Banners of the Northmen

by Jerry Autieri

  Toki entered along with a few other interested men. The slave's eyes darted between the new arrivals. "Why didn't he call for help?" Toki asked as he came in. "We might've left him here."

  "Exactly," Ulfrik said, pulling on the bindings. "Better off chancing the ropes to break than giving himself over to us. Isn't that right?"

  Ulfrik drew a knife and began cutting away the ropes. The slave had nowhere to escape, whether he knew it or not. The slave's hands came free, and he immediately began massaging them. Ulfrik chuckled.

  "Don't get too used to freedom. I don't normally take slaves but we didn't get much for our efforts." Ulfrik grabbed his arm and started to guide him to the door when he started speaking. The words sounded familiar, as if he should understand them. He noticed Toki's surprised expression, then realized the slave was speaking heavily accented Norse.

  "You can understand me, slave?"

  "Yeah, understanding. Humbert is still slave, no? Humbert freedom wants."

  Ulfrik laughed, both from the accent and the request. "But the gods do not want freedom for you. So when they give it, I will be first among men to congratulate you. Now come with me, and be good. I won't be hard on you."

  The men in the byre doorway chuckled, though Toki remained impassive. "You know Runa will not approve of taking a slave."

  "He is already a slave," Ulfrik said. "Besides, he's a priest or a noble of some sort. Just look at him. We can ransom him to someone. He will be free and we will get a little richer."

  "Or we'll be stuck with another mouth to feed."

  "Then he'll go to the slave block," Ulfrik snapped. "What do you want me to do? He's a slave and we are free. When the gods wanted us free, they made us so. Same for this one. Runa will have to accept it, just stop worrying about it."

  He pulled the slave, who called himself Humbert, which sounded Frankish to Ulfrik's ears. But Humbert pulled back, pointing at the ground. Ulfrik, his patience worn out, hissed and yanked Humbert forward. He yelped, and renewed his tug of war while still pointing at the floor.

  "Please, master!" Humbert said. "On the ground, my cloak. Please!"

  Ulfrik rolled his eyes and hauled Humbert out of the byre, flinging him through the door. He toppled like a child's doll, crashing into Einar who refused to step aside. The crew's laughter drowned out Humbert's pleas. He knelt in the grass, pointing at the byre with tears streaming down his face.

  "Please, my father's cloak. Dear father. My father's cloak is all Humbert has. Please, just a small rag for Humbert. Please, master!"

  Ulfrik's anger increased at the needless humiliation he had inflicted on the slave. He hated his sympathy for Humbert, but could not escape that weakness. He had suffered the disgrace of slavery and knew the pain this man felt. Some day slavery would bring him worse suffering, but at least Ulfrik would not be the originator of it. He felt his face growing hot as the others mocked Humbert's weeping.

  "If you don't stop crying, I'll ram the fucking cloak down your throat!" Not the soothing words of a kind man, he knew. "Toki, fetch it for him. The rest of you, leave the poor bastard alone and let him have his cloak."

  Toki handed Ulfrik the cloak, and he flung it on the tearful Humbert, who snatched it and rubbed his smiling face over it like a lost lover.

  "I don't think he's going to be much use to us," Toki said as he watched Humbert weep with joy. "Why did you let him have the cloak?"

  "I don't know. Before I met you, a hirdman of mine had lost his whole family to my brother, and after that wherever he went he carried a bearskin blanket that belonged to them. This reminds me of it. Anyway, if it shuts him up then let him keep it. We've a long journey home."

  CHAPTER TWO

  The blue strip of the southern island of the Faereyar grew on the horizon as Ulfrik stood in the prow of Raven's Talon. Gone for nearly two weeks, he anticipated reunion with his family. Sea spray wet his face and beard and the bracing air filled his lungs. Dolphins leapt through the waters as if in greeting. He stepped down from the prow, the sail full and cracking above his head. He smiled at Toki, who piloted the ship. It has been his since Ulfrik first met him, and no one else ever laid a hand on the tiller if he was aboard. He seemed equally eager to return home.

  Towing the raiders' captured ship slowed the return journey to Nye Grenner. Ulfrik had taken great pains to hide along the coastal islands, realizing a towed ship was a beacon to other pirates seeking two fat prizes for one attack. Fortunately, numerous islands sprayed the northern coast of Norway with ample concealment. Once he hit the open sea, lookouts kept watch for following sails that never appeared.

