Islands in the Fog (30 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ulfrik sat on the dirt floor of the small house. Watery light filtered from the smoke hole, infusing the space with a cold glow. The house had been lived in until recently. The hearth still contained warm ashes, a striking steel shaped like an entwined serpent sat next to it. Wool blankets and furs piled on a bed as if thrown aside by whoever had slept there. A ruddy brown cloak hung on a peg. A knife impaled a chopping block.

Once the king had led his fleet and Kjotve's captured ships back to his docks, Ulfrik had been dragged away to this home. The man who shoved him inside said to wait and not come out. He was not a prisoner, but had been separated from the others. Hours had passed and restlessness tempted him to peek beyond the door.

Creeping up to it, he stretched out a tentative hand.

The door swept in, nearly slamming into his hand. Ulfrik recoiled, his face warm with embarrassment.

Framed in the rectangle of yellow light stood a bulky man. He filled the space. He wore a wolf pelt across his shoulders, making it seem as though he had no neck. A gleam of mail shined from the tears in his gray tunic. Shadow filled the man's face, turning him into an unruly black shape of lanky hair and fur.

"I'm sure you weren't thinking of leaving after you'd been told to stay inside." The man's laugh was coarse, as if the sound hurt him. He pushed into the room, backing up Ulfrik while speaking to someone out of sight. "You two stay outside. We'll be done soon."

The light from above splashed down his face as he entered. His head was broad, his hair and beard shot through with gray. A white lump of scar crawled over his left cheek up into his brow and forehead. A pale nub of skin filled the eye socket. He smiled, a genuine gesture unexpected from such a stern seeming man.

"Gunther One-Eye. Welcome to my home."

"Ulfrik Ormsson. This place seems too small for you."

Gunther sat on a bench, wincing and holding his leg as he did. He moaned. "Old wound acts up this time every year. As for this place, I hardly come here. At sea mostly, or sleeping in Hrolf's hall. I keep a woman or two, or my slaves might stay."

"And am I to be one of your slaves?"

Gunther shook his head, then stretched his pained leg and rubbed vigorously. "You go before my lord, Hrolf the Strider. He'll decide your fate. You'll meet him soon, which is why I'm here."

Ulfrik noted the gold and silver armbands, and the heavy rings he wore. "Does Hrolf send his best men to fetch prisoners?"

"No, you're my guest. Besides, you saved Hrolf's life. He'll reward you and let you go, most likely. I don't always know his mind. He's a true lord's son; you've heard of him?"

Ulfrik shrugged. "What about my crew and the other slaves? They are all my people."

"Their quarters are a little less comfortable. But nothing like Kjotve and those scum. Your people fought against him, which is not surprising. We've caught him before and the same thing happened. He doesn't ever learn, the oaf."

Ulfrik cocked his head. "But you let him go? You were waiting for him this time, though. Why?"

"First time he had people to ransom him. He had raided in the Orkneys, which are now all under Jarl Rognvald of More. High King Harald Finehair awarded him these lands. Hrolf's his son, and here to settle things. Can't have fools like Kjotve running amok. We heard news he traveled to Dublin for the slave market. So we ambushed him. And here we are."

Ulfrik turned to the bench behind him and sat. The two of them stared at each other across the short space. Gunther stopped rubbing his leg and pulled it in. The silence stretched until Ulfrik's curiosity bubbled over.

"Why am I your guest, Gunther One-Eye?"

"I saw how you led your men in battle. You led my men! You've got a spark, a voice of command. I've been a warrior all my life, and men like you show up once every ten years. So I'm saying you're interesting to me."

"And I hope that your lord will find me equally interesting." Ulfrik laughed and Gunther smiled. They spoke at length, Gunther explaining how the islands would prosper under Hrolf and his brother. Ulfrik knew the kingdom of More, one of the few that willingly absorbed into Harald's ultimate control. Hrolf was nobility, explaining his kingly presence. But Ulfrik worried that his connection to Harald might prove dangerous.

A voice beyond the door summoned them. Gunther stood and gestured for Ulfrik to go first. "The hall is nothing much to see. But it's where we going. Hrolf is ready to decide on you."

