I…I know nothing," she stammered.
"Nothing?"
"Only what Toke told us. That the farm up on the Limfjord where Harald had gone was attacked by bandits, and all its folk, including Harald and his men, were slain."
"All of Harald’s men were slain? Including me?"
"That is what Toke said." Gunhild looked confused. And worried.
"How did Toke say he knew this?" I asked her.
"He said he’d been sailing through the Limfjord, heading back to Ireland, and by chance happened to be camped for the night not far from the farm when it was attacked. He told us the longhouse had been burned by the bandits in the attack, and he and his men saw the flames and went to investigate. He said he was able to catch and kill most of the attackers, and avenge Harald’s death."
I’d wondered how, when he’d returned to the estate, Toke would have explained his presence at the site of the attack. Certainly Sigrid and Ubbe, knowing the ill will Toke had long felt toward Harald, and of the recent conflict between them, should have been suspicious. So he’d claimed he was on the Limfjord because he was heading back to Ireland. That was a twist I had not expected. It even sounded plausible. Toke was a clever liar.
I turned my head and spat upon the floor of the longhouse to show my disgust with the story, and with Gunhild for believing it. Hastein scowled at me disapprovingly. In truth, it was ill-mannered of me, but I did not care.
Gunhild looked indignant. "How dare you! Toke himself was wounded when he sought to avenge Harald’s death, and many of his men were slain in the fighting."
"Wounded?" Hastein asked. "How?"
"He was struck by an arrow in his chest, when he and his men attacked the bandits. It pierced his mail."
Toke the hero, wounded while fighting those who’d caused Harald’s death. Winning honor for himself by claiming to avenge murders that, in truth, he himself had committed. I turned my head and spat on the floor again. "Halfdan!" Hastein snapped.
"Do you not wonder, Gunhild, that I am still alive? That I am here, standing before you this day?" I asked her.
"I do not understand it," she admitted.
"There were no bandits. It was Toke and his warriors who attacked the farm on the Limfjord. It was they who killed Harald and his men. And they killed every woman, child, and thrall on the farm, as well. Only I escaped."
"I do not believe you! You are lying. You have always hated Toke. He is a great chieftain and you are…you were…but a thrall."
"That still troubles me," Ivar remarked to Bjorn. "How can one who was a slave for almost his entire life fight so well now? It should not be possible. I find it worrisome."
I igno
red him. "There were no bandits," I said again. "It was my arrow that wounded Toke. I wish it had killed him."
Hrodgar stepped forward and spoke to Gunhild. "You do not remember me, but we have met before. I am the headman of the village on the Limfjord that lies just down from the farm that was attacked. We met when Hrorik brought you north to visit his lands there, after the two of you wed. What Halfdan says is true. My men and I reached the farm not long after the attack against it had ended. The longhouse had been burned to the ground, and all of its people had been slain. Toke and his men were there. He told us, too, that there were bandits. He told us Harald and some of his men had been at the longhouse—we had not known that—and that they had been slain by the bandits. But it was all lies. One of his own warriors later confessed to the truth of what happened. Niddingsvaark was done that night on the Limfjord by Toke and his men."
My anger had fanned the flames of Gunhild’s own in return, but Hrodgar’s quiet voice drained it from her, and his words seemed to suck the very life from her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, and, murmuring, "Toke, Toke, what have you done?" turned and staggered away from us. When she reached a bed-closet—the one that once had been my mother’s, and brieflymine—she pulled its door open and collapsed inside.
We still did not know what had happened here, at the estate. Turning back to Fasti, I asked, "How long ago did Toke leave?"
"Two days. No, no, three. It was three days ago."
"That is unfortunate," Ivar said to Bjorn. "We laid over for three days at Hastein’s estate, resting and feasting after the voyage from Frankia. If we had not.…"
"What happened with Sigrid and Ubbe?" I asked Fasti.
"I did not see it. I was out in the fields at the time. Most of the menfolk of the household, free and thrall, were there, too. We were harvesting hay. But I know that it started with Astrid."
"Who is this Astrid?" Hastein asked him. In his voice I could hear the same growing impatience with Fasti that I, too, was feeling.
I answered. "She is Sigrid’s maid-servant. She is a thrall."
From the high table, Bjorn called out. "And who is Sigrid?"
I turned toward him. "She is my brother Harald’s sister. They were born together. She is his twin. She is my half-sister."
Bjorn looked exasperated. "What does she have to do with anything?" he grumbled to Ivar. "What has Hastein dragged us into?"
I was growing weary of trying to pry information out of Fasti. Perhaps Astrid could tell a clearer story.
The folk of the estate were huddled down at the end of the main hall that was closest to the animals’ byre, seated together on the long benches lining the side walls, with Tore and another of our warriors watching over them. Once we had searched the longhouse and made certain that Toke and his men were truly gone, Hastein had ordered them to go there and wait. "I will fetch Astrid," I told Hastein, and strode down the hall toward them.
"I am looking for Astrid," I called out, as I approached. "I need to speak with her."
The faces of those along the benches all turned toward me, but at first no one among them responded. Finally a sturdily built man with brown hair and beard stood up and walked down to where a woman was seated, almost at the end of the hall. She hung her head and cowered as he drew near.
"It is all right, girl," he told her. "These men mean you no harm." Turning to me, he said, "She is here."
I walked over to them. The man stared at me curiously.
"You really are the boy, aren’t you?" he said. Seeing me scowl, he added, "I mean no offense. You’re clearly a boy no longer. But you are the one who was Hrorik’s son, by the Irish woman, the thrall. The one he freed and acknowledged just before he died."
He did not even know my mother’s name. She had been just a slave to him. As I had been, until Hrorik had freed me.
He continued. "My name is Gudfred. I was with Hrorik and Harald on their last voyage to England."
