Islands in the Fog (33 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Ulfrik awoke with his face on a dirt floor. He scratched at it, and fear flashed through him. He flipped over, expecting Hardar's pug-nosed face to appear above him. Instead he saw tendrils of smoke inching along the ceiling, entwining the rafters. He heard a few low voices, and remembered where he was.

"There's the great drinker!" Gunther One-Eye's voice hit his head like a hammer. "You and your friend together couldn't put me under. What did I promise you?"

Ulfrik's mouth was stiff and dry, a burning thirst consumed him. "You promised I'd regret challenging you."

"But you couldn't resist!" He chortled and his companions joined him. "Ragnvald can throw a feast, I'll offer you that. If he can fight like he can drink, then maybe we should try harder to get him on our side."

More laughter made Ulfrik's head ring. He stood, brushed down his shirt and hair. He pulled away bits of straw caught in his beard and pants. Snorri slouched over a bench, gave a bleak smile over his shoulder. "My age is showing."

Ulfrik moved stiffly. Ragnvald's feast had been the first good thing he had experienced in months, and he had overindulged. Now, in the unforgiving clarity of the morning, he felt ill physically and mentally. His wife and son were lost, maybe even dead. He hit his head to clear his mind, but also to chastise himself. He shuffled to the bench and seated himself.

Ingrid sat across from both of them. Her pale eyes flashed cold disdain, her face a mask of snow. She perched on her bench, making Ulfrik think of a hawk. He knew the talons were ready to strike.

"Lord Ulfrik, you are causing me great doubt. My family, all of our families, are relying on your plans. Getting drunk and falling into a puddle of your vomit is no way to help anyone. You know there is no time to waste. How clear are you this morning? Could you defend yourself if Hardar surprised us here?"

Ulfrik stared at her. She was right, and he hated it. "I've got to piss."

He shuffled away, leaving Gunther and his crew snickering. Rather than pissing inside, as he often did, he fumbled outside and let go on the wall beside the door. Steam rolled of the wetness pattering on the wall as he considered next steps. If Ragnvald would not assist, neither would anyone else. He had to learn the situation at Nye Grenner for himself, which meant sending spies or handling it on his own.

He ambled back inside, where no one had moved and Ingrid sat in frigid anger. Returning to Snorri's side, he cast around at the expectant faces. "Someone needs to see what's happing at Nye Grenner. Who can we send?"

"Didn't Ragnvald tell us everything we need to know?" Gunther asked. "He's hired some farmers to supplement his own men. We only need to kill them along with Hardar."

Gunther's crew laughed but Ulfrik shook his head. "I value Ragnvald's insights, but I need to know what is happening today. This is my one chance, one I cannot treat lightly. Someone must go to Nye Grenner."

Ingrid cleared her throat. Ulfrik ignored her, still suffering the embarrassed sting of her words. "Would not the best person for this be you? Who knows the land better?"

"I'd lose my temper the moment I set foot there. I'm the worst choice. But someone should be sent immediately. Gunther, someone from your crew would do. One of my own men will guide him."

"I've got a boy on my crew who's like a shadow. I can send him if your man won't give him away."

"I'm sure Ragnvald would lend a small boat, or someone could spare one for the right payment."

Gunther frowned. "I'm supposed to grow wealthier on this adventure. Whatever I spend is coming out of your take."

"I'll take my share in Hardar's teeth." Laughter rippled across the gathered crew, but Ingrid winced. Ulfrik fell silent. The shame only lasted a moment. "Come now, Lady Ingrid. He's no longer your husband. You're planning this attack with us, you'll remember."

She waved her hand before her face, her own blush forming. Satisfied, Ulfrik turned to Gunther and explained how to best approach Nye Grenner and where to hide. Men came and went as he detailed the plan. Ragnvald later joined and agreed to help secure a small boat for the job. After most of the morning had passed, all was ready and Gunther's man rowed off with his guide.

Ulfrik and several others joined Gunther to wish them luck as they departed. If the gods were with them, they would make landfall by night, or so Ulfrik had planned.

"I hope the sea remains flat," Gunther said absently. "Or that leaky barrel you claim is a boat will capsize."

