"My dear sister, it's true that you've returned," Halla said with a false breathlessness that instantly set Runa's teeth clenching. "Why did you not call for me after you arrived?"
"Why disturb your rest?" Runa said, standing stiffer and feeling her hands tremble. She had avoided Halla since her arrival, and quartering her and Toki in another hall had made it easier, but she knew eventually they would have to interact. She just did not want it to be this moment.
"And how can I rest knowing my nephew is in the grip of a murderous wolf? When I close my eyes, I can only see poor Hakon suffering horrible tortures. No, you should've summoned me immediately."
Runa stared hard at her. Halla's pale eyes and snub nose reminded Runa of her father, and the same wicked glint as her father flashed in them when she described her fears for Hakon. Whatever appeal she held in her youth, age had stolen from her. The frown she always carried had written itself into her flesh, so that even the false smile she now wore appeared mean and angry. Her lustrous hair, once her pride, was now dull and thin. Halla was an evil witch, and Runa had always known this. What her brother saw in her and why he kept her all these years was a mystery and a curse for Runa.
"And so you have come and expressed your worry," Runa said. "Now I am tired and want to rest. Don't let me keep you."
"Never say it. I will be at your side during this horrible time. I will pray to Jesus Christ that Hakon is safely returned home and is spared agonizing torture, or worse yet, death. How trying it must be for you to know your son is being torn apart and you are powerless to act. I must remain with you!"
Runa's glare froze the room, and her vision fogged around Halla's face. She was actually smiling as she dug at Runa with her unconcealed malice. Through the haze, Runa saw Bera and her daughters fleeing the hall and the serving girls fading into the shadowed corners. She felt her eye twitching and her hand tingling to find the hilt of her knife.
"You little witch," Runa hissed. "You take joy in my son's terror?"
Halla's ice-clear eyes went wide with mock consternation. "How could you say that? I am your brother's wife, and the pain of his family is my own as well. I just can't stop seeing poor Hakon with his eyes torn out or his tongue cut from his head, or even worse."
"Silence, bitch!" Runa's hand drew back but stopped as Halla defied her with a honey-sweet smile. "Whatever you think I won't do, think on it again. You are testing me to my limit."
"Oh, so now it's Runa the Bloody once more?" Halla placed her blue-veined hands over her chest. "She solves all her worries with the stroke of her sword. Well, here's something she can't cut to bits and make go away. Her son is lost, no doubt due to her own carelessness, and her sword has no one to strike."
"Your head would be a fine place to strike," Runa hissed and reached down for her blade, but again stopped.
"Try it," she said with a smile. "Here's my head, ripe to be split. But you won't, will you? We are family, after all, and your brother loves me above all others."
"And for what I shall never know. You are worm-shit at the bottom of the world. You are a cockroach to be crushed underfoot. You are a pig-nosed, lying, evil-minded whore!" Runa's shouts echoed through the hall, and she recoiled at her unbridled anger. Her head was hot and unwanted tears puddled in her eyes. Her heart pounded as if she had run up a mountainside.
Halla moved closer, and her voice was low and full of threat. "You believe I wanted to come here? I'd sooner slice open my own belly than live within a thousand leagues of you. But your brother has suffered from the neglect of your arrogant, stupid husband and he could not be happy apart from this awful place. So I am here to please Toki, and he is glad for it. Slander me with whatever filthy names you can imagine, but I am a better woman than you. What do you bring to your husband but your complaints and demands, your temper and your fixation with swords? You weren't even faithful to him, and then you force him to father another man's bastard."
The slap crashed hard into Halla's face and staggered her. Runa's hand stung but the release of anger compensated. "I'll have your tongue for that. Never repeat such trash."
Holding her face, Halla straightened herself and brushed her hair aside. "Like you did when you murdered my mother?"
"Your mother was an oath-breaker who sent men to rape and murder me. Cutting out her tongue was mercy."
"No, you murdered her. That cut was ill done and her wounded tongue never recovered. She suffered for a year before dying from it, all while you rolled in bed with your young lover."