"Yes," I said. "I remember you." It was somewhat of an exaggeration. His face was vaguely familiar—I knew he was one of the carls who lived and worked on the estate, and had served Hrorik as one of his warriors—but I had not remembered his name. After I was freed and Harald had taken me under his care, he’d made a point of trying to teaching me the names of all of the free folk who lived on the estate. Before then—when I was still a slave—there were many, including this man Gudfred, whose names I had never known, as they, no doubt, had not known mine. Gudfred had been one of Hrorik’s followers, one of his housecarls, for years. For most of my life, that was all he’d been to me, as I had been just a slave, one of the estate’s thralls, to him.
"Toke said you were dead," he continued. "He said you’d been killed with Harald, and Ulf, and Rolf, and the others. Up on the Limfjord, in the attack by the bandits."
"Toke lied."
Gudfred grunted. "About you, at least, so it would seem. And Harald?"
"There were no bandits. Toke and his warriors attacked the longhouse in the night. They burned it. They killed Harald and his men, and all the folk of the farm, too. I alone escaped."
"Gods! And he was here, living among us all these months. After Snorre left for Frankia with most of his men, he would have been at our mercy. If only we had known."
"We—the chieftains who have come here, and I—need to know what happened here, and where Toke has gone," I told him. "I was told Astrid was involved."
"Aye," Gudfred answered. "She was. But getting the tale from her will not be easy. She has not spoken much these last few days. I saw it all. I can tell you."
I looked more closely at Astrid. She was still huddled over, her head averted, her long hair hanging loose and hiding her face.
"Astrid?" I said. "I am Halfdan. Don’t you remember me?"
She slowly straightened up and looked at me. Had I not been told who she was, I would not have recognized her. Her face looked gaunt, with deep, dark hollows under her eyes, one of which was swollen almost shut. A dark bruise covered that side of her face. Her gaze was unfocused. "Is Harald here?" she whispered. "Has he returned?"
I shook my head. "No, Astrid. He is not here. He is gone."
She hung her head again.
"Come, then," I said to Gudfred, and we walked in silence back to where Hastein and the others were waiting.
Gudfred began his tale at its beginning, back when Toke had first returned to the estate from the Limfjord.
"There were none of us among the carls living here who much liked him," he explained. "We’d all followed Hrorik for many years, and had known Toke as he was growing up. We all knew what he could be like. We remembered why Hrorik had thrown him out. And we’d all been here when he’d come back earlier this year, when the ill will between him and Harald had almost caused blood to be spilled. Had we come to blows on that night, I, for one, would gladly have stuck a spear in Toke myself.
"We live here because we followed Hrorik. We were his men. And we were glad to follow Harald, too—he was a brave man, and a fine warrior. But when Toke came back, and told us Harald was dead.…"
Gudfred was silent for a few moments. He shook his head and started again. "Toke was the only heir, then, you see? This estate, these lands, became his. We could choose to stay on the land, if he agreed, and if we were willing to follow him. Or we could choose to go. When Toke first came backand told us the estate was now his, more than a few of us—I among them—were seriously considering leaving. It would have been hard on our families, though.
"But Toke seemed a changed man. He clearly wanted us to stay, and to accept him as our chieftain, and he worked at earning our good will and respect. Some of his crew were a rough lot, and there were minor troubles at first between us and a few of them—arguments, mostly, but once or twice men came to blows. But Toke made it clear to his men from the start that he considered us their equals in every way, and he showed them no special favors or treatment.
"His man Snorre was a hard oneto like—he seemed to enjoy stirring up trouble
—but after he left to join the big raid on Frankia, and took most of Toke’s men with him, things here settled down. Only a few of Toke’s men stayed here. Most that did had been wounded, like Toke had, fighting the bandits up on the Limfjord."
"There were no bandits," I said. "I have already told you. I shot the arrow that wounded Toke."
Gudfred shrugged. "We did not know."
"We want to know where Toke is," Ivar said. He sounded impatient. "Where did he go? Back to Ireland?"
Gudfred shook his head. "East. To Birka. That is where he said he was going."
"Why did he leave here?" Hastein asked. "What happened?"
"His ship, the Sea Steed, returned from Frankia. Its captain, his man Snorre, wasn’t on it. Toke went aboard and spoke briefly with the crew as soon as the ship made land. I’d gone down to the shore to meet the ship, as had a number of our folk. Toke started cursing almost as soon as he went on board. Then he ordered everyone out of the longhouse, and he and the Sea Steed's crew went inside. They stayed there, and spoke in private, until almost dusk. When the rest of us were finally allowed back in to go about our business, Toke was well on his way to being drunk, and was in a foul temper."
"What happened with Sigrid, and with Ubbe?" I asked.
"It started over the girl, Astrid," Gudfred replied. "When Toke had first come back to the estate, he had tried to take her to his bed. She was afraid of him, and didn't want to go. He and Sigrid had argued then about it. He said he was the master of the estate now, and had the right to bed any of its thralls. But Sigrid stood up to him, told him Astrid was her slave, not his, and Toke backed down. He didn't want trouble, back then. He wanted us, all of us, to accept him. And besides, there were other female thralls.
"But that night, the night the Sea Steed returned, Toke changed. He was in one of his black moods, like the old Toke again. After the meal, he walked over to the hearth, grabbed Astrid by the arm, and started dragging her to his bed chamber. Sigrid ran in front of them—she has courage, that's for certain—and told him to let the girl go. But Toke just shouted at her to get out of his way. He told her if she didn't, it would be worse for the girl, and for her. He said something more, too, but in a lower voice so the rest of us couldn't hear. Sigrid stepped aside then and let them pass. I saw her face just afterward. She looked afraid.
The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) Page 2
