Banners of the Northmen

by Jerry Autieri

  After Sigfrid recovered and the boy translated, he continued. "Some of you are clever men. That is excellent, since I'm certain clever men must also be reasonable men. You see the ships filling your river. There are thirty thousand warriors at my back. Go ahead and tell them. I want to see their faces."

  The boy rushed his translation, emphasizing parts of his babble. Ulfrik admired the young boy's pliant mind, for he doubted his own ability to learn foreign tongues. Odo and Joscelin both nodded, but betrayed nothing. Ulfrik instead studied the guards, whose expression told more. Fear and terror passed across their faces. They attempted to mask them, but widened eyes, hard swallows, and tight lips betrayed them. Hearing of their enemies, the guards took furtive glances to the distance where ships bobbed at anchor. Ulfrik sneered and turned his chin up at them, letting them know he feared nothing.

  "Count Odo wishes to understand what Lord Sigfrid desires."

  "Is he getting this right?" Sigfrid turned to his own interpreter, who nodded. Assured, Sigfrid raised his voice and spoke at a level of courtesy Ulfrik could never imagine possible from such a brute. He bowed his head low, and spoke directly to Abbot Joscelin.

  "Have compassion on yourself and on your people. We beg you to listen to us, in order that you may escape death. Allow us freedom of the city. We will do no harm and we will assure that whatever belongs either to you or to Odo shall be strictly respected."

  The boy translated into Odo's ear, while Abbot Joscelin required no assistance. Instead, he bowed his head, and used the same respectful language. "Merely freedom of the city? When the great Jarl Sigfrid last visited us, he demanded a large tribute."

  "Of course," Sigfrid said, as if just recalling a trifling point. "The tribute still stands. Seven hundred pounds of silver will see to the safety of Paris. I give you my word, which is worth more than silver or gold."

  Count Odo deepened his snarl as the boy fed him the translated words, though Joscelin stood composed. He smiled and inclined his head as he replied, placing a firm hand on the ever-angering Count Odo's arm.

  "The Emperor Charles, who, after God, is king and ruler of nearly all the world, has entrusted Paris to us. He has put it in our care, not that the kingdom may be ruined by our misconduct, but that he may keep it and be assured of its peace. If you had been given the same duty of defending this city, and if you were to do that which you ask of us, what treatment do you suppose we would deserve?"

  The clear notes of the abbot's warm and deep voice gripped Ulfrik's attention. Such a voice and manner of language was seldom heard beyond the skalds of the great jarls. The abbot's words had even stilled Sigfrid to a thoughtful silence. As if waking to his senses, he shook his head and glanced at Hrolf before answering.

  "I'd deserve to have my head cut off and thrown to the dogs. Nevertheless, if you do not listen to my demands, by tomorrow my war machines will destroy your walls and my men will raze your city. Your wives and daughters will pleasure us, and your boys will be slaves to row our ships. All others will die. I promise there will be no end to this, for every day that a Dane breathes, your people will suffer."

  The veneer of politeness shattered, Sigfrid's posture tightened and he drew himself taller. The Frankish guards began to lower their spears at the threat, but the abbot held up his hand. "Then you have your answer. God protects us and God will drive your ships back to the lands of ice and snow in sorrow and despair."

  The groups stared at each other, Ulfrik searching the resolve of Abbot Joscelin. Humbert had not named his enemy, but Ulfrik held no doubt this fierce and intelligent man was the one. He turned with the confident finality of a king leaving a beggar to grovel for mercy and shoved through his guards. Odo lingered and cursed them in his language, which Sigfrid's Frankish traitor translated, "By tomorrow you will suck the devil's prick in hell."

  As both parties pulled away, Sigfrid began to laugh and rubbed his hands together. "At last! It'll feel better taking the silver out of their hides anyway. Tomorrow, it's war!"

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Thrand's temples pounded as he drained his skin of ale while idling on the deck of Raven's Talon. Ulfrik had disappeared beyond his sight, gone to glorify himself with the mighty jarls. Raven's Talon bobbed placidly in the shallows of the river bank. Surrounding her on the river and on the shore were enough ships to make it appear as if the Seine had disappeared beneath them, their masts like black spines on the back of a river-sized dragon. Thrand did not care if Paris would be a tough fight. He was not planning to remain for it. He did worry that Humbert and his treasures would slip through his hands, dooming him to a life of servitude and poverty under Ulfrik.

