Banners of the Northmen

by Jerry Autieri

  "Ships that sail north never return. I don't care what men say; there's nothing but sea monsters and ice to be found there. Norway is fouled with a high king, and I'll never pay his taxes. Same for your home of Denmark, so please don't tire me with that suggestion again."

  "Gods know I would not want to tire you."

  "And the Svear and Baltic people would war on us until death." Ulfrik began to pace, oblivious. Runa tucked her head down to forestall a laugh. "So where does a man create a kingdom, when kings have already taken everything?"

  "Odd how kings do that."

  "Respect, Wife! Respect! I am serious. There's nowhere to go, but to build a kingdom here." He stamped the earth with his foot to emphasize his words. "Made from Ymir's last rotten tooth, this fucking island is the only place."

  Runa waited, watching him stare at his foot. She realized her own foot tapped, and she halted it. "We can go to Hrolf the Strider. He is your sworn lord and oath-bound to provide safety and justice for you and your people."

  He lifted his face to hers. Hrolf had been the unspoken threat for the last three years. More than anything the two cousins could do to ruin Ulfrik's dreams, a single word from Hrolf could ruin more. Runa understood this, and eschewed his name. Yet undeniably, Hrolf owned Nye Grenner. Ulfrik had sworn loyalty to him in exchange for his aid in defeating Hardar. Hrolf now controlled their lives, though he had never visited nor asked anything of them.

  "Have you no shame?" Ulfrik said, his voice low. "Can I crawl a second time to him, and beg his aid?"

  "Now you respect me. You know I'd not mention him lightly. I don't want to go upon my knees any more than you. But if the cousins are breaking your nuts like you say they are, then visit him. Ask him to lend you gold or men, or both."

  Ulfrik spun away and considered her words. She unfolded her arms, then entwined them around his waist. She whispered to his ear.

  "Just think on that idea, which I'll remind you is a new one of mine. You've tried to raise the gold on your own, but a loan could work just as well. Pay it back out of the spoils. Men do that all the time, don't they? They loan you their lives, and you repay them with gold. There's no shame in it."

  Ulfrik clasped his arm over her hands, and rubbed them gently as he thought. "A loan might work. I could raise more men at least."

  She hushed him, tightening her hold. "Just think for now. Winter will arrive and keep the cousins busy with survival. But we can plan and prepare for spring."

  She felt his posture relax, then he sighed. "Let's get home before Gunnar wears out Toki. The boy not only has your looks, but has your energy."

  Runa laughed, allowing herself a moment of satisfaction. War was at hand, she did not doubt, but for a short moment she had controlled a small portion of her destiny. Arm in arm with Ulfrik, she walked home and hoped she would never have to abandon it. Yet intuition told her she would not die on these lands, and that crowded her satisfaction with fear.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Two of the high-sided ships floated at sea as the third glided for the shore. Ulfrik and his men had assembled in haste, but with enough time to don mail and helmets. His guts roiled along with the ocean waves ramming onto the stony beach. Two ships were bad enough, but a third ship meant his doom.

  "They're waving a hazel branch," Snorri said, craning his neck forward and squinting.

  "Just spotting that now?" Ulfrik asked, hitching his shield up his arm. "They've come far if it's real hazel."

  Snorri spit on the grass and grunted. Ulfrik observed the ship skipping across the dull green waters; a hulking figure standing in the prow cut boldly against a stone gray sky. Animal pelts wrapped his shoulders, giving him the look of a hulking bear. His long, thin hair streamed off his high forehead as he waved the branch.

  "Hazel branch or no, it could be a trick," Toki said, flanking Ulfrik's other side. "How many times have we done the same?"

  As men leapt into the crashing surf to guide the ship ashore, the air rushed from Ulfrik's lungs and his body slumped. Both Toki and Snorri stared at him in surprise, but Ulfrik clacked his sword back into its wooden scabbard. "My wife has a power to summon men with her words. Only two days ago did she mention Jarl Hrolf."

  "Ulfrik Ormsson," called the fur-clad man as he steadied himself on the prow. "Put away your weapons. Your old friend has returned!"

  "Gunther One-Eye," he explained. "One of Jarl Hrolf's closest men. Snorri, you remember him."

  "Course I do. The man can drink a lake of mead and walk away from the table."

