Sword Brothers (39 page)

The fire in Hakon's stomach flared. He was no whelp and Hrolf knew it, but he reconsidered his outburst. Of course, it was a parley to Hrolf and insults were expected. Hakon had a different purpose for this meeting. "Jarl Hrolf, my father has left me all his men. You will treat with me as you would with him."

"Is that so?" Hrolf now finally looked at Hakon. His clear eyes were full of anger. "Being that he's an outlaw, I'd treat him no differently. You and all of the men on that hill will be dead before the sun reaches the crest of the sky. That is my promise to you, and of all people you should know I will make it so."

"Your skill at war is never questioned," Hakon said, warming to his role. Hrolf would bristle and bluster, but Hakon had to remain strong but respectful. "But it is my hope that no man on either side of this line need spill blood in battle today."

Hrolf barked a laugh. "You have strange hopes, boy. You have brought an army to fight, and corrupted two of my jarls. Blood must flow from that."

"They are here to seize your attention, Jarl Hrolf. Would you sit and listen to me any other way?" Hrolf snarled, but he did not answer. "I intend to negotiate a peace for all sides today. Many have died already, good men and women whose lives have been ruined for the Church's ambitions on my father's land. My mother was killed by an assassin's blade covered in poison."

"That was nothing of my doing," Hrolf said, and Hakon thought he heard a note of genuine sorrow beneath the bluster. Hrolf had always liked his mother, as far as Hakon knew. "I would never stoop to something so base."

"Of course you would not," Hakon said. "But Mord Guntherson would, and it is his plotting that has forced us to meet today as enemies rather than as the friends we have always been. He was not content to see us forced out, but wanted my father dead. I know you must deny your knowledge to the people, but among us we all know you are well aware of what happens in your land."

Hrolf's protests again stumbled and he did not shame himself with an answer. Hakon stifled a smile. "By now Mord Guntherson is dead. His lands are smashed, the Franks who aided him are destroyed. My brother, Gunnar the Black, even now is burning Mord's hall to ash and hoisting his corpse onto a tree so that ravens may pick his bones."

Hrolf glared at Hakon, then turned to Einar. "Were you part of that?"

"I only wish that I could have been, for Mord is a rat deserving of death. Others gave their aid, names you would recognize as long-serving jarls. There is greater discontent with some of your choices than you realize, Jarl Hrolf. Ulfrik is now returned and focusing that anger. You would be very wise to listen to all that Hakon will offer today. For while you may have the strength to fight us, you would falter in your duty to your new king. How can you protect his coast while you war with your own people?"

"My father and I have spread the call to battle far among the world," Hakon said. "We have drawn hungry men to Frankia, and many more are yet to arrive. You can either turn them back with the full support of your people, or you can beg King Charles for help in fighting one or both. Either way, you have lost face. Let me help you avoid that."

"Your charity is commendable," Hrolf said through a sneer. "But it is you and your father who will need help. I am sorry you returned, Hakon, for you were a fine warrior in your time. You as well, Einar. Both are a loss to me, but a loss I can replace. Make your threats, but I will not be swayed."

Hakon looked to Einar, and he gave a slow nod. Hakon let the silence speak for him and Hrolf's sneer began to melt.

"Do you not wonder where my father is? You believe he would set his family and most loyal friends in opposition to you with only what you see here? I would never have thought to call you a fool, Jarl Hrolf, but I can think of no other word to fit. Here is what has been done to you already and my offer of terms to you."

Hrolf's face grew red and Hakon realized he had pushed Hrolf far enough.

"Ulfrik is right now leaving Rouen with your son, Vilhjalmer, and your wife, Poppa. Gunther One-Eye's head has been placed on your throne, so that you might remember what happens to those who betray my father. Your family will be treated well, but if you fight me today, you will lose your wife and son."

Hrolf's face dropped and lost all color. "This is a lie."

"Go back to Rouen, Jarl Hrolf, see if we have lied or not. I swear to you on my honor that we will cease attacking your farms and people, and will pull back beyond the Seine. When you are ready to talk, Ulfrik will offer you a truce. Poppa will be returned to you, but Vilhjalmer will remain a hostage to peace for three years. Ulfrik has left you his oldest grandson in Rouen as a show of good faith. We have come to the edge of a terrible decision, Jarl Hrolf. You must either rescind your decrees, forced upon you by the Church, or stand with the priests and watch your kingdom splinter. Take the easy path. Speak to my father under a truce."