"I warned you," Runa said, raising her hand again, but Halla laughed. It was a horrible, breathless sound more akin to choking than laughter.
"I am not afraid of you any longer," she said. "Jesus Christ has blessed me and I fear nothing while I stand in His light."
"I see no light around you. Now be gone from my hall, and do not return. You can smirk all you want, but I will soon grant your wish to send you far from here. At such a time like this, all you can offer is grief. You are not welcomed here, and will not be permitted to stay."
"Your husband makes those decisions, and he has chosen to have Toki at his side. I think I may yet be here a while. So, as I said, dear sister, I will pray that Hakon does not have his balls sawed off and stuffed into his little mouth while he is abused by the captor you carelessly let into your so-called stronghold. You will need my prayers, since your own efforts as a mother are complete failures."
"Get out," Runa growled and pointed at the doors. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she no longer cared.
Halla inclined her head, her cheek bright red where Runa had slapped it. She glided halfway across the hall, then turned back to offer one last jab. "His face is ruined now, a horrible mess. Do you still want to lie with him, or was his prick destroyed in the fire too?"
Runa shrieked and leapt for Halla, but she sprang like a deer and bounded for the exit, laughing as she escaped. Runa stumbled forward, tears and dirt smearing her face, and bellowed at the doors as they slammed closed.
Chapter 23
Wet, cold, and out of food, Ulfrik and his hirdmen stood bedraggled and listless in the center of the destroyed Frankish hamlet. The sky was leaden gray, boiling with clouds that promised to renew the rain that had blanketed them during the night and the morning of the search. Groups of hunched, dark men made quick searches of the few buildings that had not collapsed into piles of rotting wood and thatch. Ulfrik stood at the center of the abandoned community, huddled in his cloak and frowning out at the work. Snorri leaned on a sturdy branch he had found to support him, and Ulfrik's peripheral sight caught him rubbing his leg and wincing. The damp weather aggravated his old wound. Even Ulfrik's old injuries hurt almost as bad as when they had been fresh.
Einar, who lead the search with Toki to aid him, emerged from the main hall and carried a bit of cloth with him. He held it up in the bland light as if it were something significant.
"Finally something," Ulfrik grumbled to himself, and started toward Einar. Snorri limped alongside him.
"Scraps and nothing more," Snorri said. "We can't even be sure Throst came this way."
Ulfrik had heard the same complaints from his men when they thought him asleep or out of earshot. He could not deny the truth of it. Throst's trail had long gone cold; in fact, it had disappeared almost immediately upon entering the forest. Toki suggested they had waded along one of several creeks, and it had made sense until no footprint or other sign of passage ever emerged along the length of any creek. Without a definite path to follow, he had nothing more than guesses to serve as his guide. There had been only so many places where Throst could have gone in such short time, but every one of them had yielded nothing. He began to despair, and left men behind to continue the search while he moved out toward ever less likely places. Now they were over the Frankish border, still not too far from Ravndal but farther than Throst should have been able to reach in the few days of searching. He had remembered this place from his early battles to secure these lands, and guessed it could hide Thr
ost. He would soon find out.
"I found this," Einar said as he held out a scrap of green wool cloth. "It was on the floor, beneath a table."
Ulfrik took the cold cloth into his hand, rubbing it between his fingers. Others began to join, and Toki arrived along with Konal. Both of them leaned in, and Toki took the cloth from Ulfrik's grip.
"You think this might be from Hakon?" he asked as he examined the scrap.
"There is nothing about it that would tie it to any man. It is junk," Ulfrik said, looking skyward as a pinprick of cold rain hit his face.
"But it is fresh," Einar added. "And there is sturdy furniture in the buildings and straw on the floor."
"And the midden pits have seen recent use," Konal added.
Ulfrik regarded their hopeful faces, but beyond them the hirdmen slowed in their searches, breaking into small groups that drew their cowls against the cold and sat on the grass. They knew what Ulfrik believed.
"Anyone could be using this place, likely bandits shelter here."
"But they have gone, and nothing says anyone was here for several days, maybe as long as we've been searching for Throst." Einar took the cloth from Toki's hand and held it up. "Look at this; Hakon wore a green cloak."