  Within the hour, the rolling slopes of Nye Grenner appeared. Despite strong winds, columns of white hearth smoke lifted over the green turf roofs of the village. His home and hall stood at the highest point of a slope that swept up from the beach, built on a strategic location that limited attackers' approach to the hall. The placement had saved it more than once, and Ulfrik believed it still discouraged enemies from trying its famous killing fields.

  He waved from the prow along with others of his crew not busy with rigging or the sails. Everyone lined the shore in greeting. His heart beat faster, both from the excitement of returning and the anxiety of disappointing treasure. Runa's chiding words still echoed in his head. You can't run after every promise of gold with no better proof than a stranger's say-so. While others would see a captured ship and be mollified for a time, Ulfrik knew Runa would cut through his bluster with the keenness of a new blade.

  He hated admitting she had been right. She almost always was right, and it drove him mad even if she was careful not to dwell on it. In fact, he wished she would so he could latch onto an excuse to become angry with her.

  Raven's Talon glided into dock to the applause and cheers of the assembled families. He spied Runa observing from higher up the slope, his second son Hakon sleeping on her shoulder while Gunnar stood close to her side. Groups of wives, siblings, and mothers shouted the names of their men. Ulfrik appreciated their worries, since many who go a-viking never return. The crew threw ropes to the boys on the dock and they lashed these around poles. The towed ship, a small vessel, bumped against Raven's Talon and jostled everyone aboard. One man fell off the rails into the shallows to the shouts and laughter of those watching.

  Ulfrik met Runa's small smile and Gunnar's placid, almost disinterested gaze. Hakon's tuft of golden hair showed beneath the wool blanket swaddling him. Spirits lifted, he drew his breath and jumped to the docks. Several people rushed forward to greet him, patting his shoulders and welcoming him home. Ulfrik made a show of what little wealth he had carried back from the raid, throwing a sack of the silver plates over his shoulder. He had padded it with rocks to make it appear bigger to the casual eye. People needed to see success.

  Wading through the press of welcoming arms, he arrived before Runa and Gunnar. She cooed to Hakon, rousing him from his sleep. Weeks away from home had refreshed his sight of her, and Runa's clear face bought a smile to his own.

  "Welcome home," she said, a smile struggling to escape. She nudged Gunnar, who looked more like his mother each day. "Go on and welcome your father home."

  Ulfrik dropped his sack of treasures and opened his arms for his son. Gunnar walked carefully, as if a hundred eyes followed him, then ran the last few paces and embraced Ulfrik. "Welcome home, Father."

  "You've been good, lad. Protected your mother and brother while I was away?" He pulled back and ruffled Gunnar's hair, who nodded dutifully. "So let me see your mother, and ensure she is well."

  Ulfrik slid to Runa's side, kissing her. "How I've missed you. It took longer than I thought."

  "And you are well? No new wounds?" She leaned back, examining his face and brushing a few scabs and bruises suffered in the raid. Hakon shifted on her shoulder, raising his head a moment before sleeping again.

  "Hakon sleeps for his father's return?" Ulfrik laughed as he peered into the swaddled bundle. His second son was barely a year old, ever hungry and
sleepy. As much as Gunnar resembled his mother, Hakon's young face was Ulfrik's.

  "He was awake all morning. You were late in returning." Runa shunted Hakon higher on her shoulder, then flashed the playful smile he had long missed.

  "And we will be up late reuniting, that's a promise."

  "Did you bring back great treasure, Father?" Gunnar interrupted them, standing on his toes to check on his younger brother.

  "Of course," Ulfrik said, his voice so full with false confidence that Runa frowned at him. "Look at the docks. Men are unloading their treasures now."

  Clusters of hugging families milled and clumped before the two ships. The captured ship bobbed next to Raven's Talon, where crewmen stowed the sail while others threw the few sacks of treasure onto the beach. Toki supervised the work as he had no one to greet him, his wife, Halla, still in the north with her mother. As Ulfrik and Runa watched, Toki tugged the slave Humbert to his feet and directed him onto the dock.

  "Who's that?" Runa asked, her voice tightening.

