The Storm God's Gift (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 5)

by Jerry Autieri

  “Not yet,” he said, seated beside Ulfrik in the grass. He was picking at the blades, twisting one between his fingers. They sat in silence for several moments.

  “No one you want to see from the other ship?” Lini shrugged, threw the grass aside. “No girl to sneak off with like your other friend?”

  “How’d you know he did that?”

  “My bones are broken, not my ears. They’re just over that rise, rolling in the grass. Thought maybe you’d want join in.”

  “Audhild said to stay with you.”

  “That frightens me, Lini. A willing girl in reach, but you’d rather sit with a broken old man?”

  “Didn’t say I’d prefer it. Said Audhild ordered me.” Both Lini and Ulfrik chuckled, and he pulled out more grass to study. “Besides, Thorir doesn’t like sharing his girls.”

  “Not much of a friend, is he.” They both laughed again, their voices joining the general positive spirit infusing the landing.

  The weeks at sea had been monotonous, worsened from being an invalid, but his dire predictions of raiders had never materialized. Only one tense encounter occurred with passing traders, and the worry was mutual. Both formations skirted each other, but exchanged friendly signals. Eldrid had proclaimed her sacrifice of Hrut’s life had banished all evil from their path. Everyone had readily accepted this as the truth. Ulfrik had called it luck, but kept the thought secreted. Once he had learned the art of silent acceptance, Eldrid had become more tractable. She spouted her wisdom and promises in between long periods of sleep, and had stopped tormenting Ulfrik. However, Audhild had been cold to him since his failed attempts to manipulate her feelings. Potentially her coldness also calmed Eldrid’s hostility. He had begun to think Eldrid worried for the two of them forming an alliance against her. It made no sense to Ulfrik, but he could not guess what made sense to the mad, blind prophetess.

  A large wave crashed on the beach, rocking both ships and drawing Ulfrik from his thoughts. Lini craned his neck forward but just as quickly lost interest.

  “I want to stand,” Ulfrik said. He turned to Lini, who sat frozen with a long blade of grass between his fingers.

  “That’s not what Audhild told—”

  “Forget her,” Ulfrik commanded like he stood at the front of a shieldwall. “I need to stand, if only for a moment. It’s a small thing for you, but it has become a dream for me. I can do it with your help.”

  “But your legs. You’re not set up for standing. What if you fall?”

  “Then I fall and I’ll cry and curse, but will be no worse than I am now. But if I stand, if only for a moment, then my life will have meaning again. You are a good man, Lini, and I want you to be the one to help me. Please.”

  Lini stared at him, his green eyes wide and the blade of grass fallen from his fingers. He searched over his shoulder as if his father might catch him playing with a sword he was not old enough to handle. “I’m not sure how to get you up.”

  “My legs are locked in place. Take my arm and heave me up like a log. Let me balance against you, and get some weight on my legs. I’ve not moved in a month, and my muscles are like mushrooms. I’ve got to build back the strength in small steps. You help me, and I’ll be in your debt. Hurry, before Audhild returns.”

  He wanted to do this on his own terms, and to be standing when Audhild returned. He would show her the strength she believed he lacked and demonstrate he did not rely on her for everything. Reaching out his good arm, he waited for Lini to take it.

  “You sure about this?” His head swiveled in search of someone to stop him, but when on one came, he grabbed Ulfrik’s forearm in sweaty hands.

  “Pull hard and catch me when I’m up.”

  The pain was more than expected, but Ulfrik gritted his teeth as Lini yanked him up. The moment he was on his feet, bolts of pain shot up his legs but the wooden braces lashed to either side held his limbs rigid. He wobbled then continued forward, but Lini butted his chest against his to prevent him from stumbling. “How does it feel?”

  “Like my legs are breaking again.”

  “Then get back down.”

  “No!”

  For endless minutes he quivered and the pain lanced through his joints and hips. He crushed his eyes shut and grimaced, clasping his good arm to Lini’s. Holding close to the boy, he slowly opened his eyes and viewed the world upright. Before him was the rolling iron-gray sea and two ships leaning on the beach.