  Ordering his men down and to break formation, Ulfrik laid his own shield in the grass. He started down the slope, relief pulsing through his body. Had the ships been filled with enemies, the fight would have been bitter. He arrived at the edge of the grass and waited.

  Gunther One-Eye stomped ashore with both arms out as if greeting a lost son, a ragged smile on his scarred face. He had not changed in the three years since they last met. His face remained a horrid mass of scars, with a thick worm of white flesh tangled into the socket of where his left eye had been. Gray streaks flowed into his hair from his temples and from his chin into his beard. The only difference Ulfrik noted was Gunther had grown out his beard and gathered it at the bottom with a gold ring.

  "You look fat and happy, Gunther." He strode forward, meeting Gunther at the edge of the surf. They clasped arms, then clapped each other's backs in greeting. Gunther's cloudy eye glinted, and his yellow teeth showed in his smile.

  "And you look like you've missed me. May the rest of my ships come ashore? We've sailed far, as you know."

  "Without delay, friend. And you'll come to my hall to eat and drink, and wash the sea salt out of your face."

  Horns blared on both sides, to signal Gunther's other ships and to signal Nye Grenner's hall that danger had passed. Ulfrik waited in awkward silence as Gunther's crew disembarked. He glanced at the hall, seeing Runa the first to emerge with a sword and shield in hand. He smiled at the sight.

  As the other ships pulled ashore, Ulfrik left Toki to greet these men while he and Gunther proceeded to the hall. He tried to hide his anxiousness, noting how Gunther's single eye managed to appraise every building and person in Nye Grenner. He was grateful for Gunther's silence, who instead turned his attention to Runa as they arrived at the hall doors.

  "As beautiful as ever, your wife. Now with a sword to match her temper." Runa's eyes widened and her mouth gaped. Gunnar, who had clung to her side, suddenly stood before her as if in challenge. Both Ulfrik and Gunther laughed. "And your son has grown fierce and strong!" He growled at Gunnar, who flinched but remained before his mother. "Braver than his father, too!"

  "And another son in the hall as well," Ulfrik said.

  "You've not been idle with your success, I see!"

  Laughter eased both Runa’s and Gunnar's stances. Ulfrik introduced Gunther again, both to Runa and to the other men. Most had never met Gunther, though Thrand the Looker had. His greeting to Gunther bordered on disdain, and Ulfrik glared him into a better welcome. Others who remembered him were warmer and Gunther shocked many of them with specific memories of their details. "You've got a sharp memory for a drunk," Ulfrik said.

  "Mead sharpens the mind. Now let's go sample some of that famous drink of yours!"

  Ulfrik welcomed them into the hall with a wan smile. He let them pass inside, each man laying his weapons at the door as custom demanded. Runa followed Ulfrik inside, and whispered over his shoulder, "I'm worried about this."

  "That you summoned him out of the past?" he whispered over his shoulder.

  "No! That he's here with three ships. Are we in trouble?"

  "We'll find out."

  He shepherded Gunnar along with Runa into the darkness of the hall. Moments of embarrassing confusion ensued as the villagers who had sheltered against a possible raid filed out and Gunther and his warriors entered. Runa assumed command of the transition, and held several girls back to assist her in the hall. Gunther chuckled, and his men stood in
patient attention. Ulfrik caught Humbert leaving with the others, but barred him with his arm.

  "Master will need Humbert?"

  "You stay where I can see you. Forget any plans for taking advantage of the confusion. Go see my wife for instructions."

  Moving from battle readiness to hosting guests proved a jarring and complicated transition, one that frustrated and embarrassed Ulfrik. Fortunately, Gunther One-Eye smoothed everything over with easy laughter and wry comments. One of his crew had a horn pipe, and played a tune while the hall settled. "He's a lot happier than I remember," Snorri quipped at one point. Ulfrik agreed, but wondered as much as Runa did at the meaning of his arrival.

  Ulfrik had passed a wearisome afternoon entertaining nearly one hundred guests, and now sat at the high table with Gunther and his bodyguards. Toki, Snorri, Einar, Ander, and others of Ulfrik's men had joined them. The hall reverberated with loud talk and laughter, and despite the chill night, sweat beaded on many faces. Doors and windows hung open and stars winked in the indigo squares.