  "A slave we found, probably a Frankish priest or skald, definitely not a worker or warrior." Ulfrik did not look at Runa, but studied Humbert's clumsy fall over the rails to the dock. Landing in front of a crewman securing the ship, Humbert received a derisive kick before he could regain his feet. Ulfrik winced.

  "What you do when you're a-viking is your concern," she said, forcing evenness into her tone. "But I've told you not to take slaves into our home."

  "He was already a slave when we found him."

  "Don't twist words, Ulfrik. You know my meaning."

  "I do, but, well, we probably shouldn't discuss this out here with everyone around."

  "No one is listening to us; they're all wrapped up with family. What you want to tell me is that you didn't find the king's ransom you hoped for."

  Ulfrik's vision skipped from the warm scene of reuniting families, landing on the far horizon. It tugged at his heart, beckoning him to sail to it and discover greatness and honor, a new land with opportunity. Yet he felt Runa's eyes on him, drawing his thoughts back to the far-flung island of grass he called home.

  "No, we did not find what we were promised."

  Their eyes remained locked above the head of their son. His head tilted in challenge, daring her to berate him for the danger and expense of the raid. Whatever showed in his eyes caused hers to falter. Instead she sighed and stroked Gunnar's head. "But you found something at least, and captured a ship. Most important is you have returned unharmed."

  "Unharmed but no better off." Ulfrik nodded at Humbert as Toki led him over. "If I can find out where he's from, I'll ransom him back, and if I can't ..."

  Runa gave a curt nod, but the flash of her dark eyes told Ulfrik the matter had not been settled. She understood slavery and its place in the world. Some men were born to it and could know nothing more. But she had long ago made it clear to Ulfrik she disapproved of his reducing freemen to slavery, as had been inflicted on her. Ulfrik had hoped since Humbert was an old man and a foreigner he would elicit less empathy from her.

  Toki arrived with Humbert in tow. For a moment he forgot the slave and knelt to embrace Gunnar, who ran to him with a shout of excitement. Laughing with Gunnar clinging to his side, he held his arm out for Runa to slip beneath for a welcoming hug. He ruffled Hakon's hair, eliciting an irritated protest which Toki laughed off. Ulfrik studied Humbert's reaction. He clutched his cloak tight as his narrow head scanned the scene, undisguised disgust and disdain wrinkled his face. Ulfrik chuckled at the irony of the woman who he regarded with such repulsion would rather set him free than sell him.

  "So we're back, and with an extra empty stomach." Toki pointed with his chin at Humbert. "Where does he go? Lock him up?"

  "He'll serve us in the hall. He can grab a corner of it for himself. Just make sure he doesn't handle any knives when my family is there. Do you understand me, Humbert?"

  His dark eyes snapped to Ulfrik's with a hint of annoyance, but then he smiled. "Master Alfuk sends Humbert to the hall, no?"

  "Ulfrik," he repeated his name clearly, even as Gunnar snickered. "If you get one word right, make it my name. Toki will show you to your new home. Later we talk about a ransom for you."

  Humbert's brows stitched together as if confused, but Ulfrik wanted him out of the way. "You'll understand soon enough. Take him, Toki."

  With Humbert gone, Runa placed her hand on Ulfrik's shoulder. "He's a Christian priest, no doubt. Same arrogance of the Irish monks or my dear common-law sister."

  "Whatever he is, he's probably the best I got out of this whole raid. The silver will be divided out, but I keep the ship and him. He'd better be worth something."

  He watched the priest stagger after Toki, his red wool cloak dragging wearily behind him. Runa sniffed.

  "His eyes are unkind," she said. "He'll not be worth the trouble he will bring us."

  Seated with Ulfrik at the high table, Snorri scratched his stomach beneath his shirt one more time. Ulfrik watched his old friend pick and rake, frown, then scratch again. Ulfrik laughed, looked around at Einar seated to his left and several other men dotted throughout the low light of the hall. A guttering hearth fire threw deep shadows into the creases of Ulfrik's smile.

  "You'll rip a hole in your gut if you keep at it," he said, drawing chuckles from the gathered men. Snorri looked up bemused.

  "It's nothing; just no one to clean my clothes since Gerdie passed last winter. These filthy clothes itch me all day."