  He decided to ensure that would not happen.

  Most of the Raven's Talon crew had drained away. Humbert sat against the gunwales with his head down and tethered to the mast by a rope long enough to span the deck but no farther. He could untie or cut the rope, of course, but his guards would prevent it. By now, sitting idly on benches and consumed in their thoughts, only Snorri and Einar remained. Mord, Gunther's son, had left to find old friends.

  Einar picked his nose, examined the results, then flicked it away. Snorri appeared about to doze off. Both men pitied Thrand, and though pity offended him, he knew it could also be a useful tool. If he could get them off the ship, even for a short time, he could work on Humbert.

  "So we are the last three men to listen to Toki's orders," he grumbled as he sauntered over to Einar's bench. "Even he didn't follow his own command, but left the ship."

  Einar grumbled but otherwise stared ahead at nothing. Thrand sat on the bench beside him, glancing at Humbert who appeared as listless as everyone else.

  With Snorri half asleep, Einar was the natural choice. He had sailed with Thrand and witnessed his brother's death. He barely had his beard then, but over the intervening years he had grown a head taller than everyone and developed incredible strength. Unlike most other strong men, he was not dim but in fact a quick thinker. However, Thrand knew how to work him.

  "Toki's been strange, don't you think? The little half-jarl has been eager to find himself elsewhere," Thrand said. Einar raised a brow and Snorri opened an eye to glare at him. "You know what I think? He's fucking a slave girl or some whore."

  "Any more shit falls out of that mouth and I'm going to slam it shut." Snorri did not move, and closed his eye as if his threat had settled matters.

  "Then where's he going all the time? And what is he so happy about? I have a right to know. My brother didn't die so he could plow any cunt he wants. Toki defied the gods for his wife, and we paid the price to help him do it."

  The words delivered the sting he had hoped. Both of the men knew they had a part in the shame Toki's actions brought them. He saw it in Einar's averted eyes, and Snorri's exaggerated indifference.

  "You shouldn't speak of what you don't know," Einar said, too softly to mean it. Thrand felt the smile tremble on his lips. These fools were too easy.

  "Then maybe I should go find out. I'll go right now and no doubt I'll catch him with his naked ass in the air, somewhere in the woods." He waved generally at the dark line of bare trees, then stood as if to leave. As expected, Snorri barred him with his leg.

  "Sit down and don't make trouble. Tomorrow we may all be dead at the foot of those walls, so let him have his fun today."

  "So even you think it's true. Well, for any other man I agree with you, but not Toki. It's not just my brother's blood for Toki's lusts, but my friend Bork. And it doesn't stop with him; what about all the others dead in the war with Hardar? And still his cousins attack us. Maybe Skard and Thorod are burning our homes now. All because Toki wanted to fuck a jarl's daughter. Maybe he's found the wife of a jarl now, and is ..."

  Snorri's hair was gray, his cheeks hollowed, and skin hung lose under his neck, but he pounced with the speed of a young man. Thrand hurled back as Snorri's fist plowed into his gut, squeezing all the air from his lungs. He stumbled over the bench and thudded to the deck. Snorri followed,
straddling him with his fist extended in challenge.

  "Warned you that I'd break your shit-spilling mouth if you kept at it. Now shut up and keep your ale-fogged thoughts to yourself. Gods, man! We could be going to war any moment, and men need confidence in their leaders. Don't bring doubt to battle, you oaf."

  Were it not for being breathless, Thrand would have laughed at the ease of manipulating the two men. Einar now stood beside his stepfather, a frown tight over his face.

  "All right," Thrand said, holding out his hands as if to defend against another blow. "But just let me go see for myself. And you should know these words are not just mine. The others have said as much."

  "And who fed them those words?" Snorri asked.

  "This is the first I've spoke of it. Do you think all the others are fools? Toki certainly does."

  Snorri paused, then softened his stance. He stepped back, and Einar extended his thick arm to help Thrand stand. He dusted himself off, then waited for what he knew would come next. He was not disappointed.

