Islands in the Fog (11 page)

Ulfrik watched the sweat trickle over his twisted nose. Runa sat next to him, frozen over her breakfast of salted whale meat. The hirdmen lining the tables held still and silent. Warm sunlight from the smoke hole framed the hall in a bright block.

Blinking away the shock, Ulfrik regained himself. "Gather the people to the hall. Summon the rest of the hird to the slope."

Ulfrik's wooden voice lacked power, but men snapped to their duties. Meals were abandoned and drinks spilled as they rushed to retrieve their weapons. Already a horn sounded. Ulfrik closed his eyes at the sound. "War again. How far must a man travel to escape it," he spoke to himself, rubbed his face, then faced Runa and Gunnar.

"What's happening, Father?" Gunnar's eyes were wide behind his dark bangs. He sat on Runa's lap, watching the hirdmen rushing from the hall.

"You will stay with your mother." Ulfrik looked into Runa's eyes, her face taut with fear. He brushed her cheek and whispered to her. "It may only be a show. Do not worry, wife. He is eager to embarrass me."

"I hope that is all he is eager for," she replied.

Ulfrik had no more time to spare. Snorri was behind the last of the hirdmen squeezing out of the hall. Ulfrik heard shouts and hurried voices. He pulled Snorri's arm. "Hold on. You need to get Toki and those two women. Bring them to the slope as fast as you can. I will stall Hardar, provided he isn't seeking battle."

Snorri nodded. "He didn't waste any time getting here. Do you think he knows already?"

Ulfrik shook his head. Snorri jogged off while a line of women and children queued at the entrance. Ulfrik returned to his room to wear his mail and helmet. He snatched them off the rack, toppling it in his haste. He gave the hall to Runa, who was organizing and calming the confused people cramming inside. Nye Grenner had never been raided, and many had never experienced that terror before. Ulfrik hoped they wouldn't experience it today.

Outside, his men formed a loose block of gleaming helmets and sparkling mail. Thorvald's talent as a smith was unparalleled, and it showed in the state of the hirdmens' gear. A crew of men were pulling Ulfrik's ships up slope to protect them from capture. On the sparkling turquoise water, three square sails of red and white billowed in the distance. Men crowed the forecastles, spear points flashing. Ulfrik joined Thorvald at the front rank beneath a pole flying Nye Grenner's standard, a flag of green with black elk antlers.

"Looks like Toki's adventure brought us a fight after all." Thorvald smiled without mirth. Ulfrik ignored him and addressed his men. He felt a swell of pride at how fast they had assembled.

"You know those sails. You know those men. They are Hardar's folk. You may have drank with them, sung songs with them. But if they step foot on our land intending murder, then you kill them. We protect our families, protect our lands. We are for Nye Grenner!"

Ulfrik pumped his fist to the sky and the men roared back and stomped the ground. Eighty men in mail coats raised a massive din aimed at cowing the approaching foe. Ulfrik turned to face Hardar as his sails trimmed and the ships glided to the thin strip of beach. He stood out on the prow of his ship. Despite his size, he gracefully leapt into the shallows to wade ashore. His crews piled out of their ships, dragging the vessels onto the beach. Ulfrik squinted at him down the slope.

Hardar's men huddled behind him like boys behind their mothers. They stood in the rolling surf for reasons Ulfrik did not understand. Seals barked on distant rocks, and the creak of leather and crunch of mail were the only other sounds. Ulfrik inhaled the sea air, waiting.

Snorri and Toki joined the front ranks. Ulfrik leaned forward to see Toki, his face haggard and drawn. "Your woman's father has something to say to us, and I doubt it's about hosting your wedding."

Everyone's attention turned back to Hardar. His men moved out of the surf but halted while he and two other men continued up the slope. Ulfrik raised his fist, and his men answered by stomping their feet and banging their shields in time. The thunderous sound stopped Hardar halfway up. Ulfrik held his chin high as the rhythmic beating intimidated Hardar's untrained men. He tapped Snorri and Thorvald. "You two come with me to witness what he has to say. Toki, you best remain here."

Thorvald planted the standard in the soft ground, then all three approached Hardar. He waited with his hands on his hips, standing before his two men. He wore freshly scoured mail that bulged tight around his middle. His breeches were white with red stripes, his personal colors. A scowl contorted his pale eyes as they searched Ulfrik's face.

