"My exact thoughts."
A thick group of men clustered at the forge. The squat building housed Thorvald's tools and supplies, and was a place for him and his family to sleep. But his anvil and forge were outside under a wooden roof. Toki stood at the edge of the group, and broke off to meet them.
"There are two men still alive. Thorvald just started working on them."
Ulfrik patted Toki's shoulder in greeting, and pushed forward into the group until he broke through the front. Two men were trussed in thin cords and seated on the dirt floor. Ulfrik smiled as he recognized the red shirt of the spear fighter he had crippled. The other was a man of average build, weathered skin, thinning hair, and many scars. If they had any valuables, those had already been stripped. Thorvald wore thick leather gloves and hovered over them as the onlookers encouraged him. He punched the crippled man in the face, snapping his head back.
"Hold on, Thorvald." Ulfrik stepped into the forge area and the crowd silenced. "We're not going to get anything out of them with broken jaws and no teeth."
Thorvald straightened up and his face turned red. He seemed on the verge of exploding but then softened. "They're not talking, anyway. I just hit them a few times."
Ulfrik smiled and looked down on the two captives. "Well, I bet you two hadn't expected capture. I hope Hardar is paying you well, because I'm going to make whatever he gave you feel worthless. I need answers and I'm getting them."
Ulfrik's eyes throbbed and his body quivered with anger. Part of him understood these two were simple men who took orders from whoever paid highest, and that he should not blame them for their actions. But that part of him was not in control. The part that raged against his losses dominated.
"Thorvald, get this one's hand on your anvil. Someone give me a hammer." Thorvald's smile grew wicked as he seized the crippled man and hauled him up. His swollen eyes pried open in terror.
A hammer fell into Ulfrik's waiting palm, and he weighed the head in his other hand. "You can start talking now or I can mash your hand. You ought to know I'm serious."
The man started sputtering his words and the other prisoner started to shout. "Don't tell him nothing!"
Ulfrik kicked the other man in his face. He snapped back and bounced his head on the anvil, then slouched to the side with bloody drool oozing from his mouth. "I only need one man to talk. One more word from you and it'll be your last."
The other prisoner moaned in answer while the one with his hand on the anvil started to talk. "Don't break my hand, please. I'll tell you what you want. Anything!"
"Who is your leader, and what is your deal with Hardar?"
"I'm sworn to Jarl Kjotve the Rich, and he has a deal with Hardar. I don't know what it is. We get a take of the spoils from sacking this place."
Ulfrik's vision flashed white. "Now that was the wrong answer. Jarl Kjotve the Rich died at Hafrsfjord. I was there."
The hammer slammed down and the man screamed. His bones crushed and his fingers splayed out. Ulfrik hammered again, until the meat of the prisoner's hand was flattened and the skin torn. The prisoner slumped and fainted from the pain. The crowd cheered at the violence. But as the white haze cleared from Ulfrik's mind, he felt revolted at his action. It was one thing to maim a man in battle, and another to maim the helpless.
His disgust only worsened his mood. He dropped the hammer with a dull thud and picked up the other prisoner. He sat him upright and grabbed his hair, pulling him so that his throat lay exposed. He crouched beside him.
"Your friend lied and you saw what it earned him. Now are you ready to speak honestly? Who do you serve?"
"I serve Kort the Gray. We are mercenaries or raiders, whatever you like to call us. Hardar promised shares in your treasure. It's all I know."
"I've never heard of Kort the Gray. Anyone else know of such a man?"
Ulfrik didn't look around but heard the confused grunts behind him. "Are you lying again?"
"We come from all lands, but founded our band after leaving Northumbria. We were last in the Orkneyjar, raiding a rich jarl there. It's the truth."
Ulfrik searched the man's desperate face. Whether it was the truth, he would never know. "Very well. How many crew your ships?"
"One hundred men. I don't know how many we lost. But we'll make them up. Maybe you should think about joining us, eh?"
Ulfrik slammed the man's head against the anvil. "How did Hardar find you?"
The man's eyes rolled as he recovered from the blow. Ulfrik shook him again, getting an answer. "We found him. We came to raid, but he offered payment and promised you were easier prey. Not so easy, we found out."