"Ragnvald said it was all he could get us on short notice. We have to trust to the gods." Ulfrik heard the insincerity in his own voice.

"You'll pay the man's gold price too, if he doesn't return. So you better make good with the gods."

Once the small boat disappeared from sight, they headed back toward Ragnvald's hall. Ingrid blocked Ulfrik's path, stopping him and Snorri. Gunther smiled and continued on with his men.

"So we just wait?" She shifted her weight to one leg and folded her arms. Though Ingrid grew more beautiful as bruises faded and flesh refilled the bony spaces of her frame, Ulfrik found her less attractive each time he saw her.

"I don't expect to wait more than three or four days. Once we know the situation, we attack."

"What about our families?" She looked between Snorri and Ulfrik, her eyebrow arched.

"As I've said, we can't search for them now and risk announcing ourselves."

"I know where they could be, or might have been."

Ulfrik's eyes widened. "Then why not say something earlier? Where do you think they have gone?"

"The Irish monks. They keep a monastery not too far north."

"I know it, the only holy place of the new god without any riches. Why would they go there?"

A breeze caught Ingrid's hair, blowing it across her face. She tossed her head, and looked north. "My hus ..., I mean Hardar, tried to marry my daughter to a man named Erp. She was very young at the time, but even then headstrong and prone to running from trouble. She stole a golden broach from me, traded it for passage to the monastery. She begged the monks to hide her."

"Did they?"

She smiled, wistful and distant. Her voice dropped as she answered. "For a short time. But they knew better than to anger her father. The monks wanted her to become a Christian. We found her before the monks could work their spells to bind her to their god."

"So why go there now?" Snorri's voice was a gruff intrusion on Ingrid's dreamy tone.

"Because no one else will help her. The monks help those in need, as that is the sacrifice their god demands along with taking no women to their beds."

"Now that seems more of a danger," Ulfrik said. "How long can even a holy man resist a beautiful woman?"

Ingrid smiled strangely at him. It caught him so unexpectedly that he felt a chill. She laughed lightly at his discomfort.

"We could check the monastery while we wait for the return of Gunther's spy," Snorri said. "It's a short journey, and worth it."

Ulfrik agreed. The three of them resumed their walk to Ragnvald's hall. The silence felt awkward, and Ulfrik could not resist another question. "What happened to Erp?"

"He died." Ulfrik and Snorri stopped, but Ingrid continued a few paces before turning with a wry smile. "Of fever, of course. Halla was so plain about her dislike of Erp that he gave up on her and I agreed the marriage deal was best abandoned."

"And Hardar didn't force her?"

Ingrid shrugged. "Erp was my idea, not his. He felt she could marry higher, and bring him better connections. My father still lived then, if only in body and not in mind. He respected me more when my father lived."

They returned to the hall and shared plans with Gunther, who agreed to take them to the monastery. Ulfrik started preparations, hoping that Runa and Gunnar awaited him there.

"You really think you're going to find you wife and son?" Gunther asked as he helped Ulfrik aboard his ship.

"There is no harm in trying, and it sounds like it could be true." Ulfrik leapt the rails to land on the deck.

Gunther shook his head. "Maybe you should sacrifice to the new god to be sure. Burn some fish. I hear that's what the new god likes, besides gold and silver."

"The new god is like any other god. If we entertain him, he will reward us. If we don't, he will forget us."

Ulfrik stretched his back, the healed lashes still tender and sore. Gunther scratched his nose, then spit.

"From the looks of these lands, nothing but grass and rocks covered in bird shit, I'd say all gods have forgotten this place."

Gunther laughed at his wit, but Ulfrik gazed over the beach and did not disagree.

Hardar knew no hidden treasure existed. The torture would have wrested its existence from Thorvald. Now his head monitored the docks, freshly severed and placed on a spear. But better news had arrived, and Hardar now waited outside the blacksmith's forge. It was already splashed with blood from the last interrogation, and so became Hardar's slaughterhouse.

The day was uncommonly humid, and Hardar fanned himself as he waited. The whole village was silent, not even a gull squawked. He heard the struggling men long before they arrived down the dirt lane. His second, Dag the Sword-Bender, shoved a young man at spear point. An older man followed, held between two other hirdmen. They deposited the two before Hardar.

