Shield of Lies (30 page)

Opening his mouth as if to protest, Ulfrik waved his hand. Einar helped emphasize it by stepping forward. The messenger dropped his gaze.

"You will be fed this morning and provisioned for your return trip. You have my answer to your lords. I will meet with them in two days, enough time for you to deliver my reply and to prepare."

A flurry of activity followed as Ulfrik stood and dismissed the Franks. He retired to the back of the hall, while he waited for Einar to lead the Franks out and prepare them to leave. Runa stood close at his side, whispering harshly. "What are they doing, sending messengers? Do you think the boys are all right? What happened to Throst? I beg the gods that he did not hurt Hakon before ransoming him."

Ulfrik folded his arms and frowned. Runa's questions bounced around the periphery of his thoughts. She continued her worried chatter, and he slipped a comforting arm around her which did nothing to slow her. Snorri joined them, and Einar returned. Even Konal, barely able to move, had struggled to draw closer but surrendered to a bench farther away. They all look expectantly at him.

"I'll not surrender our homes. Hrolf would never allow it, not without good cause."

"They're our family," Runa blurted out. "Our children are not good cause?"

"Not for Hrolf," Ulfrik said, and both Snorri and Einar nodded in solemn agreement. "The silver I can pay, but the land I cannot. There is but one choice now. I must get inside Clovis's fortress myself and free our men."

Einar snorted at the idea. "And after that we shall slip inside Paris and take it as well."

"It's true, lad. Getting in might not be tricky, but getting out is." Snorri limped to his side and dropped a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be trapped."

"We'll walk out the front gate," Ulfrik said. "I'm not planning to fight my way out. Once inside, I get a hostage of my own. Clovis himself would be a prize, though I'd be sorely tempted to kill him instead."

"It sounds like a plan made to go wrong," Snorri contended.

"And do you foresee Hrolf pulling in his borders? I am the jarl of Ravndal, but Hrolf is jarl over all. If I gave up this land, even if it is mine to surrender, he would outlaw me without a thought. All these years of service to him would matter not at all and we would have to find a new land. Is there a place where there are no kings? Who would have me, an oath-breaker? For I've sworn an oath to hold this border in Hrolf's name and if it costs me my sons ..."

The words died and he slumped forward, placing his head in his hands. The room was quiet enough to hear rats scurrying in the corners of the walls. His oath to Hrolf was an iron band around both of his arms and as impossible to break. When he looked up again, Runa was staring at him expressionless. His words must have wounded her, but surely she had to understand their truth. He shook his head, and she turned away with closed eyes.

"If only we could get to grips with Clovis," Konal said, his voice strained with the pain of his wounds. "We would destroy him."

"You forget all those horsemen," Einar said. "This Baron Theodoric's strength will embolden the Franks."

A depressed silence settled upon them again. Finally, Aren tugged at Ulfrik's shirt sleeve. He looked down at his son, his face serious and eyes strangely glittering. Ulfrik thought he hurt for the suffering of his brothers, and he stroked his head as he held the boy close. Aren pulled back, and Ulfrik looked at him in confusion. He did not want comfort, but to speak.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Why can't Hrolf help us fight them? Doesn't he protect you like you protect us?"

Ulfrik's first thought was that he had protected no one, but he saw the men sit up straighter at the suggestion.

"Gunnar and Hakon would be killed if we attacked," Konal explained. "That is why hostages are difficult to handle."

But Ulfrik was searching Aren's face. The boy had all the innocent hope and simplicity of youth, unencumbered with adult concerns. Konal continued to lecture, and the others bowed their heads and nodded with somber agreement. Runa hid her face in a trembling hand.

And Ulfrik began to see his way out. Aren stared at him, and his eyes widened when he saw Ulfrik's confidence blooming.

"Aren is right. Hrolf will aid us and we will defeat Clovis and save all of our men. My sons included."

Konal stopped chattering, every head snapped toward him. Ulfrik could not help but smile.

"Does it involve taking King Odo hostage?" Einar said, folding his arms.

"Not at all. In fact, I will give Clovis everything he wants, then destroy him."