"Will Kort the Gray switch sides? Can he be paid to join with me?"
The man laughed, a noise like rocks grinding together. "Kort has honor, and has given his word. Besides Hardar has many friends here and we don't want to fight all of them. We're after the easy prey, you."
Ulfrik shoved the prisoner to the ground and stood. He looked up at Thorvald, his face a tapestry of shock, despair, and fear. He twisted to survey the equally horrified faces of the crowd. Even Toki and Snorri could not keep defeat from their faces.
"One hundred men plus more allies." Someone intoned the words at the back of the group.
"Six ships," another voice answered. "We had to expect at least that many crew."
"But more allies," a new voice added.
"Enough," Ulfrik spoke as evenly as he could. "Keep this information quiet. No need to spread panic yet. I will have council and decide what we do next."
"We have to surrender." A desperate, small voice floated up from the group. Ulfrik cringed at the suggestion. Faces turned to him, notably Snorri and Toki. Ulfrik stared back at them for long moments.
"I will have council and decide. Lock up these prisoners. Thorvald, you will come?"
Thorvald nodded slowly. Ulfrik blinked and looked at the desperate faces. There was nothing more to say. He left for the hall.
Ulfrik leaned beside the door to the hall as the last of his men filed inside. Now that so many had died, the main room felt expansive, large spaces separated the cliques seating themselves. No one spoke beyond simple greetings. The threat Hardar and his allies represented had become too desperate for anything more. Men wanted to know what would come next. Ulfrik wanted to know the same thing, and dreaded the answer.
Runa stood beside him at the door, holding Gunnar in her arms. Halla waited with Gerdie at a respectable distance, their feet hidden in the long grass turning blue in the twilight. Gunnar buried his face in his mother's shoulder, responding to the black mood that had overtaken everyone. Ulfrik looked into Runa's dark eyes. They had argued all afternoon, but achieved nothing more than angering each other. Now as she left the hall for the night, he forgot the reasons for fighting. It only remained to make a final decision, a single choice to fight or surrender.
"Sleep well tonight. Try not to think too much." Ulfrik touched Runa's arm as he spoke. She rolled her eyes.
"No one will sleep tonight, and least of all me. We must flee, Ulfrik. Make the right choice for your family."
Ulfrik rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. Then he gave her a kiss and tousled Gunnar's hair. "The men are waiting for me. Go on."
He watched her depart. Gunnar peeked over her shoulder as they left, and snapped his head away when Ulfrik caught his eye.
Inside the hall, men parted as he strode to the front where Snorri, Toki, Thorvald, and Einar sat at the high table. Each man nodded solemnly as Ulfrik took his place on the bench. He returned their greetings, then searched the assembly. The hearth burned brightly, obscuring men in the rear behind a yellow haze and crisply defining the rest. Every face, young and old, watched him. Ulfrik swallowed, then spoke.
"You've heard the news, and what the prisoners have said. We have decisions to make."
Ulfrik began with an outline of how they had come to make war with Hardar and how he had hired Kort the Gray and enlisted other jarls. He recounted the dead
, gave them honor, and named them. It was a long list of thirty-four warriors. The surviving warriors bowed their head at the names, shouted oaths of revenge, and some even wept.
"The burning of our ships destroyed our ability to strike Hardar at will. The terrain prevents overland attacks, and one ship cannot carry enough warriors to attack by sea. But that doesn't mean we have no use for a single ship. I will send men to seek allies. We will need help in this fight. I know that Ragnvald will stand with me. Others might be willing to do the same for a price. It will place us in their debt, but this is the best way."
Several men chorused approval. But the number of men who remained silent and studying their feet outnumbered them. The few supporting shouts faltered as no one added their voices. Ulfrik's head grew heavy and his breath shortened, knowing he did not have his men's hearts.
"I think sending for allies is a good idea," Snorri said brightly. "We have to fight defensively and resist Kort the Gray."