Hrolf's jaw ground and his face burned red. His nostrils flared as he leaned close to Hakon, his voice rough with threat. "When I see your father again, it will be to tear his head from his shoulders with my own two hands."

"That is an unfortunate choice," Hakon said. "I was fond of your son. But his death will not pain me as much as the death of my mother. We will drop the body on your land, so you may bury him with dignity."

"I will dine on your heart tonight, Hakon Ulfrikson. Your father has made an enemy this day that will fill his future with sorrow."

Hrolf spun away with his men, and Hakon felt himself sinking. Einar and Hauk both also slumped in defeat.

"Let us prepare for battle," Hakon said, then turned up the hill knowing he walked to his death.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Ulfrik sat with his sons at the high table for the last time. Gunnar sat at his right, a gloom hanging over him that no amount of good news could relieve. Hakon sat at his left. He smiled with the joy of a man who had escaped death. Despite his threats, Hrolf had withdrawn back to Rouen and Hakon had not lingered to see if he would return to make good on his threats. Aren stood behind him, pacing with worry for the final details of this plan. Reunited as one family, Ulfrik swelled with pride for what his sons had done together. They had brought the mightiest jarl ever known to heel. Hrolf's messengers had promised he would arrive with only an honor guard of one hundred men.

Mord had kept his hall in good condition, and it looked much like it had when he had abandoned it. Ulfrik had feared to return here, expecting to see ghosts of both Runa and Snorri hovering through the darkness. The first night sleeping alone in his former bedroom was too hard to bear, and Gunnar sent a woman to comfort him the next night. After business with Hrolf finished he would burn this hall and never think of it again.

The rest of the hall was a mixed mood of optimism and fear. Finn and Oskar remained close, Finn eager to impress the jarl in hopes of wedding his daughter. She had captured Finn's heart and Ulfrik was glad for them. Oskar smiled often, but when he believed no one looked his brow creased with worry. No doubt he wondered if he had joined the wrong side in this clash. Beyond them Einar and Hauk shared a drink of mead together, each man sitting silently with their thoughts. Einar had sacrificed more than anyone, and his loyalty and friendship had touched Ulfrik. Einar's family had even journeyed south to show support, and to be nearby if an unexpected retreat was needed. Finally, his three oldest companions in arms, the jarls Ull, Ragnar, and Hafgrim, laughed and boasted with their men as if enjoying a visit with an old friend. Ulfrik supposed it was nothing more for these men. Like him, they did not know what to do with peace, and the recent conflict had raised their spirits.

"If only Runa were here to see this," Ulfrik said, more to himself than anyone else. "She would be amazed at what we have done despite everything placed in our way."

"Well, it's not done yet," Aren said. "Hrolf could be preparing a trick of his own. He's had weeks to do so."

"No tricks," Ulfrik said. "We have his family, and if he has calmed himself by now he will realize this has all been done for his benefit more than mine."

"He'll thank you for kidnapping his family?" Gunnar asked.

"I don't expect that, but he has lost face with his jarls for bending to the Church." Ulfrik paused to drink the last of the mead plundered from Mord's holdings. "He can set things right with them and still make it seem as if he was coerced. His beloved Church will also have to understand. It's a perfect escape for him. He won't bungle it with a surprise attack. Who would trust him again?"

Doors to the hall hung open and beyond them the shadows grew long. Hrolf would arrive before twilight, and Ulfrik wanted to check Vilhjalmer and Poppa before he arrived. He stood and excused himself. Outside the scars of battle still remained etched into the ground. Horse tracks and a crisscross of ruts marred the earth. The ground had drank the blood and the bodies cleared, but still packs of crows pecked around the dirt discovering missing fingers or bits of hacked flesh. Splinters of broken shields or spear shafts littered the fields, mixing with the autumn leaves rolling over them.