  Gunther's arrival had forced Ulfrik to slaughter two lambs and open a cask of winter ale. Runa had prepared a sumptuous stew from the fresh goat meat and blood, and the thick aroma filled the hall. She leaned over the iron pot with a ladle, and caught Ulfrik starring at her. He smiled, but she looked away. Later, once the feast had ended, in bed, he feared her anger. He had no doubts how strongly she opposed draining winter stocks for an extravagant feast. A glance at her bearing and he heard every complaint ringing in his mind.

  Gunnar stood behind Ulfrik and he felt his son leaning close. Gunther drained his horn, dropping it across the table then wiped his thick mustache with the back of his hand. He fixed his single eye on Gunnar, then leaned toward him.

  "Does my eye scare you, boy?"

  Gunnar shook his head, but Ulfrik felt him press closer.

  "He thinks you're Odin," said a hirdman seated beside Gunther, who exploded in laughter. Ulfrik put a comforting arm over Gunnar, and drew him forward.

  "That right, boy? Do you think I'm Odin? Sitting with your Da and drinking his ale?"

  "No, lord," Gunnar ducked out from Ulfrik's arm, his face reddening. "I wondered how you lost your eye, lord."

  "Your manners are a compliment to your father." Gunther raised his brow at Ulfrik. "He calls me 'lord' and not 'a drunk.' Did you hear?"

  "I did, but he'll learn soon enough."

  More laughter lightened the mood, and Gunther wiped his face with a paw-like hand. He leaned down to Gunnar's height and met him eye to eye. "Odin sacrificed his eye to Mimir for a drink from the Well of Wisdom. But old Gunther got his plucked out against his will."

  "How did it happen, lord?" Gunnar's eyes widened, and his fingers drifted to his own eye.

  "With a spear. One moment's distraction in a shield wall, and an enemy spear plucked away my eye. Just like that!" Gunther jabbed at Gunnar's eye with a gnarled finger, causing him to jump in surprise and drawing laughter around the table.

  "Did it hurt, lord?"

  "Hurt?" Gunther leaned back, a bemused smile twisting his lips. He glanced around the table before answering. "No, it didn't hurt. At the time I was too drunk to notice."

  Men hurled backwards in an uproar, even Ulfrik burst out laughing. Gunnar's blush deepened as he smiled, and Ulfrik guessed he missed the humor.

  Soon the meal was served and Runa and her women circulated through the crowd with steaming bowls. Humbert had been pressed into reluctant service, filling mugs and drinking horns. He distributed them with an expression that made it seem he handled urine rather than ale. He spilled a horn over someone's head, Ulfrik guessed intentionally, and he received a reflexive punch that sprawled him on the dirt floor. Another was following, but Gunther stopped the man with a shout.

  As the feast proceeded and men ate and drank, then sang songs or told riddles, Ulfrik's mood lightened. Even Runa, now seated beside him with Hakon on her lap, smiled and laughed. For a short time, he forgot his worries and reveled in celebration. However, each time he met Gunther's toasts with a raised mug or answered one of his simplistic riddles, dread smoldered in the pit of his gut. He still did not know Gunther's purpose.

  At last, late in the night when most of his men were face down on tables or fallen beneath them, he lifted his one eye to Ulfrik's. True to memory, he had consumed copious volumes of ale but remained sitting straight and clear-faced. Ulfrik had paced himself, knowing the moment for real talk would require his full wits. Gunther's single eye drifted to Runa, who sat defiantly for a moment before rising from the bench.

  "A good night to you, then," and Runa strode toward their room where Gunnar and Hakon had already gone to bed. Ulfrik watched her go, then turned to Gunther.

  "You didn't just come to sample my hospitality." He gestured Snorri to slide closer while Toki, Einar, and Ulfrik's other trusted men leaned in to listen.

  "Your hospitality is as great as it ever was, nor has much changed in three years." Gunther's single eye squinted, while the ruined flesh of his other eye wriggled. "I expected you'd have expanded since defeating Hardar."

  Ulfrik sighed, while his men bowed their heads or turned away. "After you left, winter was hard. Every winter has been hard. It took all my wealth to rebuild, and to rebuild Ingrid's lands. And ships and weapons cost, as you know."

  "That they do," Gunther agreed. "But I thought you wealthier."