  “You’re standing,” Lini exclaimed. “You did it.”

  Ulfrik forced a smile through the pain, but could not speak. He feared even to turn his head or lose his balance. Tears flowed down into the tangle of his beard, and the simple victory of standing under his own power filled him with hope again. If he could walk, then he could return home again. Behind his gritted teeth, in the depth of his heart, he vowed to escape. Runa, I will stand beside you again. I swear it before all the gods. I will sit in my hall once more.

  “What are you doing?” Audhild’s voice broke into his thoughts, and at last he smiled. The gods had sent her back in time to witness his daring. She was as flustered as he had hoped. “He’s not ready to stand.”

  “But he is standing,” Lini said. “I’m just helping balance him.”

  “Until his legs give out and he collapses.” Audhild was at his side now, and she grasped his other arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Standing,” Ulfrik said. “You promised I would be able to by Norway, and here we are.”

  Lying down again was not as easy as he had hoped. Lini and Audhild placed him like a log on a woodpile, Audhild stern and worried but Lini smiling and excited. Ulfrik winked at his new friend.

  As soon as he was laid out, Audhild grabbed Lini’s shirt in both hands. “You were to watch over him, not risk breaking his bones again. What kind of fool are you?”

  “I made him do it,” Ulfrik protested. “Leave him alone.”

  “Made him? You are little more than a sack of bones. How could you make him do anything?”

  “A friend cannot grant a favor to another? Or do you only understand force? I used our friendship to get what I wanted. I’m sorry, Lini, if I’ve caused you trouble.”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I can’t believe you stood on two broken legs.”

  Audhild inhaled to unleash a renewed tirade, but she stopped when Eldrid and Gudrod arrived. Others maintained distance at the edges, but leaned in to see. Eldrid’s screechy voice grated on Ulfrik’s ears.

  “What has happened? Why the anger?”

  Lini explained to both Gudrod and Eldrid. When finished, Eldrid fingered the bones of her necklace and remained silent. Gudrod frowned at him, but gave more attention to Audhild. He touched her arm tentatively, and she pulled aside.

  “Standing is good,” Eldrid proclaimed at last. “The gods will have more use for him if he can stand and walk.”

  A chill ran through Ulfrik’s back at the words. Had Eldrid intended him to remain crippled? The consideration made no sense, but in light of her proclamation it seemed to have been her plan. Audhild meekly nodded, and he wondered if she also had conspired to keep him weakened. Eldrid thumped her staff on the ground and turned away, as if closing a meeting. For a blind woman, she moved with ease over the uneven ground. Ulfrik hoped she would trip and break her teeth.

  Audhild dismissed Lini and began fussing with Ulfrik’s braces, tightening the bindings and straightening the wood slats.

  “How did the meeting with the townsfolk go?” He decided not to press his victory too much, unsure if he could even consider it as such. Instead, he had another plan he hoped to set into play.

  She twisted her mouth to the side as she roughly checked his other wounds. “Not as we had hoped. The local jarl is willing to allow us to trade and buy what we need for the voyage, but ship repairs will take too long. He’s afraid we’ll remain here all winter.”

  “We should. Ouch, the stitches are not ready to come out. Don’t pull them.” He raised his head, and Audhild was plu
cking at the thread holding together his thigh where the bone had punctured.

  “Winter anywhere is difficult, so may as well begin it in our new home. The Franks and your friend Throst forced us to action before we would’ve liked. We were going to set out next year.”

  “You’d have never kept two ships secret for so long. Who built them anyway? Some things could stand to be better crafted, but overall our ship at least is sturdy.”

  “Gudrod and his crew. They were ship builders by trade, worked for my father. Those ships that took you to Gunnolfsvik were made of my father’s hand.” Audhild faced the beached ships, a small sigh escaping. “Of course, no one needs ships when all the battles are fought over land these days. Would that he had relocated to a port or England, he’d be alive today.”