Chapter 45

Ulfrik camped his army on the wide fields outside of Clovis's fortress. He left no one but the elderly and children behind Ravndal's walls. Nearly three hundred warriors arrayed themselves in an arc just beyond bow range of the wooden palisades surrounding Clovis's stone castle. Ulfrik's banner of black elk antlers on a green field fluttered from a pole erected before his tent. Rows of white tents billowed all around, filled with fighting men and craftsmen as well as all their families. It was as if a new village of cloth had spouted overnight in the dead grass of the fields.

The morning air bit hard with autumn cold, and the late dawn warned of the onset of winter. Ulfrik stood beneath his banner, hand shading his eyes as he strained to see the activity from Clovis's stronghold. Nothing appeared to stir.

"I will go with you," Runa said, emerging from the tent behind him. "Aren will stay with Konal and Bera."

"It's not a woman's place to attend the parley of men." He did not take his eyes from the distance, nor did he put any great stock in his words. They came unbidden through his preoccupied mind.

"Then I won't parley, but slice that bastard Clovis from crotch to throat and pull out his heart."

Smiling, he faced Runa. She wore fresh clothes of green and brown, with a full skirt and overdress of white. The curly ringlets of her hair splashed freely over her shoulders and accented her wild individualism. She remained the only married woman to eschew a hair cover. "No pants? Fighting in a skirt is a guarantee of defeat."

She did not acknowledge the taunt, but set her chin at the horizon. "What if he will not grant the delay you need?"

"Then he is a fool, for he would not get the land he desires. He doesn't want to kill our sons; it would cost him all his advantage." He neglected to state Clovis would rather maim them, not wanting to alarm Runa even though she knew that threat as well as he. She nodded silently at his assessment, leaving the two of them absorbed in their shared worries for their children.

In time, Einar approached with his picked men. Halla followed them, and the defiant tilt of her head warned that she would not be denied. Ulfrik's guts churned, for it was an ill thing to have so many women present at a parley. Twelve other men were imprisoned and many had wives or lovers who could make an equal claim to join them. A dozen weepy-eyed women were the last thing he needed at his back, even if they were all as murderously capable as Runa.

"She can't join us," Runa said flatly, and with that simple statement annulled their truce.

"You've no right. My husband is a hostage for your foolish quarrels with the Franks. I demand to attend."

"You demand?" Runa's voice rose and Ulfrik stepped between them.

"Both of you be silent. Stop acting as children. Halla may join, but both of you are to remain silent. Do you understand?" He glared at them, Halla smiling in triumph and Runa with arms folded in grudging acceptance.

Snorri limped up to the group, leaning on a spear and scanning them. "What a sad bunch this is. You couldn't scare a blind grandmother, never mind the lords of Frankia. Save your hate for Clovis and his scum, and maybe you'll do us all some good."

Chastened by Snorri's criticism, Ulfrik twisted his neck and loosed his shoulders before ordering the group to move out. Einar had already ordered the warriors into blocks of spearmen who would be ready to charge at any sign of danger. Ulfrik and his group of a dozen bodyguards passed through them in silence and made for the black walls of Clovis's fortress.

Its gate opened and a group emerged. Men lined the ramparts above it, bows readily visible but too distant to be a threat. Clovis's standard of a white swan on a black square unfurled above the group as Ulfrik waited.

The two groups met and only the wind rushing over dead grass made any sound. Clovis stood at the center, resplendent in his scoured mail. At his right stood a man who could only be Theodoric, such was his refined and clear-lined features. A white scare was all that marred his regal face. Clovis's son was at his left, and he appeared pasty white and ill. He clutched his ruined stump to his side, and looked nothing like the vibrant man he had met in battle last summer. Ulfrik made sure to let his eyes linger over the son.

A line of a dozen men formed behind these three, and Ulfrik did not see his sons among them. He schooled his expression, keeping any emotion from it even as his anger festered. He folded his arms and waited for Clovis to open the negotiations.

"You have traveled this far just to scowl at me?" Clovis asked. "Have you brought the ransom with you? I could send your sons home with you this very day. You seem to have already abandoned Ravndal for me."

"The men behind me will march through the ashes of your pitiful hall if you cannot prove all my men are unharmed. Were your messengers too stupid to deliver such a simple warning to you?"

Clovis shared a smile with Theodoric, and both turned to the line behind them. "I have your proof."

