Fate's Needle

by Jerry Autieri

  Ulfrik dropped a bag of hack silver and leaped over the gunwale of his ship to wade out and hear Troke’s report. They had been ashore for only an hour, unloading and admiring the spoils. Now, Ulfrik cursed their slow pace. Half the treasure was laid on the beach and the rest remained in the hold. Troke and his son were already rowing away from him, heading for safety. “Two boats just rounded the rocks,” Troke called back as his son rowed. “Small, with no sails or shields, but they have dragonheads on the prow and look in good repair. They’re trouble.”

  “How many men did you count,” Ulfrik yelled, discarding one plan after the next even as he listened.

  “Five oars a side. Gods keep you!”

  Ulfrik waded back to where Yngvar and his men had gathered in the surf. If the ships were fully crewed, Ulfrik would face twenty men or more to his twelve.

  “They have pulled in shields and put out dragonheads. They come to fight,” Ulfrik explained to his men, attempting to keep the quaver from his voice.

  Yngvar scowled and spat into the cold surf. “They’ve sniffed out our treasure. Could be the ship that followed us a few days ago.”

  Ulfrik had no time to consider that. A plan cobbled together in his mind. Already regaining his confidence, Ulfrik said, “There’s no time to meet them at sea and we can’t get the treasure hidden or out of the ship. We must either retreat or make a stand here.”

  The younger men without families growled at the mention of retreat, but Ulfrik sensed most would have preferred to run. “We worked too hard for this. The gods are with us, men. Believe that. You,” he said, pointing to one of the younger men, “go send the women and children to Thor’s hall. Then come back and join me on the beach. The rest of you listen to me.”

  The man set off running while Ulfrik shared his plan. Yngvar and some of the men would hide beneath the leather tarpaulin that covered the treasure on the boat. The other nine, including Ulfrik, would line up at the edge of the shoreline, and surrender. Lastly, he turned to Snorri. “Prove to me you are still good with your hunting bow. Fetch it from the ship and take a position on the rocks nearby. We have to break their will to fight, and you must do it for me. When I call your name, send shaft after shaft into their leader until he is dead. If you cannot kill him, kill his second. Keep them confused, and join us when your arrows are done.”

  The men nodded and Ulfrik grinned, relishing the cunning of his plan. Ulfrik would keep most of the raiders occupied in the surf, where footing was less certain. Yngvar would surprise any raiders who tried to steal the treasure. Ulfrik hoped to look just weak enough to be enticing, but not so weak he looked like bait.

  The men took up their positions as black smudges of boats appeared through the fog. They resolved into the familiar, curved forms of longboats and came on quietly, slipping through the waves. Had Troke not spotted them, Ulfrik would have been taken unaware. When the ships closed on the shore, the oars banked and silhouettes appeared at the prows. One man, probably the leader, stood on the railing, gripping the neck of the dragon-headed prow. The ships seemed well cared for. These raiders are not desperate, Ulfrik thought. I hoped as much. Desperate men are harder to dishearten.

  The ships glided straight for Ulfrik and his line of nine men, who had pulled together their shields but had not had time to don mail or leather. The ships veered right, putting ashore down the beach. Ulfrik adjusted his line, keeping the shields facing the boats, and anchored his left side to the Wave Spear. The ship closest to them held twelve men, most of whom carried bows with arrows already strung. The second ship was obscured by the first as the men disembarked. Ulfrik’s heart hammered out its own doubts about his plan. Ten more men emerged, each bearing a shield and clad in leathers and furs for armor. The leader wore a mail coat and a leather helmet.

  Snorri remained hidden; Ulfrik hoped he could get a clear shot. With a mail coat in the way, the arrow would have to be guided by Odin himself.

  Both groups assembled. Ulfrik’s thin line faced a jumble of ten men, all backed by archers on the other boat.

  When the time comes, we’ll fall back behind Wave Spear, he mentally consoled himself, counting on the fact that he and his men fought for their homes while the raiders fought only for profit. His hope was to break the raiders’ will to fight.

  The leader, a bronze-skinned man with a face weathered by life at sea, turned his dark eyes to Ulfrik and then to the sacks and boxes further up the beach. He drew his sword. “Who’s the leader of this sorry group?” he croaked, his voice hoarse.