  “Were it Fate’s plan to end his life, no matter where he went death awaited. I take it he fell in battle? There’s no more honorable way than to die a hero.”

  “Cut in battle, yes, but the bending sickness overtook him. He became locked like an iron bar and died worse than a mad dog. Nothing heroic in that.”

  Ulfrik turned away, too familiar with that horrid manner of death to want to know more. Audhild remained staring at the sea, and Ulfrik decided he had to advance his plan now while she was willing to speak with him.

  “I can do nothing right today,” he mumbled. She did not acknowledge, but remain twisted toward the sea. “I’m sorry the locals won’t look at our ships, but without repairs, I fear our journey will be more dangerous than it already is. The caulking on our ship alone is poor or there is a structural problem. In either case, one good storm will make bailing impossible and we’ll be swamped. Eldrid’s sacrifice has held us to this landfall, but will it be enough to carry us from here to Iceland?” He closed his eyes, hating the credit he gave to Eldrid. For now he had to act complacent or risk finding himself at the bottom of the ocean.

  “Are you suggesting we find another man to sacrifice? Human blood is the most potent gift. Why would it not satisfy any longer?”

  He thought human sacrifice was detestable to the gods, for what glory was there in killing a helpless person in their name? Would a man be honored if a caged rat were drowned in his name? If any man’s blood were to be spilled for the gods, it was better done on the battlefield. Such considerations were not shared by many, and clearly not among his so-called new family. “How do I know what pleases the gods? If I did, I’d not be lying here and dressed in rags. No, the repairs are my concern. Listen, how much do you know about me?”

  “You were a Hersir over many jarls and sworn to Hrolf the Strider. You defeated the Franks inside the walls of your own fortress. I guess you thought yourself a mighty man.” She turned back to him, and again raised her scarred brow. The gesture was beginning to irritate him as much as Eldrid’s piercing voice.

  “So before all of that, I lived here in Norway. My accent should’ve told you as much. When Harold Finehair decided the jarls of this land must bend a knee to him or die, many people fled. That’s when I met Hrolf. Other men fled to the Faereyjar Islands, which lie upon our route. The people there are peaceful and their land is nothing but mountains and wide plains of grass. Some are ship-builders who did work for Hrolf. If they will not let us winter on their lands, then I’m certain they will be willing to trade for repairing our ships. Unlike the people here, in the Faereyjar people need to trade for what they lack.”

  Audhild’s mouth twisted again and her cocked brow dropped. “Gudrod mentioned these islands on the way back. You say Hrolf had worked with them before?”

  “He has, though I was merely part of his crew. There are many islands, most of them empty. I can show Gudrod where the major settlements are and where we can barter for repairs. Places without many people are more likely to allow us to winter on their land. I understand winters are actually mild in those islands.”

  Standing and slapping away the wet grass from her skirt, Audhild smiled. “I’ll talk with Eldrid and Gudrod. What is the name of this place?”

  Ulfrik frowned as if in a great struggle to summon the name from memory. “I’m not sure. I believe it was called Nye Grenner.”

  Chapter 19

  “There it is.” Ulfrik stuck his chin at the blue strip rising out of the horizon. Though it pained him to sit, he had endured it to help guide Gudrod the final distance to his former home of Nye Grenner. In his weakened condition every swell threatened to pitch him off the crate he had placed beside the steering board. With his left arm still in a sling, he dared not release his other hand from gripping the rails.

  “These islands all look the same,” Gudrod muttered. “You sure this is the place?”

  “Bet my beard on it,” he said, focusing on the distant cliffs. He had sailed these waters too many times to count. Sea birds and whales showed him the path, along with the currents and craggy islands dotting the approach. To the untrained eye it was empty sea and sky, but to him it was a well-trodden road. He could not reckon the years it had been since he had traveled the path, but he had never forgotten it.