  "I was, but I had lands to the north that now need tending, and blood prices to pay after the war with Hardar." Ulfrik found himself glancing at the red-faced and frowning Thrand the Looker, who sat at the farthest end of the high table. "Summer raids have not been good. We're just returned from one that barely paid for itself."

  "Why not raid farther south? What's wrong with Mercia or Ireland?" Gunther belched, then raised his horn for another drink. Humbert emerged from the darkness to fetch the horn.

  "We can't be gone so long. Hardar's cousins harry us. They just robbed me of half my flock. Imagine what they could do if I were gone an entire summer."

  Now Gunther turned away and a few of his men smirked. Realization sparked for Ulfrik.

  "You've come to summon me, haven't you? Jarl Hrolf has not forgotten me after all."

  Gunther sighed, nodding his head. "Jarl Hrolf the Strider is summoning all bondsmen to attend him with as many men and ships they can muster. You have a month to prepare and travel to the meeting place in Denmark."

  Ulfrik straightened, then steadied himself before speaking. He projected confidence into his voice, though his mind raced through the depressing implications. "Hrolf makes war on the Danes, then?"

  "Not at all; he has allied with them. Jarl Sigfrid is a mighty Dane, much like Jarl Hrolf. He had led an army to Frankia and demanded payment from their king. He refused, and now Sigfrid plans to plunder Frankia as a show of strength. He spoke with Jarl Hrolf, and the two made a plan to assemble a great army."

  "Like the great army in England?" Ulfrik had heard stories of the great army's victories against the Saxons, but considered them overblown.

  "A greater army," Gunther spread his arms as his voice rose with excitement. "This army will swallow the Franks. We are going to sail up their rivers and destroy everything in our path. Sigfrid is demanding seven hundred pounds of silver!"

  Ulfrik sucked his breath at the enormous sum, as did others gathered to listen. "Even a king would struggle to raise that much silver."

  Gunther and his men laughed. "Now I know you've been on these islands too long. The kings of Frankia are wealthy beyond imagining. But wealthy and weak. Their fat bastard of a king couldn't even hold a knife in battle. The king is a reflection of the people. We'll stomp the Franks into the earth if they find guts enough to oppose us."

  Gunther's men grumbled and nodded in agreement. Humbert, hovering at the periphery with Hrolf's refilled horn, used the moment to present it to him. Ulfrik watched the slave, who trembled as he handed over the horn. He recalled the promise of hidden gold inside the walls of Pa
ris.

  "Tell me this, do Hrolf and Sigfrid plan on attacking Paris?"

  "More than plan on it. The fortress town is on an island in the middle of the river that gives access to the richer cities beyond."

  "The Seine," said Humbert, who lingered at the table. His dark eyes flashed and he glanced hopefully at Ulfrik.

  "He speaks Norse?" Gunther asked.

  "A little," Ulfrik said. "He is a Frankish priest I've taken as a slave."

  "He'll be useful to you then. But yeah, it's called the Seine or something like that. It's a big river with plenty of ripe towns along the way, waiting for us to beat the gold out of their churches. How do like that, slave-priest?"

  Men laughed, but Humbert did not flinch. Instead Ulfrik saw a wave of irritation pass across his face.

  "So you've come to summon me and my crew, but find us under attack. I'm afraid I can offer only two ships at best." Ulfrik looked to Toki and Snorri for support, and both nodded. Gunther's laughter died.

  "Then it's two ships you bring. I ensured Hrolf remembered your name, and came to ensure you didn't miss this chance."

  "Gunther, I appreciate your troubles. Yet being away over winter will invite disaster come summer. If word of my absence travels north, my enemies might even dare a winter attack. I am bound to protect my people."

  Leaning back on his bench, Gunther's expression flattened and his men looked to him for a reaction. Ulfrik held his gaze steady. The two regarded each other for long moments before Gunther replied.

  "First, we will be returned before summer. The Franks cannot withstand an army of Danes and Norsemen. We'll rip them apart and leave rich as lords. Second, you are bound to serve Jarl Hrolf, and that comes before anything else. But third, and this is most important, I want you there."

  "Why? I'd bring eighty more men to share in the spoils. It's better if you had less."

  Gunther waved his hand between them, wrinkling his nose. "Jarl Hrolf sees to me, no worries there. You must go because Jarl Hrolf sees farther than Sigfrid. There's potential in Frankia to not only demand wealth but land as well."