  Up close, Ulfrik could see the man’s mail was rusted and his sword, notched and dull. His dark beard was short and patchy, as if had been burned away and grown back wrong.

  Ulfrik spat at the man in answer. Holding to the line, Ulfrik kept his expression blank—to reveal neither confidence nor fear—and held the man’s dark stare. A man fears not knowing the mind of his enemy, he thought, and in this case, the dark-eyed leader seemed irritated. He stepped forward, as Ulfrik had hoped.

  “I am Koll and these are my men. Up there is Toki, with his crew.” Koll hitched his thumb at another dark-haired man who stood on the rail of the closest ship. Toki waved and his seven archers laughed. A few spearheads bobbed behind him—the rest of his crew preparing to disembark. “So do you just spit, or do you have a name?”

  “I am Ulfrik, and these are my warriors,” he said. “You are on my lands, which I hold for King Kjotve the Rich. Leave now or die where you stand.”

  “I know where I am, and the names don’t scare me.” Koll pointed with his sword toward the treasure on the beach. In doing so, his shield slid away, leaving his neck exposed. “Put down your weapons and start loading…”

  “Snorri!” Ulfrik bellowed, falling back. “Get behind the ship!” he ordered his men.

  Snorri’s arrows hissed overhead as Ulfrik and the others threw up shields to cover their retreat behind the Wave Spear. Koll appeared dumbfounded. An arrow hit his mail hauberk, below the throat, and bounced away. Toki yelled the command to fire, and his bowmen wasted their shafts as their targets disappeared behind the ship. Koll looked down at his chest, then screamed as he charged. His men followed, struggling for traction in the sand.

  “Form up here. Let them come to us!” Ulfrik pulled back his line, parallel to where he knew Snorri hid, and anchored the left flank to the ship. That forced the attackers to round the prow, preventing them from rushing forward all at once and leaving their shields facing away from Snorri’s arrows.

  Snorri sent a second shaft whistling into the crotch of a man rounding the prow, who screamed as he collapsed facedown in the sand. His bulk formed a hurdle the man behind could not leap in time, and Ulfrik saw one of his own men rush forward to finish him.

  “Stay in line!” Ulfrik commanded, right as Yngvar sprung his trap.

  He shocked even Ulfrik as he leaped up from the Wave Spear, one hand clasping his ax, and a spear hefted in the other. Yngvar’s gleaming teeth were barred and his eyes wide with fury. He hurled the spear down as Koll approached the prow. Koll looked up, startled, as the spear’s point buried itself in the soft flesh of his neck, plowing three hands deep into his body. Koll’s feeble scream became a gurgle as he fell back on another man.

  Not wasting time, Yngvar dove into the enemy bunched around the ship, immediately taking two men down with him. The remaining five men danced wide of the prow, Snorri’s third arrow catching one in the chest, stopped only by a leather jerkin.

  Ulfrik saw the opportunity. “Kill them all!” He sprang forward and drove his sword into the back of one of the men Yngvar had tackled. The others charged forward, screaming, and fell upon the five enemies. As a raider braced his shield to block another blow, Ulfrik pulled out his blade and stabbed beneath the shield. Blood flooded his blade.

  Yngvar leaped to his feet and killed the man beneath him with a mighty swing of the ax, as if he were chopping firewood. Glancing up, Ulfrik noticed two of his other men aboard the Wave Spear were taking bow fire. One was
rolling over the rails, avoiding the missiles; the other vanished for a moment and then returned to yell down into the fray, “They’re coming around the other side.”

  Ulfrik had feared the enemy from the second boat might round Wave Spear and attack from the rear. The fight was not over, but his men were prevailing. He prayed Snorri would hold his position. The first line of enemies was nearly broken. Yngvar was already moving forward to threaten them when the remaining four men called to surrender.

  “With me!” Ulfrik shouted, then turned to charge the next wave.

  The man named Toki was already halfway to meeting him, and four other spearmen were also moving toward the stern of the Wave Spear. Beyond them, the archers had trained their bows on Ulfrik. Two arrows hit the sand before him, and one glanced off his shield. Then he crashed into Toki.

  Ulfrik towered over his dark-haired enemy and rammed him with his shield, staggering him. One of the four spearmen had doubled back, but rather than attack he shuffled to the side to flank Ulfrik.