For a brief moment, Ulfrik's stomach ached with fear that the head of one of his sons would be produced. Instead, the line parted and revealed Toki standing with arms and legs tied with enough slack to walk. Theodoric waved him forward and two men shoved him ahead in response. Toki snarled at them, but turned a smile to Ulfrik.

"Where've you been? A little long in getting here." His eyes slid past Ulfrik to both Runa and Halla behind him. He winked at them, and continued. "So you're thinking about getting me out of this mess?"

"Maybe not you, but your crew. You look tired, but well. Didn't you even fight these dog-shit Franks?"

He shrugged, and was about to reply when Clovis struck him on the shoulder and yelled. "Enough, tell them about his sons and your men. Be quick."

"These cocksucking Franks have not harmed any of us," Toki said, emphasizing his words with a sneer at Clovis. "Gunnar is unhurt, and Hakon is thin and weak but that was Throst's doing. He's held in another room from Gunnar and me, so we only met once. We're on the top floor while Hakon is below somewhere. He cried for joy when he saw us, even in this state. I've not seen my men or know where they're held. Clovis promises they're alive, but that's all I know."

Ulfrik nodded, paying careful attention to the directions Toki provided right past the Frank's understanding. His Danish accent probably impeded their understanding, and so they missed that he was providing details of how to rescue them.

Snatching Toki back by his arm, Clovis shoved him into the care of guards who then escorted him to the back of the line. He looked one time over his shoulder, and called Halla's name before the men cuffed him to silence.

"So now you have your assurances," Clovis said.

Ulfrik noted how he continually resisted glancing at his own son. Gunnar remained intact for now, but that constant pull of Clovis's eyes to the stump of his son's hand warned that he could think of little more than inflicting the same fate on Gunnar. The son was worse than the women Ulfrik had taken to the parley. He wilted like a cut flower out of water, and his arm tremored. Sweat beaded on his head, and the fear emanating from him shamed all the Franks. The only reason for his presence had to be as an unspoken threat against Gunnar. For now, if Ulfrik understood correctly, Theodoric held the ransom for Gunnar, Toki, and the crew, while Clovis held only Hakon. So Gunnar was safe from Clovis while Theodoric held him hostage. Ulfrik counted that a small blessing.

"So I have been satisfied, and I will pay your ransoms."

Clovis drew breath for a rebuttal, but then realization struck. Both he and Theodoric paused in amazed silence. Theodoric was the first to rouse himself, speaking in poor Norse.

"A wise decision, Jarl Ulfrik. So much blood has been spilled already, and you cannot stand against us any longer. Your people will love you for your wisdom."

"My people will be homeless and poor, and I will be broken and shamed. No one will celebrate that." Theodoric shrugged in agreement. "The silver you demand of me is far greater than what I possess."

"Don't claim poverty now," Clovis interrupted. "You and your vermin have overturned every church and home from the coast to Chartes. You stood at Hrolf's side when Bishop Anscharic delivered wagon-loads of silver to ransom Paris. By all counts you are a wealthy jarl."

"You have imagined a fatter prize than I really am, poor Clovis. But the amount is not beyond my means. Hrolf is generous and, though it galls me, I shall beg a loan from him. He is a man of tremendous honor and would never fail me in my need. Now I ask if you are a patient man or a fool? Such sums of wealth are not raised overnight, and delivering it requires care against bandits. I need two weeks to raise the funds and prepare it for you."

Folding his arms and turning his head aside, Ulfrik anticipated flat denial. Instead, Theodoric answered. "You have one week, no more."

"That is half the time I need!" Ulfrik held his head, exaggerating his dismay. A week was all he required for his plans. "You cannot demand this of me."

"It is more than I would allow," Clovis shouted, glaring at Theodoric. "If you are late, I will hang one of your men for every day overdue. I will start with your dear brother. And if all your crew are dead I will move on to your sons. I will cut off a limb for each day you make me wait until both your children are no more than stumps."

Ulfrik waited for Theodoric to countermand Clovis, and a chill silence spread as the Frankish lord stared at him. At last, understanding a response was expected, he shrugged. "It is a fine plan. Do not waste time with your mouth hanging open, Ulfrik. One week from today we begin killing. When your men are no more, I will come to collect your head."