  "I'll check on him," Snorri said, rubbing is face. "If he's fooling around, I'll ask him to at least be more careful about it."

  "I'll go too," Einar said. "Better chances to catch him if we split up."

  "Then who will stay with Humbert?" Thrand tried not to overact his frustration. "I want to see this with my own eyes."

  "And you don't trust mine? You'll only worsen matters if you catch him, and if you find out he's innocent you'll try to make trouble. So stay with Humbert. We won't be long." Snorri nodded to Einar that they should leave. Thrand made as if to protest, but Snorri rounded on him. "Just stay here and I'll tell you what we learn."

  He watched as they leapt into the shallows and waded to the shore teeming with people. Once they slipped into the crowd, he turned to Humbert, who still slouched in the shadows of the gunwales. He wore a sardonic smile, and his dark eyes followed Thrand with keen interest. Sitting on the deck before Humbert, Thrand slipped his sax from its sheath. Humbert's eyes did not waver.

  "Well, priest, it's just us two now." He let the point of his sax thunk into the deck, palming the hilt so sunlight flashed off the blade. "No one else around, and I think it's time you shared your secrets with me."

  The ship rocked and a splash of water came from behind. Thrand turned to see Kolbyr hauling himself aboard the ship. His cheery countenance was at odds with Thrand's frown. He joined Thrand, dripping water across the deck. "I thought you might be talking to our friend, and didn't want to miss out."

  "Or were you planning on finding Humbert alone?"

  "Of course not!" Kolbyr's face widened in a smile. "We are partners."

  Humbert watched the exchange and his smile widened. With a growl, Thrand flicked his blade to Humbert's throat. "No more laughing now. A shame to die in the shadow of your freedom."

  Humbert's laughter jarred Thrand, and he reflexively lessened the pressure on his sax.

  "If you kill me, you lose everything. You can't kill me yet."

  "But I can hurt you!" Pushing again, the blade drew a bead of blood that made Humbert flinch but failed to eliminate his smirk. "Let's be clear. Kolbyr and I intend to get your treasure. Before this day is done, Ulfrik will return to tell us your friends in Paris all shit themselves when we arrived. We'll be inside your walls tomorrow. But Ulfrik is Hrolf's dog now, and One-Eye's son is spying on him. If you think he'll help you take revenge, forget it. He wants to keep your gold secret, and so he'll hold you close. You'll have to wait. Maybe for years."

  He tapped Humbert's head with the flat of his blade, failing to draw more than an irritated shake of his head.

  Kolbyr laughed and added his own threats. "And you'll have us around all the time. We won't miss a chance to remind you of your position. You'd love that, wouldn't you, little priest?"

  Humbert's smug expression flattened and Thrand's chest grew warm at the sight. At last, he was kicking through this ignorant Frank's pride. Glancing over his shoulder to be sure no one was near, he pressed his point.

  "But there is a way out. We can release you, right now even. Kolbyr and I will kill your enemy in exchange for the treasure. It's that simple, really. You watch, Hrolf and Sigfrid want to get past this dung heap and ransom the cities to the east. Hrolf will take Ulfrik, and he will take you. But if we cut you free, your life will be your own."

  Thrand could not determine if Humbert considered the offer. His dark eyes clouded and his thin lips were tightly drawn. He seemed to struggle focusing on Thrand, which his lazy eye tended to inflict upon others. Yet he suspected the priest was deep in calculation. After long moments, the priest's dry lips parted.

  "Humbert thinks you are wrong. Paris will fight. Count Odo and Bishop Joscelin would rather die than surrender."

  Kolbyr snorted. "They'd be killing everyone in their city. I thought you Christians don't like innocents to die?"

  "They will listen to God's will, and He will demand faith. Paris will not fall, not with His hands upon its walls." Humbert closed his eyes and spoke with a reverence that made Thrand want to ram his sax through Humbert's neck.

  "You'd better hope your god puts his hands over your throat before I slice it open." Snapping the sax to Humbert's neck again, the priest tilted his head back to avoid being cut. "If you won't agree to work with us, we can always force you. We can skip your revenge, and get right to the treasure. I know plenty of ways to make you reveal it, trust me."

