Islands in the Fog (32 page)

"I came here directly, in hopes Runa and Toki had come to you first. But I see they must have traveled elsewhere." Ulfrik felt a burn in his stomach as he spoke, doubting their situation was so prosaic. Ingrid's gaze turned cold, for she had been expecting a reunion as much as he had. "I'm sure I will catch up with them. You've heard no news at all?"

"None, but we stay close to home now. Men don't dare travel when war is near. So we hear little news; it is possible they could've went even further north. Though they would find less sympathy there."

"So you've heard nothing of Hardar, I assume?"

Ragnvald spread his hands wide and smiled. "I know more about that. Ill news always finds an audience. He has taken your home for his own. Not long after his mercenaries left, more men came to him from the north. Cousins who are rebuilding his hall. He even sent ships out that have but recently returned with more men."

Ingrid gave Ulfrik a sharp look. It was as she had said it would be. The loss of family and home seemed to have not slowed his ambition. "He has no shame."

"I have often wondered what held him back," Ragnvald said.

"He must be bought to account. His attacks on me are only the start. He is sending for more men. What purpose can he have in that? Which one of the jarls are next, you Ragnvald?" Ulfrik's eyes flashed with anger. Ragnvald's hand reflexively covered his chest.

"I know he has been unkind to your people, Ulfrik. Many have been put to death."

"He broke his oath to treat my people as his own!" Ulfrik slammed the table, his voice a snarl. "You must join me in putting him down. We must wipe his threat from the land."

Ragnvald shrank in his seat. He did not roar back agreement as Ulfrik expected. Instead, his eyes faltered and he looked aside.

"What is this? You do not agree, or is there something worse yet to reveal?" Ulfrik glanced about the table; every face seemed as confused as he felt.

"Hardar's attack on you was wrong. But he has not threatened anyone else."

Ulfrik sputtered his laughter. "Of course he hasn't. Once he is certain of victory he will sweep out and attack. He's hiring foreign swords. What else do you need to see?"

"I see you have done the same." Ragnvald suddenly no longer seemed small. He sat up, crossing his arms. "You bring the warriors of a foreign king, who is allied to Harald Finehair even. When you finish Hardar, who will rule those lands? You? And what have you traded for your new allies if not an oath of loyalty?"

Gunther chuckled deep in his throat. He leaned over to Ulfrik. "You promised the men of these lands had fight in them. I can tell you this one does not. Let's be gone and see Hardar's army for ourselves. My warriors would equal ten of his, and are hungry for battle."

Both Ulfrik and Ragnvald open their mouths to speak. But Ingrid spoke sooner.

"Calm yourselves. We are here as guests, and Jarl Ragnvald has been kind. Let not our doubts strain the bonds of friendship, which have been long and true."

"Lady Ingrid is right," Ulfrik said, his head lowered. "I have been a poor guest."

Ragnvald waved his hand dismissively. "Times have been difficult. It makes a man wary of everything, even his friends."

"But your question is fair," Ingrid continued. All turned toward her, and she smiled delicately at the attention. She pushed a lock of hair over her ear as she spoke. "Lord Ulfrik and I have an agreement. My husband has proved faithless. He did not even attempt to rescue me, but rather looked to himself first. I am finished with him. Lord Ulfrik proposes to destroy Hardar. Those lands are mine by birthright, and I will rule them. Lord Ulfrik and I will be allies, not enemies. No foreign power will rule here."

The room fell silent as Ragnvald searched Ingrid's face. "And Ulfrik is still sworn to Hrolf the Strider. But still, Hardar is the immediate threat." He softly shook his head. "I need to consider all of this."

"Jarl Ragnvald," Ulfrik spoke carefully. "If you cannot commit to battle, I understand. It is not your fight. But will you at least support us? I have not done all that I should have to befriend the jarls of these islands. You are the closest to me. Allow us to shelter on your land while we plan."

He sighed heavily, puffing out his cheeks. "You are welcome on my lands, but do not drag the battle here. Do not entangle me before I am decided."

"You have my word."

The tension dissipated, and Ragnvald's expression brightened. "Then tonight we shall celebrate your safe return. On the morrow, you will no doubt go to seek your family."

Their agreement made, talk shifted to trite conversation. Eventually Ragnvald excused himself to make preparations, leaving Ulfrik with Ingrid and the others.

"That did not go as well as I had expected," Ulfrik admitted, after checking no others listened.

"My daughter had better be safe," Ingrid hissed. "I thought Toki was to protect her, Lord Ulfrik."

He stared at Ingrid, rubbing his arms. "I thought so as well, Lady Ingrid. I know Ragnvald is honest, and they never came this way. It could be they decided on another plan. But we cannot seek them now, at least not too widely. Our strike on Hardar must be a surprise."