  Toki recovered, grunting as he thrust his spear forward. Ulfrik stepped away and avoided it, then responded with a clumsy backhanded strike that took the second man at the elbow. The man howled and spun away with the force.

  Toki’s blade hammered on his shield, but Ulfrik was strong enough to absorb it. Behind him, the howls of his own men drew Toki’s eyes away from the fight. In that moment, Ulfrik slammed the iron rim of his shield into Toki’s face. The raider’s nose crunched and he flopped down unconscious, blood and snot slicking his beard.

  The remaining attackers, including the injured spearman, ran for their ship, which two of the archers had hauled back into the waves. Relief washed over Ulfrik as his attackers took to the oars. His men howled and roared, waving their bloodied swords in the air. From the corner of his eye, Ulfrik saw a movement beneath him. Fast as a striking serpent, he crunched his foot down on Toki’s sword arm. “Surrender or die, although I hope you choose death.”

  Toki let his bloodied sword arm fall to the side, and his body went limp. “Then I surrender, if that will anger you.”

  “I may still kill you anyway.” Ulfrik smiled mirthlessly. “I should have no mercy for what you intended to do here.”

  Yngvar appeared at his side. He spat savagely on Toki, and then leaned in to whisper in Ulfrik’s ear. “Johan is wounded—badly. Go to him before he leaves for the feasting hall. I’ll take care of this scum.”

  Johan lay on the sand in a slowly widening stain of blood. A local boy, he had joined Ulfrik seeking adventure when Wave Spear was ready to sail. Now he lay dying in the shadow of that ship, trying to hold his guts inside the ragged cut in his belly. Someone had already laid his hands over his sword. The others made room for Ulfrik to kneel by his head. Tears streamed from Johan’s eyes and he shuddered with pain, but he made no sound.

  “You are a fearsome warrior, Johan,” Ulfrik whispered.

  “I thought he was dead,” Johan said, barely audible. “The spear, came up…”

  Ulfrik quieted him, and watched as the life faded from Johan’s eyes. “We will meet again in the feasting hall, friend. Why have women when you can have Valkyries.” He removed Johan’s hands from his wound and placed them on the hilt of the sword on his chest.

  Ulfrik stood and spoke over Johan’s corpse. “We will bury him and pay his share of the wealth to his family.” The others nodded and a few farewelled their dead companion. Then they turned to Yngvar. He had disarmed Toki, who was seated on the beach with his hands on his head. The bodies of the dead raiders were scattered about like a quiver of spilled arrows. Shields half buried in the sand resembled seashells. The raiders were gone, one man was lost, and the rest were no worse for their injuries. The treasure had been preserved. Best of all, Ulfrik now had a captive for ransom and a ship to claim. Were it not for Johan’s death, he would have counted it a perfect ending to his first raid.

  Ulfrik returned to Yngvar’s side and looked down on Toki. “You are my prisoner.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Toki replied. His accent was still distinctive, even if now nasal and distorted from his smashed nose.

  “You’ll be digging a pit for your friends first. Then you’ll dig a grave for my man. While you’re digging, I’ll be looking over my new ship. What did you call it when it was yours?”

  Toki turned away, spitting blood and snot onto the ground. “The Raven’s Talon. Now that it’s yours, you might as well call it the Dog Fucker.”

  Ulfrik laughed at Toki’s insolence, but Yngvar kicked the raider hard enough to flatten him to the sand. He lay there as though he never intended to rise again. “Get this one working, Yngvar. Take another man with you, to help Toki concentrate. Karvi was a good friend of Johan’s. He should be eager to keep him focused.”

  Ulfrik laughed again as he pulled himself up into the ship. He did not expect to find much of value, beyond the boat itself. He would have to include it in his take for the year and let Thor decide how to portion it out. While he waited for the berserker lord to arrive, he imagined Raven’s Talon and Wave Spear sailing together, returning home filled to the gunwales with gold and silver.

  ***

  By the time Thor arrived with ten spearmen and several slaves, the raiders’ heads were on poles, lining the approach to the beach. Ulfrik did not enjoy the task, so had delegated it to a few men who had seemed happy to do it, knowing that ten rotting heads would give enemies pause before attacking. The bodies would be burned en masse in the pit Toki had dug, and whatever remained would be buried to deter scavenging animals.