Outside, three more warriors fell in as they passed through the village. Chickens and dogs ran between buildings. A scattering of villagers were about their business, though they stopped to stare as Ulfrik passed. The long mead hall came into view. It was twice as big as any he had ever seen, though the construction was simple and unadorned. The doors already stood open, probably to let in the breeze.

They stopped at the entrance where two other men relieved everyone of weapons. Gunther took Ulfrik's arm and guided him inside. The hearth filled the hall with amber light and threw a wide circle of heat. A pot simmered over it, and mouth-watering scents wafted across the hall. Rows of tables pointed straight down to the high seat, where Hrolf the Strider sat.

He overflowed from the bench, such was his size. Two women sitting next to him seemed doll-like in size. Ulfrik had forgotten how imposing he was and it must have shown on his face. Gunther whispered to him.

"They call him the strider because he's too tall to ever ride a horse. He has to walk everywhere."

"Come up here!" Hrolf commanded, patting the table beside him. The two women backed away into the shadow. "Share a drink with me. I bet Gunther hadn't the hospitality to feed you."

Gunther chuckled and encouraged Ulfrik to thread his way to the high table. Hrolf rose to meet him, clasping his arm in a gesture of friendship. He felt his own grip lame compared to Hrolf's. They sat, Ulfrik waiting until both Hrolf and Gunther first took their places. The women who had disappeared now returned with horns filled with mead. Each man took one.

"You saved my life," Hrolf said as he raised his horn. "Never have I needed it, but for this time. I was too hasty in my attack. The gods sent me your sword and preserved me to make mischief again. I thank you for it."

Hrolf and Gunther both drank, and Ulfrik followed. After so long with nothing more than sour water, the mead tasted like pure honey. He guzzled it, turning the horn upside down on the table next to the others. "You honor me, Jarl Hrolf. We have a common foe in Kjotve the Rich."

"That we do. He's ruined now, of course. He is tied to a post in a barn, where he shall remain until ransomed. Or he can show me where his treasures are hidden."

Ulfrik smiled. "So you have taken him as your own hostage."

"Of course. I captured him and all his crew. I know you expect to claim him as your own. Perfectly understandable for a man in your situation. But that moment would not have happened if I had not waylaid his ships."

"And what is my situation, Jarl Hrolf? Gunther has told me I am his guest."

Hrolf laughed. "And so you are, as well as mine. You saved my life, Ulfrik Ormsson. You were a slave then, but a freeman now. Let us eat before speaking further. I am sure Kjotve fed you fish tails and bones. Time for something better."

Serving girls returned with wooden bowls of hot mutton stew. Ulfrik's mouth flooded as he waited for Hrolf to eat first. Gunther grunted and nudged him with his elbow. "Eat as much as you want."

Halfway through his first bowl, he felt a burning shame. His men and the others were still so-called guests somewhere else.
What have they been fed
, he wondered.
I have already filled myself with meat and mead and never a thought for those who followed me. I am a disgrace
.

"What's wrong?" Hrolf asked. "Too accustomed to fish tails and bones to eat anything else?"

Ulfrik sat up from his bowl, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "I have forgotten those who serve me. Until I know their fates, how can I feast and drink?"

Hrolf replied with his mouth full of stew. "I'm as cruel as a shark, and as ravenous as a wolf. But for my friends, I am a seal pup. Ask Gunther. It will be my undoing one day." He paused to swallow, then met Ulfrik's eyes. "All those who we freed are being cared for. Some of your men were wounded. Some died. The other slaves, if they are yours, are kept together, comfortable but not free. Until we know each other better, I will keep your group separated. You understand."

"I understand. I would like to see them soon."

"You will, but eat first. Then tell me more of yourself. You are an interesting man, quite a force in battle even in your terrible condition. Gunther thinks you are something special. It's quite a compliment, as I consider Gunther something special."

Ulfrik finished his meal, then pushed his bowl aside. "Jarl Hrolf, I will tell you the whole, long truth of my story. When it is done, if you can abide what I tell you, then I will ask a favor."

Hrolf nodded slowly, giving a careful look over Ulfrik's shoulder to Gunther. "I will hear all there is to tell, then if the favor is in my power you shall have it."