"Just thought you'd bring the men by to say hello?" Ulfrik asked, then smirked.

"Where's my daughter?"

His stomach burned at the question, as he hadn't checked if she had accompanied Toki. He hoped Snorri would reply, but he remained mute. "She's ready to travel home. You can take her now."

Hardar's bluster faltered, but he scanned past Ulfrik and his scowl returned. "Then where is she?"

"She's coming, as soon as your men board their ships. You shouldn't have come with an army at your back. I might think you want to start a fight."

Hardar held his belly and laughed. Ulfrik shifted his weight and folded his arms, waiting for Hardar to regain himself. "Your wit is better than the last time I was here. Of course I come to fucking fight! You kidnapped my daughter and sent spies into my land."

Ulfrik frowned. "You misunderstand, Hardar. Your daughter ran away from you, and one of my men was love struck enough to want to save her. You have my word it was nothing more."

"Your word, eh?" Hardar flashed an evil smile, then tapped the man next to him. "Dag, give me the sack."

Ulfrik watched a black cloth sack that hung full and heavy pass into Hardar's grip. He plunged his hand inside while addressing Ulfrik. "Seems there is a misunderstanding. But it's yours. We found this man creeping around my hall."

Hardar yanked out a severed head, holding it by the hair. Ulfrik did not flinch, not a twitch. The face was slack and white, its features soft and distorted. But he knew it was Bork without having to study it. Poor Bork's milky eyes were rolled back and his tongue swelled to fill his open mouth. Both Thorvald and Snorri sucked a breath, and Ulfrik's men protested and shouted from behind. Ulfrik held up his open hand to silence them.

"I know the man, and he drowned at sea if the arrow hadn't done him already. The body must have washed up on your shores. You're playing a dangerous game, Hardar."

Hardar raised Bork's head higher. "Am I? You steal my daughter, hide her from me, and freely admit your men were spying in my lands. Yet I play the dangerous game." Hardar dropped the head into the sack and thrust it back to the man named Dag. "Turns out the arrow didn't kill him. We found him clinging to a rock, begging for help. He wouldn't cooperate even after saving his life. So we made him confess. He told us he was collecting information for you."

"That's a lie. You tortured him into a lie."

"That he was to report everything he could learn directly to you."

"Another lie, pig."

"So that when you invaded ..."

"Enough, you fucking swine!" Ulfrik's sword sprung from its scabbard. The blade hummed and flashed white in the sun. Hardar held still, the point of the blade inches from his neck. His hirdmen reached for their weapons, though Hardar raised a hand to stop them.

Snorri pulled down Ulfrik's blade. "You're letting him bait you. You're better than that. This is a parley, not a fight. Not yet, anyway."

Ulfrik licked his lips then rammed his sword into its scabbard. "You killed one of my men. You know the truth of what you did. Bork was innocent. That I ever admired you is the most disgusting error of my life. You'll take your whore of a daughter and be gone, never to return. If you even face south to take a piss I'll gut you."

Hardar's eyes drew to slits and he straightened his back. "I'll have my daughter and the bastard who kidnapped her. I'll have his head in the sack with the other one. Then I can say justice is done."

"How much do you want for his life? You know I can pay."

"I know you can pay. But his life is what I want. It's the only way I know my daughter is safe from him."

Ulfrik and Hardar stood with eyes locked. Ulfrik's hands began to tremble; the desire to draw his sword on Hardar was a maddening burn in his hand. But a chance for peace existed, and duty demanded he push for it. "Twenty pounds of silver is more than fair. It is a fortune."

Hardar slowly shook his head. The longer he resisted the more he seemed a pig to Ulfrik.

"Thirty pounds of silver. It's near all I have."

"Dumb as he is, the boy's head is probably only a pound. I'll take that and my daughter."

Ulfrik bit his lip. He repeated his offer, and Hardar did not respond. Ulfrik closed his eyes, a bead of sweat streaked down his temple. "If you are not back on your ships by the time I reach my line, I'll fill you with arrows. Return when you are prepared to reason."

Ulfrik spun on his heels, not waiting for Hardar's reaction. He stalked up the slope and barked his commands. "Rank up! Archers ready on my order!"

Grim as his mood was, Ulfrik smiled at the efficiency of his men's response. Shields clacked together into a wall. Spears bristled from behind. Then a block of archers stepped off the back ranks and placed arrows to their strings. The endless drilling and real-life raiding had forged true warriors of them.