  “I heard about the battle,” Thor yelled as soon as he came within earshot. “What a victory for you, Ulfrik. Tell me all about it.”

  Ulfrik smiled and met Thor halfway to the pit. “The gods were with us today. That is all. My men have discipline and were more than a match for sloppy pirates.” He turned Thor away from the pit, guiding him back along the beach as he explained. Thor listened, but his brow was furrowed and he occasionally ran his thick, gold-ringed fingers through his beard. Ulfrik finished the account just as they approached the gathered treasures and the Raven’s Talon. Both men stared out at the waters of the fjord. The morning fog had rolled back to unveil a flat gray expanse of water.

  “I see you portioned out the treasure already.” Thor nodded to the bags and boxes stacked to the side. “My men will recount it, all the same. It looks like a good raid for you.”

  Ulfrik nodded and pointed at Toki. “I have captured him and his ship. How do you want to handle them?”

  Thor knelt down to peek into the nearest bag and withdrew a figurine of a dolphin carved from jet. He admired it as he replied. “The ship is too small for me. You can keep it. But if you want to crew it next season, you better have a good plan to pay all those men.”

  Ulfrik again nodded. He had hoped the ship would not interest Thor and was glad to keep it. “The prisoner was one of their leaders. Will you take him as a slave?”

  “I want him to tell me where his men went. Then I’ll skin him alive and throw him into the sea with a stone about his neck.” Thor replaced the dolphin, apparently pleased that it had been included in his pile. Then he drew out a silver torc that must have come from some warrior of the western islands. “No one raids my lands and lives. The heads on poles was a good idea, too.”

  Ulfrik paid no attention to the compliment. He watched as Karvi shoved an exhausted Toki with his spear butt, making him stumble toward the pit. Ulfrik felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the man; after all, he had only been attempting to do what Ulfrik had just done to the Svear. He reminds me of someone, Ulfrik thought, although he could not say whom. The thought of presiding over Toki’s gruesome death made him uneasy.

  “I want him for my crew,” Ulfrik said, on a whim.

  Thor replaced the torc, raised himself up on one knee, and clapped the sand from his hands. “You can have his skin.”

  “No, I want him to replace the crewman I lost.” His stare met Thor’s sunken eyes—onyx ey
es that were unused to holding another man’s gaze. Ulfrik felt Thor’s mood growing as dark as the berserker’s eyes.

  “I have told you what my plans are for that scum. Do not speak of him again.”

  “I will pay you half of my own share to keep him.” Ulfrik eyes remained locked on Thor’s. It is important to show strength to those you lead, and even more important to show to those you follow. The words that sprang into his head were Auden’s. His uncle had told him that years ago, but Ulfrik only now found use for the advice. Thor’s face remained unmoved, but his left eyebrow jerked upward. “You really intend to take him on your crew?”

  “He will be grateful, loyal to me for sparing his life and preserving him from slavery. Not only do I need loyal men, but I need a man who can pilot my extra ship. If he fails me, I will tie a stone to his neck and kick him into the sea.”

  “And skin him first?” Thor asked, a smile pinching the corners of his mouth. Ulfrik grinned in agreement. “Then I’ll have half your take added to mine and the prisoner is yours. But he must tell me where the other raiders are hiding. I have to destroy them before they regroup.”

  They concluded their deal with a handshake and a smile.

  “Yngvar!” Ulfrik gestured for him to bring Toki to where they stood. Karvi hauled the raider up and shoved him forward.

  “I think you overpaid me, Ulfrik.” Thor snorted at the ragged prisoner. “But you are a wise leader and an interesting man.”

  Toki stumbled to his knees in the sand before Thor and Ulfrik. In their shadows, he appeared smaller and weaker. His face was crusted with blood and black circles rimmed his eyes. He lowered his head, and dark hair hung over his face and curled from the sweat of his efforts.

  “I have paid Thor Haklang one half of my take in return for your life,” Ulfrik announced. Karvi sucked in his breath at the words, but Yngvar folded his arms and looked amused. “Before I make that payment, you must swear an oath of loyalty to me. If you do, I will make you one of my crew. When you have worked off the money I paid for your freedom, you will take an equal share, like the others.”