  Humbert grew still, and Thrand now stood while keeping the sax at the slave's neck

  Kolbyr stood as well, chuckling. "I say you give him a demonstration. Maybe hold his head under the river water for a while, just to see how he likes it."

  "Yes, we don't have to leave marks for Ulfrik's eyes, do we." Thrand traced his sax down to where Humbert's red cloak was held with a button of deer antler. He hooked the tip beneath it, as if to pop it off. "I could choke you with this rag you love so much. Would you like that? If you cooperate, you can escape all of this."

  Humbert scuttled away and pushed the blade aside.

  The sound of the commotion reached Thrand and he stepped back. Turning around, the crowds on the shore were like angry bees and making as much noise. Thrusting his sax back into its sheath, he spared a snarl for Humbert before running to the prow. He called to the other crewmen boarding a neighboring ship.

  "What is happening? Paris is surrendering?"

  Men shook their heads and called back. "They want a fight."

  Thrand and Kolbyr looked at each other in surprise. After a few moments of the news sinking in, Kolbyr broke their silence. "War complicates things. Ulfrik will try to move on this treasure during the fighting."

  Nodding in agreement, Thrand stroked his beard. "It's not so bad yet. Many will die in battle, and not many know of the treasure. Sounds encouraging, doesn't it?"

  Kolbyr's brow furrowed, then realization showed as a wicked smile. "I didn't expect that even from you. Still, sounds challenging."

  "In the madness of battle, young Kolbyr, no one knows who kills what. We only need aid Fate a little; wherever one of Ulfrik's inner circle survives, we correct the mistake."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  November 26, 885 CE

  "There are only two hundred men to defend all of Paris, so take heart." Ulfrik stood on the northern banks of the Seine, his forty warriors arrayed into two blocks. Dressed in mail and helmets, bearing spears and shields, they arrayed for battle. Behind them, in the dull morning sun, a vast fleet of dark ships crawled past. The shouts and war cries of their crews filled the air, where dark birds circled in anticipation of the killing to come.

  "Lord, Humbert claims his god protects them from our arrows and blades." One of his crew, an older man with a white scar over the bridge of his nose, raised the concern. He glanced nervously at his peers. "Is it possible?"

  "Our people have been sacking the new god's churches for generations. The new god is a dead god, and his hands and feet are nailed to wood. Did you notice? The man promising
his god will save the Franks is lashed to a mast." Ulfrik joined his men in laughter. Having drawn duty for land assault, Ulfrik had to leave his ships behind, and tied Humbert to the mast to prevent his escape. "Both god and slave are unable to move, and so the Franks are doomed."

  Toki arrived with two other men, each of them carrying skins tight with ale. They began distributing the skins into the ranks of men. In his youth, Ulfrik let his fury carry him into battle, and scorned drink. Now, older and with more to lose, he needed the courage found in the skins. Men guzzled ale as Ulfrik paced before them. A hot tightness filled his stomach, and his eyes flitted to the dark gray tower looming to the east. Once the skins were in circulation, he reviewed the plan a final time.

  "When the horns blow, each block picks up their ladders." He pointed to the two huge siege ladders stacked between him and the warriors. Gunther and his men delivered them in early morning, along with instructions. They were longer than both of his ships lined up, and wide enough for one man to climb at a time. Two rough-hewn timbers accompanied each ladder, to steady it.

  "Don't draw your weapons, but hold your shields against arrows. If our fellows are doing their work, the Franks won't dare come to their battlements from all our own bow fire. We lay the ladders at the tower base like we practiced. Then it's up and in. Sigfrid is offering a reward for the first men up a ladder. Hrolf will match it, as will I. But you have to live to collect it, so nothing passes to your families. Until the city is breached, accept no surrender and take no prisoners."

  He commanded the men to wheel toward the east, and prepare for the order. The army of Danes and Norwegians converged on the banks behind Ulfrik's position. Jutting from blocks of troops were banners of the northmen in every size and color, waving in the gentle breeze. Ulfrik gestured for Toki to raise Nye Grenner's standard. As he hoisted the pole overhead, the green banner unfurled with a snap. Ulfrik pumped his fist in the air and roared. The throaty cheers of his men joined his. All across the banks and spilling out into the water the ceremony repeated.