Ulfrik reached his line and turned. Snorri and Thorvald fell in with him. Hardar's men were rushing to their ships, though Hardar lingered on the beach. He raised his fist. "I came alone this time, Ulfrik. But I will be back with others!"

Ulfrik ordered one of the archers to pass his bow and an arrow over to Snorri. Hardar continued to curse him as his ships were launching. "Snorri, put an arrow between his feet and give him something to think about."

Snorri smiled, took the bow and aimed. Hardar saw the shot lining up and stumbled back. Snorri released and the arrow arced down the slope to stick at Hardar's feet. He danced away, falling backward into the surf. A wave broke over him and Ulfrik and all his men burst into laughter.

Hardar staggered to his feet and slogged to his ship. Once aboard, he came to the stern and hurled more curses as the ships' oars dipped into the water, pushing them out to the fjord.

"What happened?" Toki asked.

"We just went to war with the strongest and most popular man in all the Faereyjar Islands."

CHAPTER NINE

Hardar craned his neck forward, straining to see against the rosy light of evening. All three of his ships bobbed and drifted with the rolling tide. Gulls screamed above as if daring him to sail. "This is unbelievable," he muttered to himself.

"They don't look hostile," Dag offered, standing below Hardar in the prow.

"Six ships beached on my shore with crews ranked up look friendly to you, Dag? Save me the strength and throw yourself overboard."

"Lord Hardar, they could've burnt the whole place to cinders by now. And those are big ships. Why not capture us and have done with it? They could do it, I think."

Hardar grunted at Dag's words. He jumped down to the deck and surveyed his men.
The fools shit themselves when Ulfrik's warriors threatened
, he thought. They stared at him with wide eyes and slack expressions. He had to speak before one of them started crying for family left behind.

"All right, I don't know where these ships came from or what's waiting for us ashore. They obviously see us, and they're not attacking. Yet. So let's get ashore and learn what these dogs want." He added under his breath, "As if I don't already know."

Hardar waved his hand overhead to signal the other ships. He strode between his men back to the tiller, each watching him as he passed. Ignoring them, he grasped the tiller and bellowed. "Row, you dogs, or I'll put the whip to your backs!"

Their ships nosed toward the shore, and the line of invaders shifted to face them as they approached. The invaders were as well equipped as Ulfrik's men, though they didn't display the same crisp discipline. Despite their numbers, Hardar felt less threatened than he had been by the control Ulfrik exerted over his warriors.

He leapt from his ship to meet an enemy for the second time that day. His ships landed down the rocky beach, out of enemy bow range. He shouted orders as his crews hauled their ships aground. As they formed up behind him, Hardar strode toward the invaders. "Dag, with me."

The leader was a giant wrapped in animal pelts. He detached from the dark line of warriors, who disappeared into the brilliance of the low sun. Only then did Hardar realize the crafty enemy had positioned him to fight into the glare. It made his stomach roil. He stopped halfway and set his feet wide and folded his arms. The enemy would come to him. He wasn't giving another inch.

The giant man lumbered forward with two other men. He halted a spear length away from Hardar. Muscle rippled beneath leathery, tanned skin. His hair and beard were shaggy and gray. He looked like he hadn't washed in a month.

"I want to talk to your leader, not a trained bear," Hardar said.

The giant man smiled with his few yellow teeth. A white scar danced on his cheek as he did. "I am Jarl Kjotve the Rich, King of Agder. You must be the famous Jarl Hardar Hammerhand."

"The bear speaks, too. That's also a famous name you use. Harald Finehair spilled Kjotve's guts and took his kingdom. So give me another name before I lose patience."

The smile fled the man's face and his dark, animal eyes flashed. "You think me a liar? Were you at Hafrsfjord, Hardar Hammerhand? Harald slew my son, enslaved my family, and stole my land. But he did not kill me. Now you know the truth. A man a hundred times more royal than you has paid your shit-pile village a visit, and you call him a liar. This is not what I expected from you."

Kjotve bore down on Hardar and scowled. Hardar felt like a mast was about to fall on him, and stepped back. Shame burned on his cheeks when he realized that he had given ground. "Then forgive me, Jarl Kjotve. News is rarer than trees in these lands. But you can hardly expect my hospitality, not with a hundred men and six ships laid out on my shore. Have you blown off course?"