With a long sigh, Ulfrik started his story. He began from his childhood in Grenner. He hoped the telling would not bore Hrolf. He told it quickly without embellishment. Hrolf asked questions, smiled at the mention of certain names, laughed when he learned of Ulfrik's relationship with Kjotve and Thor Haklang. The battle of Hafrsfjord did not even elicit a raised brow. Ulfrik feared Hrolf's commitment to the high king, but also felt Hrolf's commitment was lax. Finally, he ended with Hardar and how he became Kjotve's slave.

"The mead has made me careless of time. But that is the whole truth of my life." During the telling, Ulfrik had stood and paced the behind the high table. Recounting every injury and defeat, every fleeting joy and victory, filled him with restless energy. Hrolf and Gunther twisted around on their bench, now leaning back on the table.

"I have a skald who must hear this story," Hrolf said.

"Such a tale should not be forgotten," agreed Gunther. "Fate has woven a strange destiny for you."

"Not so much strange as it is frustrating. How many times must I start anew?" He immediately felt foolish for showing his bitterness. His father would have been more in control. Ulfrik could not stop thinking of him, now that he had summoned the ghost of his memory.

"Start anew as many times as it takes," Hrolf said with mild surprise. "If you can stand, you can fight. If you can fight, then you must."

"True wisdom, Jarl Hrolf. So my role in Hafrsfjord does not bother you?"

Hrolf stared blankly as if waiting for more. Finally he looked at Gunther with a bemused smile. "My father is sworn to High King Harald, yes. I have no need for high kings, least of all Harald. He's a blood-thirsty, ambitious snake. A crafty war leader, too, unfortunately for us."

"But your father's oath ... I am Harald's enemy ..."

"And the mead has clouded your mind," interrupted Hrolf. "Do you see Harald here? I obey him when I see him. Otherwise, we are all freemen. We settle the land, raise farms and families. Since the day Odin made the first man from a branch of ash we have been free. We make the kingdom, not the king. Piss on Harald and his taxes."

Gunther slapped the bench in agreement. "Besides, more than half of everyone here is a fugitive from him."

Ulfrik exhaled and laughed. "Then we are agreed. Now there is the favor I would ask." He paused for Hrolf's response. He extended his hand to prompt Ulfrik. "I ask freedom for all the people taken in slavery with me, my men and the men of my enemies."

"That is not a favor, but a decision I've already made."

"Thank you, Jarl Hrolf. The favor I seek is transport back to the Faereyjar Islands for all of us. Kjotve took our weapons and mail. If you find these among his possessions, then I would appreciate their return. I will have my revenge on Hardar and end his curse upon my lands."

Hrolf and Gunther exchanged knowing glances. Ulfrik felt his chest tighten and his neck tense. Hrolf met his eyes, and spoke softly. "After hearing the story you told, I don't suppose you will be persuaded to stay with me? I could make it worth your while."

"Nothing would persuade me. My wife and son await me."

"Understood. This is such a simple favor, that I'm almost insulted. I owe you this much for what you did. But, it will fulfill my obligation to you. My life repaid with a return of your own. I will give you fine weapons and mail, better than whatever you had. I will put a gold armband on you and send you to anywhere my ships sail. Once this is done, no debts are owed. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Ulfrik stifled his smile. He could see Runa and Gunnar now, standing on the shore to greet him.

"But," Hrolf interjected, then paused. He gave Gunther a sly look before continuing. "I think you would be mistaken to take that offer."

"There is no mistake in returning home and seeking vengeance for myself." The words rang defensive in his ears, but he did not care.

"Following your request, you will have to raise your own fighting men. Your enemy, Hardar, was weakened and Kjotve gutted his allies. But do not underestimate what has happened since you left. Maybe he has new friends now. Maybe he took credit for destroying the other lands, and cowed other jarls to ally with him. Point is, you may not find it easy to take back what you lost. I think I can offer you a chance to do to Hardar what he did to you."

Ulfrik felt tension mounting in his neck. "And I suppose this offer of assistance will end my freedom."

"Hardly. You swear an oath of service to me. We become allies. I now offer you more than an escort, but men to fight by your side. Two of my ships, and you have all the men Kjotve took plus whoever else you can rally to your cause. You will crush Hardar and anyone fool enough to stand with him. Victory is assured."

"How will you hold me to my oath? Hostages? My son?"

"Your word is your word, is it not?"

"Kjotve thought not."