"Boy, every other man here is wearing a green cloak," Snorri said, drawing gentle laughter from the cluster of onlookers. Einar's face turned red, but he smiled.
"We've come far," Ulfrik said, patting Einar's shoulder. "But at last I have to admit defeat. Someone has been here, but we cannot say who or when. We're now in Frankia, and have been away from Ravndal overlong. The men are tired and hungry, and we've got nothing left to seek. At this point, I feel foolish for having gone this far afield. Without a doubt, Throst is playing me for bigger gains. He wanted sixty pounds of silver, and he will contact me for it."
"How did he elude us?" Toki asked, shaking his head and kicking the soft earth. "We scoured that forest. It's as if he flew from the ground and left no trace."
Shoulders shrugged and heads shook. No one could understand it. Men feared the forest, particularly at night, where they heard the voices of elves and dwarfs mock them in the darkness. Some believed Throst had made a pact with the spirits of the forest to cover his escape. Even Ulfrik, normally at ease in the woodlands, felt a strange sensation of being watched while in those dark woods. Had it not been his own son in danger, he would have long abandoned the search. When it came time to send Gunnar and Runa back, he did not lack for volunteers to escort them.
"Perhaps we might shelter here ourselves," Ulfrik said, again glancing skyward. "If the hearth can be lit, we can dry out and rest before returning home."
"So you're done searching?" Snorri asked, his voice carrying an edge of accusation.
"Done searching with these men, who never expected to be in the field for days. But I will never stop searching. I will have every road and path watched; men will sit on every ridge and hill and look for movement. I will lead patrols. I will not stop, never fear. Sooner or later, Throst will show himself and I will be ready to pounce."
The men grumbled in satisfaction, and Einar dropped the scrap of green cloth and began to organize the men to make camp. Toki and Konal lingered on, and Konal picked up the scrap again.
"Do you see something we overlooked?" Snorri asked.
"No," Konal said, stashing the scrap into his belt. "This Throst is a tricky bastard. We'll have to match him for it, if we're to catch him."
Everyone agreed, and soon they all drifted to different tasks to prepare for their stay in the ruins. Ulfrik remained with Snorri, folding his arms and studying the sky. Throst had won this battle, but Ulfrik swore to himself that he would lose the war.
Chapter 24
Throst checked Hakon's bindings a second time, pulling the rope tighter around the wrists until the boy squirmed with pain. Then he loosened the rope enough so the hands would not go dead. He patted Hakon's head. "Put on a smile, boy. I might trade you off today to a man who lives in a stone castle. Wouldn't you like that?"
The frown he received in answer reminded Throst so strongly of Ulfrik that for a moment he could have believed it was him. He slapped his captive's cheek with an open palm hard enough to get his attention but not enough to damage. Still, the frown remained.
"You think Odin watches you? If he does, then he is pleased to let you be my prisoner. Think on that, boy."
The hall was dark and the hearth fire guttered low with a rippling orange light. The air was fiercely cold and damp, and defeated the heat of the fire. His few men huddled around it. Dan's hulking girth blocked the doorway and was a black blot against a gray light as he watched for signs of approaching riders. Olaf, sitting with his back to the hearth and braiding his beard, continued to check the doorway every moment.
"Clovis will come, no worries there," Throst said as he joined the men by the hearth. The heat warmed his nose and cheeks, but his stomach was cold. Despite his words, he wondered if the mighty Clovis would merely send another in his place. It mattered greatly to his prestige that Clovis answer, as he had specifically demanded when he sent his messenger days ago. The men regarded him with flat expressions, neither believing nor denying. Eyes that glittered with reflected fire met his, and he nodded at each man.
He housed his mother and sister in the other functional structure, a smaller home with a hole in its roof but a decent hearth. Their time in the caves had made both sick with a phlegm-thick cough. In some ways, their illness had saved them, for Throst had noted the secret glances some of the men had given his sister. Olaf had been chief among those who stared after her. Fear of sickness kept Olaf and others at bay. After food, Throst decided, women would be a priority for his men, if only to safeguard his family. Perhaps his deal with Clovis could include female slaves as part of the bargain.