"It's a pointless move now. It's too late." Thorvald stepped out of the back and walked to join those beneath the high table. Ulfrik's eyes followed him as he approached, though otherwise he kept his face closed. He knew Thorvald's mind, and knew what to expect. He was not disappointed when Thorvald faced him.
"We needed allies long ago. But you failed in securing them. This last festival was a nice start, but too late. Hardar has still managed to make us look like outsiders, and law-breakers on top of that."
Ulfrik put up his hand to stop him. "The past is meaningless here. We need to focus on a plan."
"The past is everything!" Thorvald's rage pealed over Ulfrik. His face flashed red and his nostrils flared. "You've focused exclusively on building up Nye Grenner to surpass Hardar. You've been competing with him since the day you set up camp here. All you've wanted is to build a stronger army, better weapons, better homes, better ships. Everything better! But you neglected to make us one with the original settlers. Besides Ragnvald, who will come to our aid? No one!"
Ulfrik stood to the challenge. But several men shouted in Thorvald's defense. "Let him speak! A man has a right to speak his mind."
Ulfrik realized he had no other choice, and Thorvald did have his right to speak. He sunk back to his bench as Thorvald continued, his anger cooled from the break in his shouting.
"Now that those men you prided yourself upon are dead, and the fine ships are burned, what are we left with? I can craft swords and armor for you until Ragnarok. But ghosts cannot wield them in battle."
"Are you saying we cannot fight?" Snorri spoke up. "A man will defend his home until the last if he has any spine."
"I agree," Thorvald said, though he turned to face the crowd. "But we do not have to fight. Hardar wants his daughter returned. He wants justice for her kidnapper."
"Careful with your words," Ulfrik snarled. His fist clenched and he leaned forward. But Thorvald continued.
"We do not have to fight. We have to meet the demands of justice. Thirty-four men are buried today because we have not done so."
"I warn you, Thorvald"
"Toki broke his oath to the gods. Ulfrik has supported him in it."
"Silence, Thorvald!"
"We shed our blood and risk our families for men who cannot honor their sacred oaths!"
"You treasonous whoreson!"
"Surrender, Ulfrik. Take Toki with you. The gods demand it. We follow the will of the gods!"
Ulfrik leapt from the table and grabbed for Thorvald. His mind hummed with anger. But hands grabbed him from behind, while other men seized Thorvald and covered him. Ulfrik lashed out halfheartedly. Snorri banged the table calling for order. Shouting and punches flew. Men divided against each other, and Ulfrik's rage turned inward. He had only made things worse.
Ulfrik tore free from the hands gripping him. He jumped up to the table and joined Snorri in demanding an end to the argument. The more cool-headed men broke up the few scuffles and order slowly returned. Ulfrik stood before the table, breathing heavily. Men glared at each other, at Ulfrik across the hall, at Thorvald amid his supporters. No one spoke and no one appeared ready to utter the first words. Ulfrik broke the impasse.
"As ill-put and misleading as Thorvald made his argument, I cannot refute the basics. It does not change that we can still fight. But I have asked that of you twice already. I think now we must vote to fight or surrender. I can't have men in the shield wall who will run or not answer the battle call. If you are not prepared to defend your homes, then let's find out now."
He studied the assembly. His heart throbbed as desperately as if he were in battle. In fact, he was in a battle for his life. Surrender to Hardar would likely end in his own death. "All who are willing to fight, no matter the odds, show your hands."
All the men at the high table raised theirs immediately. Slowly others floated to the top of the crowd. But by a quick count Ulfrik saw he barely had a full crew for one ship. A burning ember fell into his belly.
"Is there anyone who has not decided? Show your hands." His voice was weak, defeated. No one raised their hands to his question.
Not enough men were willing to fight at his side. He could not prevail even with allies. To resist would be folly, costing more lives with a small chance for victory. Now his last duty to his people was to negotiate fair terms for surrender to Hardar.
The hall was deaf silent. Ulfrik nodded and turned back to his bench. His people had just killed him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"You can flee with us. Please, Ulfrik!" Runa was on her knees on the hard dirt floor, clutching the hem of Ulfrik's shirt. Her head flopped forward as she sobbed. Ulfrik stood like a man of stone. Tears streaked his cheeks, but he said nothing more. He searched around his room, eyes settling on his bed piled with furs. He hoped one day he would return to lie in it with his wife and his son and dream. But that required a mercy from the gods they were not likely to give.