Hundreds of tents housed the various jarls' warriors while they awaited Hrolf's decision. Ulfrik moved through the camp for a barracks that had survived Gunnar's destruction. It was surrounded by thirty guards on duty, and the camps around it were positioned to face the building. Ulfrik took no chances with his royal prisoners. At the doors, he nodded to the guards who lifted the bolt.

Inside, the long hall smelled like fresh lilac and the sweet scent of burning wood. The central hearth burned low, and beyond it a group of women surrounded Hrolf's wife, Poppa. With these women were both Elke and Morgan, and his granddaughters Hilde and Thorgerd. The conversation was low and amicable. They faced Ulfrik, all the women standing but for Poppa whose smile turned to a frown. Ulfrik nodded to them, but instead looked to Vilhjalmer who sat on a bed with his legs tucked up to his chest.

"Your father will be here soon," Ulfrik said to him. "Speak with me for a moment?"

He slipped off his bench without a word and they both went outside. The guards barred the doors behind them as they left. They walked into a field when Ulfrik stopped and faced Vilhjalmer. "I expect your father to agree to my terms. So you and I will be spending more time together than you expected."

"I've been thinking about that," Vilhjalmer said, his expression unreadable. "When you swore loyalty to me, and I helped you escape, did you know this would happen?"

"Never. Until Runa was murdered, I expected to resettle in England or elsewhere, then once your father cooled I would contact you again to see what we might do together. Now, I have given myself over to revenge and nothing more."

"I see." They continued to pace in silence, but Vilhjalmer seemed more set on leading this conversation. "So you have broken your oath to me?"

"I can't very well keep you hostage and be sworn to you at the same time."

"You can if I command you so." Vilhjalmer smiled. "I've spent weeks imagining how I was going to kill you when this was done. But now I realize this is what I actually wanted. As your oath-holder, I demand you and I turn our sights on new conquests. You could wrestle with my father for your old lands, but I think it's best if you plan to relocate. There is a group of foolish jarls who abandoned you, yes? I say it's high time one jarl set himself over all. Let that be you, and let me fight at your side."

"I agree," Ulfrik said. "But if you were to die in battle, then what? I cannot allow that risk."

"No man dies before his time," Vilhjalmer said. "If I am to die in these next three years, then it will happen no matter your worries. Better I fall in battle than fall off a horse."

They stared at each other in the late afternoon light. Vilhjalmer smiled like a child about to receive a long-awaited gift. "And of course, with me sworn to you, the lands we take will eventually become part of Normandy. That is how you bring me back into the fold."

"See? You can be smart and strong after all!" Vilhjalmer slapped his shoulder. "It's not only good for you, but good for the future of your sons and grandchildren. You don't want to be left in dishonor, not for all you've done. And I get out from beneath my parents and earn a name for myself, as well as join new lands to my father's. No one loses."

Ulfrik opened his mouth to agree, but blaring horns announced the arrival of Hrolf. Instead, the two shared a knowing smile, and Vilhjalmer clasped arms with Ulfrik. He said, "My father will curse your name forever, but I think even he would agree to this."

Hrolf was preceded by thirty men who prepared the way, inspected both Vilhjalmer's and Poppa's conditions, then returned to escort Hrolf. Ulfrik awaited him outside the hall, with his sons and allies flanking him. All the camp stood ready for this meeting, and when Hrolf the Strider finally entered with his one hundred men, he had Brandr following him in the care of a priest. That made Ulfrik's stomach turn, but he ignored the boy for now.

They met as equals and neither spoke, Hrolf glaring down at Ulfrik. He was dressed in mail, covered in jewels, and his helmet was rimmed with a crown. Ulfrik held his steely gaze but decided he had best give in first.

"Welcome, Jarl Hrolf, and my thanks for making this long journey."

"Fuck the pleasantries. Where is my family?"

Ulfrik's smile faltered, but he regained himself. "They will be returned to you once we have agreed to terms. Hakon has explained these to you."

"Three years of peace. Vilhjalmer remains with you. I keep your grandson. Then we return hostages and I proceed to tear your heart from your chest. Yes, he told me all about it."

"You've added some of your own imaginings, but yes, those are my terms. Also, I wish to remain on this land until I secure another home. There will be peace and I will not even look toward Normandy nor Frankia. There are other lands ripe for conquest."