Throst half feared Ulfrik's return, but knew it would be unlikely. As he had predicted, Ulfrik had found their base but failed to realize its significance. They were all surprised to find he had camped in the hall, and had even left firewood behind when he departed. He would have to remember to thank him for saving the effort of gathering it.
Dan suddenly exited the hall, and Throst bounded after him with the others rousing from their place at the fire to follow. No one needed an alarm to hear the thunder of hooves beating the ground. Under the milky gray weave of clouds the flat light cast the riders in dead colors, greens, reds, and browns, all sapped of life. Five of them in scoured mail and the conical helmets of the Franks thundered into the center of the hamlet, pulling their horses to a halt. Throst saw his mother and sister peek out their door, and he waved them inside with an irritated snarl. No need for the Franks to know about them.
"We are here for Throst the Shield-Biter," proclaimed one of the riders in a thick, disdainful Frankish accent. "Show yourself."
"I am he." Throst had awarded himself the name Shield-Biter, thinking to add ferocity to his reputation. Men put much stock in such nicknames, and having a strong one was of utmost importance. "And are you Clovis?"
The riders laughed and Throst tried to keep the disappointment out of his expression, though the cold place in his stomach grew more chill. The tree branches behind the men waved in distracting arcs as the wind strengthened. Earth still wet from the rain seeped through his boots as he stood expectantly, but the men merely leaned on the necks of their horses. Throst regarded the animals with healthy respect, for they were thick-muscled and their coats lustrous. Apparently Ulfrik had not slain all of Clovis's horses as rumors told.
"Well, have you ridden this far to see how long we can stand idle in the mud? You've entered my land, and so you must identify yourself to me."
The riders hooted at Throst's claim, which he understood was overly grand and unenforceable. Still, men must hear words often before they believe them.
"You brigands are on Lord Clovis's territory," said the lead rider. "And by rights we should run through the lot of you and be done with it. But lucky for you, my lord was interested in y
our proposition. He has summoned you to his camp not far from here."
"I had asked Lord Clovis to join me at my hall." Throst relished the look of utter disgust his challenge elicited.
Spears lowered and Dan, who stood beside him, drew his sword. The others stepped back in fear. "You'll do more than bite your shield when I'm done with you, boy. I'll ram the whole thing down your throat before I poke a hole in your guts. Now you've been summoned to my lord's camp. Either come on your own accord, or come beaten and bloodied, but come."
Throst smiled as if being patient with a child. "I understand, and we will follow you to Clovis."
"Only you and Ulfrik's whelp," the lead man did not retract his spear and neither did Dan stand down. The rest of Throst's men hovered between flight and surrender. He would have to do better than this pathetic bunch if he were to one day be a great jarl.
"Very well, but I cannot be distracted with holding the boy hostage while speaking with your lord. Allow me one man to lead Ulfrik's son to Clovis."
The riders conferred with each other, reverting to Frankish. While Throst hardly spoke the language, he understood it well enough to hear their confusion over Clovis's instructions. Throst needed someone to hold a knife to Hakon's throat, lest Clovis seize him outright. At last he heard the riders agree one more would not be a threat, and the lead rider announced as much to them in Norse.
"Olaf, bring the boy and be ready to cut his throat if Clovis thinks to take him. Dan, keep these men in line and protect the honor of my sister." Dan lowered his sword with a scowl at the riders, and Olaf hesitated as if to protest then went to fetch Hakon. Throst scanned the faces of the remaining six men. "Hold out a while longer, and you will enjoy greater riches. Don't flee now, when greater wealth is just in reach."
Once Olaf emerged with Hakon, arms tied at his lap and a rope fixed about his neck, the riders turned their horses and guided them a short distance to a clearing where several tents had been erected. Clovis's banner of a white swan on a black square flickered and cracked in the wind and the tents billowed with each gust. Clovis had suffered greatly after the arrival of Hrolf the Strider and Ulfrik, but he was still a mighty war leader. That he took caution in dealing with Throst filled him with pride.
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