  He patted off his stomach and adjusted his shirt while Ulfrik's smile faded. The last three winters had been brutal, killing the old and weak. Mention of Gerdie's death clouded the mood, but Snorri displayed none of his usual tact. Age had roughened his polish.

  "Yeah, she was a fine woman, and I miss her every day. It's Fate, after all. I'm not complaining, but wish we had more years together. My bed's so cold now. Tough winters."

  Ulfrik drew his mug across the table and drained the last of the summer mead into his mouth. Finishing the summer brew had been the purpose of the gathering. Snorri's comments left the hall darker and quieter, each man reflecting on their losses.

  Three nights had passed since returning from the raid. His crew still lingered at the hall before returning to their farms, only a fraction regularly quartered at the barracks as a standing guard. Most of them had returned wealthier than when they had left, but not enough to justify the risk to their lives. Ulfrik watched them now, in pairs or small groups muttering in low voices. Thrand had taken his drink and left early, to Ulfrik's relief. His drunken ravings had become increasingly intolerable.

  Winters had turned harsh in recent years, and everyone counted losses in their families. Runa had delivered a daughter, a golden-haired child they called Brida. But the infant fell ill and died in her first winter. Halla had given Toki two sons, both dead within months of birth. Snorri's wife had not passed from the world alone.

  A sudden movement broke Ulfrik's moody ruminations. Someone had dragged Humbert from his corner at the back of the hall, yelling at him to serve the high table. Humbert fell away, shot a deathly glare at the man, then approached the high table. Slavery did not sit well with him, and he did nothing unless forced. Now he reluctantly stood before Ulfrik, a sour expression demonstrating his distaste.

  "The master needs Humbert?"

  "I didn't call for you," Ulfrik said, sitting up straighter on his bench. "I think we're just sick of watching you relax all day. You need to be kissing my feet so I don't decide to make you tend flocks or harvest hay. Work in the hall is easy, but you won't even do that much."

  Humbert's scowl softened and he tightened his cloak around his neck.

  "Since we're all gathered, let's talk about Humbert's ransom." Ulfrik banged the table, earning the attention of his men. "Come up here and let's hear what this slave can get us."

  Humbert's head tossed about, eyes wide and brows raised. Ulfrik laughed, letting the arrogant man suffer a moment's confusion. Toki joined him at the high
table, slapping Ulfrik's shoulder as he sat. Others resettled closer to Humbert as Ulfrik gestured to him.

  "You're a terrible slave, Humbert. You're a waste of my food and mead, and a stinking bed for lice in my hall. I'd like you better if you were a woman, and about thirty years younger." Chuckles followed and Humbert's face reddened. "So I want to get rid of you. I can sell your hide at the slave market in Dublin. But the journey would cost me more than your ancient body will earn. So tell me where I can ransom you."

  Ulfrik stared into Humbert's eyes, prepared to judge his next words carefully.

  "Ransom is not possible for poor old Humbert." He bowed his head, picking at the hem of his cloak.

  "You're a Christian priest or a rich man, both the same as far as I know. Someone must want you back. Tell me where I can ransom you. Don't tell me it's not possible."

  Humbert shook his head again. Snorri leaned forward on the table, peering through slitted eyes.

  "He's a fucking liar," he announced. "Listen, slave, your eyes betray you. Look at me and tell me you can't be ransomed. Look at me!"

  Humbert jumped and Ulfrik smiled at the spark of the old Snorri he remembered. Hesitantly meeting Snorri's gaze, Humbert explained himself.

  "I am a priest; God forgive me for hiding it. But it is true, Humbert cannot be ransomed. Humbert is a wanted man now."

  Ulfrik exchanged glances with Snorri and Toki. The deepening shadows of the dying hearth fire lent a graveness to the statement, as if the darkness conspired to hide Humbert's secret.

  "Wanted is good," Toki said. "We ransom him back to whoever is after him."

  "No!" Humbert's hands flew out to implore Ulfrik. "No! Humbert's from a faraway place where Northman cannot go."

  The hall erupted with laughter; Humbert spun around to wave down their laughter.

  "Humbert is true. Can the Northman enter Paris? That is Humbert's home, where the bishop is Humbert's enemy. He sold Humbert to the Northman so that they will take him far away and never return. The bishop will not want Humbert back, will not pay gold to see Humbert again."