"Fleeing will only bring Hardar and his mercenaries to the chase. And he might turn his wrath upon the innocent people left behind." Runa violently shook her head, but Ulfrik pressed his point. "His mercenaries own big ocean-going ships. We'd be caught, and once that happened, we'd all be killed."
"Then we would die together!" She looked up, her eyes red and face contorted with anguish.
"I can't abide that, Runa. I want you to take Gunnar to a safe place. Life is driven by Fate's plan, and this is what Fate has woven for me. Yet one more black strand. But not the last strand of my life."
Runa stood, her expression darkening and her voice dropping. "Do not speak to me like I'm a fool. Hardar wants you dead and you will deliver yourself to him."
"No." Ulfrik grabbed Runa's shoulders and she turned away. He guided her chin up to look at him. "My father or brother would have killed a defeated enemy. But Hardar is vain. Death is too easy for me. He wants to see me punished, degraded, vilified. Chopping my head off and hanging it on a pole is not imaginative enough for him."
"Are you comforting me? This sounds horrible."
"I have a plan. I will use his vanity against him."
Runa's eyes widened and the tight lines of worry eased on her face. "It's a daring plan, then?"
"The most daring plan I've ever made."
"The gods love a daring plan. It's what you've always said."
"Because I know it is true."
Runa's eyes searched his. A tear dangled from her chin, then splashed onto his arm. "You cannot die, Ulfrik Ormsson. And you cannot leave me. Ever."
"After this, I never will. But for a time we must be parted."
Her face contorted and tears flowed again.
Ulfrik drew her to his chest as she wept, stroking her ample hair. He inhaled the sweet smell of her, tried to impress the soft warmth of her body into his memory. Such memories would help him remain alive over the coming weeks. She quivered in his embrace and he pressed her harder into his arms, wishing he could squeeze the fear from her. His plans were daring, desperate, uncertain, but he could not let her fear
failure.
"Please, escape with us to a new land," Runa said, sniffling. "We can start anew. I don't care as long as we are together."
"The gods would not love that. No, Hardar has won. For now."
Ulfrik sat at his high table for the last time, aware even if his plan executed perfectly, life would forever change. The brief summer of the gods, the five years of prosperity he had grown heady over, now turned to winter. He journeyed into uncertainty, and his life was entirely entrusted to Fate.
Runa sat next to him, wrapped in a plain woolen cloak pinned with the deer antler pin she had carried from Norway. She had stripped herself of adornment, and stared straight ahead, expressionless. Beneath the table she crushed his hand in a cold, trembling grip. They both watched the hall door, waiting for it to open.
All the windows were closed, but the smoke hole let in gray sunshine. The door at the end of the hall revealed a rectangle of dull light before Toki entered. Halla followed him, and Snorri and Einar came close behind. The four shuffled to the front where Ulfrik noted their care-worn faces. He tried to force brightness into his voice as he addressed them.
"We have a few more things to plan before I leave. But first, how has my boy been?"
"Gerdie has him playing with his friends," Snorri said. "He's as happy as ever."
Ulfrik smiled and nodded. "I hope he will always remain so carefree."
The words crashed like dropped pottery. Ulfrik studied the table in embarrassment and Runa withdrew her hand. He cleared his throat and asked them to sit. Only Halla moved to a bench, but stopped when no one else budged.
"Many still support you," Snorri offered. He smiled but his voice crumbled as he spoke. "They wait for you outside, came to send you off. No one here wants to do this."
"Least of all me. But we are done with that discussion. I gathered you to discuss my plan. Snorri and I plotted all night, and it’s the best we can do." Ulfrik glanced at Runa. She held her chin up and stared at the back of the hall. "Hardar will not kill me, not outright. He will enslave me, make me tend sheep or row on his ships, something he considers humiliating. He will parade me around the islands to make certain everyone knows I'm fallen and disgraced."
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