  Cold sea spray prickled his face as the ship cut the choppy waves. Oars had been shipped and men now worked the sails in response to the wind. He remembered how welcoming the winds were in this leg of the journey home. He used to think it was the gods whisking him back to his hall. It had not always been in glory, but now Ulfrik’s memories had acquired that golden glow that comes with age. Barely holding on to his seat, bones broken and braced, his mind dwelt in a completely different world—one where he was young and strong, the master of his hall and ship, and leading men to riches and adventure. His smile trembled as he dreamed.

  “How close are we?” Eldrid’s screeching voice blasted into his reverie. She stood before Ulfrik, legs thrown wide to balance herself on the rocking deck. Her knuckles were white clutching her staff, and seeing it broadened Ulfrik’s smile.

  “With these winds, we’ll arrive soon,” he said. Gudrod grunted in agreement.

  “They better welcome us like you promised.” She tried to raise her staff to menace him, but could not balance herself otherwise.

  “I’m the storm god’s gift, am I not? Don’t doubt me.”

  She scowled but moved off to harass the bailers, who were resting against the sides and out of breath. The ship had taken on so much water that two bailers had to work nonstop. Bailing was a normal function on any ship, but this bordered on swamping. They had to empty the hold to prevent damage to their cargo, and the deck was overcrowded with people, sacks, boxes, and barrels. They needed to repair at Nye Grenner or the ship would be lost in the first storm it faced.

  Ulfrik had other plans.

  No one on this ship realized who he was and his relationship with Nye Grenner. He would exploit that. As the high cliff walls drew up out of the distance, he came ever closer to a place where he still ruled. In truth, he had long ago abandoned this land to its fate. Yet he had built it from nothing, and cultivated a community that for a while was the pinnacle of power in these islands. The earth here had been watered with his blood. The people would not forget him, or his sacrifices. They would save him from captivity, and restore him to his rightful place. For all he had done for them, no matter how much time had passed, these people owed him a debt.

  Even so, a fire smoldered in his guts. How much could he trust the memory of the people?

  In the last stretch, he guided Gudrod through a treacherous current that dragged unsuspecting ships into the cliffs. They approached from the south, following the high brown cliffs into the calm waters that broke on a beach of smooth rocks. He expected to see docks, but instead found only a single piling sticking out of the waters, like an old tree too stubborn to collapse.

  “They’ll have spotted us from the hall long ago,” Ulfrik said, hemming in the excitement that had slipped into his voice. Gudrod seemed too intent on steering to notice. “You should send a party to speak with them while the other ships anchor a safe distance away.”

  Gudrod spar
ed a tired glare while hauling on the tiller. Men shouted to each other as they worked the rigging, trimming the sails to slow their approach. Ulfrik craned his neck to see who had come to greet them, but the grassy slope remained empty.

  The ship thumped into the beach, expertly landed with a great smile from Gudrod. “That’s how it’s done,” he said to Ulfrik. “Slide like ice right up to shore.”

  “Where’s everyone?” Audhild joined them, one hand shielding her eyes against the sun. Their only reception was from sea gulls squawking on nearby rocks and seals barking farther down the shore. “There’s hearth smoke.”

  Ulfrik stared across the deck, up the slope to the hall he had built with Toki and Snorri and dozens of others whose names had gone on to the feasting hall. Nye Grenner still stood, its roofs of green turf like furry green hats. That had been a change from the original construction, but was better suited for this climate. Boat houses and barracks he had built were no longer there, at least as far as he could see. A tear came to his eye as he rejoined the land where he had taken Runa for his wife and his sons had been born. Atop that hill, in a hall where another man now ruled, he had once lived a life of simple pleasures. Where had it gone? Why had it gone?

  “Bring me ashore,” Eldrid screeched. “Let me kiss the rocks and feel the dry earth under my feet.”

  “Where’s everyone?” Audhild asked again, as if no one had heard her the first time.

  “Two ships out of the morning sun make people wary,” Gudrod said. “They’re either in the hall or all fled.”

  “They should arrange themselves on slope before the hall. The approach is a killing field for archers.” Everyone paused at Ulfrik’s observation, and he realized he had revealed too much. His mind was still wrapped up in the past. “That is what Hrolf said of this place. Very defensible.”