"You're spies for Ulfrik." Hardar did not need to ask, only to confirm. The two men looked up, the younger one nodding.

"Don't say anything," snapped the older man. Hardar felt his stomach burn with anger.

"When is the attack coming? Tomorrow?"

"You'll get nothing from me." The older man raised his jaw and scowled at Hardar.

"That's fine. You can still help." Hardar picked up the hammer that he had used to break Thorvald's hands. "You two, put his head on that anvil."

The man scrabbled back, but the hirdmen held him tight. He sounded like he might be babbling about Ulfrik. Hardar did not care, as the younger man would reveal everything. The hirdmen shoved his head down to the anvil and Hardar smashed the man's skull. He screamed and flexed, but Hardar slammed again until the head flattened and blood and fluid plopped to the dirt floor. The body slipped to the base of the anvil and more gore gushed from the broken head.

He pointed the dripping hammer at the young man. "That was a mercy. You'll be tortured for days unless you talk now."

The young man's mouth fell open, and a stain bloomed at his crotch. Hardar laughed and lowered the hammer. The words flowed out like his urine. "Gods, I'll tell you anything. I'm not Ulfrik's man. I belong to Gunther One-Eye. He'll ransom me good, anything you ask. He likes me, he does. Plenty of gold in it for you."

"Tell me everything and I'll consider it."

The young man told Hardar about Ulfrik and all he knew. Hardar stopped him at the mention of Ingrid. He could not believe she cooperated with Ulfrik. The thought made him quiver and bite his lip. The man continued to detail the fighting strength of Gunther's troops. When he finished, Hardar gave a solemn nod to Dag.

Dag rammed his spear through the young man's back. He fell forward, blood rushing out of his chest where the spear tip exited. Dag let go of the shaft as the man died with a whimper. His body plopped alongside the other dead captive.

Hardar left the others to clean up, with an order for Dag to join him at his hall when finished. His cousins had also returned, though without the fleet he had hoped to see. He strode into the hall, everything black as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Someone open the smoke hole and let in some light."

His order bounced around the hall. Everyone had fled him shortly after Thorvald had begun screaming. He jumbled around for the draw rope and opened the smoke hole himself. The bright light splashed the room, and lit his high table. He seated himself there to await his cousins, who joined him just as he began to grow bored.

"How many?"

"Enough," said Thorod.

"Twenty more men," said Skard. "And they expect good pay. Did you find the rest of the treasure?"

"Twenty? Who sent them?" Hardar wanted to avoid mention of payment. His wealth had vanished.

"They come from all over," Thorod said as he seated himself. He picked at his fingernail as he continued. "They are desperate men. That you've been sacked and ruined is well known. The only men to come were those who will take any chance to earn silver. Otherwise, no one believes you can pay for anything."

"And neither do we," Skard said and folded his arms. Hardar began to stand, anger pulling his neck and face tight. But Skard leapt forward, his fist in the air. "You had us believe you could pay. We left our homes to help you, brought our men here to find glory. You can't fucking pay us, can you? It was a lie."

Hardar sank down. He could not deny it any longer. His voice was a low grumble. "I can pay you, but not all your men. Nor all the other men. I am without gold. For now, though. Once Ulfrik is defeated, there will be no more threat to the land. We can go a-viking, raid for treasure in Frisia or Frankia, anywhere in the world. I can make us wealthy again. My family, our family, will be the greatest the Faereyjar ever knew."

The hall door opened and Dag entered. Hardar welcomed the distraction. Skard’s and Thorod's gazes followed Dag as he joined Hardar at the high table.

"You cannot delay paying these men," Thorod said, continuing where his brother left off. "We are family, and we are sure of being repaid. But these others, they might rebel. They might flee the battle if they doubt you, and they do."

"What my brother is saying," Skard raised his voice over Thorod's, "is that you have lost this fight with Ulfrik. His return has marked your end."

"Never!" Hardar shot to his feet, his face hot and eye twitching. "He stole my daughter and my wife. He overstepped his bounds. He'll never be equal to me, never. I will fight and I will win."

"You won't," Thorod whispered. "You're paying men to fight for you, and your poverty has become famous. If you can't pay, the men will disappear."