"I don't trust Ragnvald," Gunther interrupted. "He's wormy, can't make a decision. An enemy is half a day's sailing distance and he won't move. You don't need that kind of ally, Ulfrik."

The words felt right, though Ulfrik did not want to accept them. He looked to Snorri, who had remained pensive throughout the afternoon. The disappointment of not finding his family had weighed on him as well, Ulfrik guessed. "What do you say, old friend?"

He shrugged. "Hardar must die. It must happen first and happen fast. If we can't persuade Ragnvald, then we haven't much chance with others."

Ulfrik put his hands to his temples, nodding agreement. He closed his eyes and silently asked the gods to show him the way to victory. But for the moment, he stood alone on a path shrouded in fog.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Fog rolled across Nye Grenner, wiping color from the land. The turf roofs of the huddled buildings floated within it. Summer was ending and the air remained cool long after sunrise. Shadows of people moved within the fog as they began their daily routines. Yellow light still shined from the central hall, a wide square of it pushing through the fog as someone emerged.

Hardar stood with arms folded across his chest. He stood at the top of the grassy slope where months ago he had led a desperate charge. From this vantage he understood how cleverly Ulfrik had laid out his dwellings. The placement of buildings, rock formations, even the grade of the slope all worked to channel attackers one way. The defenders only had to stand in the correct spot and dominate the approach with bow fire and spears. Hardar supposed the gods had loved him that day, for he should have died in the trap.

He heard the grass swishing, but remained studying the slope as he felt the presence stop behind him.

"Are you refreshed, Skard?" Hardar's voice shook with irritation.

"Much better now that I've eaten. I departed as soon as the messenger arrived. Didn't even stop to eat."

"Yet you stopped to eat from my table." Hardar turned and faced his cousin. Skard was older than him, but his beard was still black and hair full and spotted with crumbs of his last meal. "Now let's get to our discussion. Thorod is ready?"

Skard nodded and both men returned to the hall. Nye Grenner's hall had seemed much grander to Hardar before he took it over. Now it seemed like a child's attempt to imitate a man's hall. Even this high table did not rise suitably above the others. Yet Hardar had endured it, as his own hall was nothing more than a black skeleton buried in ash. One of the local girls, thin and sleepy-eyed, fed the hearth fire dried twigs of heather. She smiled at Hardar as he entered. He could not remember her name, only having recently taken her to his bed. Ignoring her, he found Thorod guzzling from a mug and seated at the high table.

Plodding through the hall, he dropped himself onto the bench at the high table. His cousins, Skard and Thorod, stared at him with expectant expressions.

"Ulfrik has returned." Hardar spoke as if describing the weather. Both cousins drew a sharp breath, but he did not look at them. He stared at the young girl keeping the fire alive.

"That's not possible," Thorod said. "A hundred men led him away as a slave. How do you return from that?" He laughed, a thin and nervous laugh that caught on with no one.

"But he did. Word came that strange ships entered these waters, headed for Ragnvald's lands. I sent a spy and he returned last night with confirmation." Hardar watched as the girl finished dropping twigs into the fire. She closed the box of dried branches, then began to collect the remains of the last meal off the tables. She was a good girl, he thought. Maybe one to keep this time.

"You are certain of this? How long has he been here?" asked Skard.

"Nearly a week. He travels with foreigners who are camped on Ragnvald's land. About ninety men or more, all in good war gear." He finally regarded his cousins. They appeared to shrink underneath his gaze like frightened children. "They form Ulfrik's war band."

They all sat in long silence. Hardar returned to staring at the girl. She was maybe as old as his daughter, even resembled her. He had not thought much about Halla or Ingrid since they had left him. He was glad to be rid of Halla. Having whored herself on common scum, she was worthless. Ingrid, though beautiful, had outlived her purpose. He owned her property and men had forgotten her father. Each year made her more shrill and defiant. Kjotve had done him a good turn when he carried her off.

Hardar leapt in shock at a touch to his elbow. Skard and Thorod recoiled. His heart thumped as if he had run up a mountainside. He resisted an urge to strike one of them.

"You were not listening," explained wide-eyed Thorod. "We have to act quickly."

"Which is why I dragged the two of you here. Forget rebuilding my old hall for now." Hardar stood and found the girl he had been watching was now staring at him. He shooed her with a flip of his hand. "Get out of here, woman. This is talk for men."

He paced with his hands locked behind him as he waited for the girl to exit. Then he resumed with his cousins. "Your men will fight?"

Skard and Thorod looked at each other. Skard answered for both. "If they are paid well, they will fight."

Hardar's fist slammed into Skard's cheek. The thick crack echoed in the vacant hall as he crumpled to the floor. Hardar seized him by his shirt and hauled him up to his face. His spittle dappled Skard as he screamed. "They will fucking fight or die! This isn't about thieving my last piece of gold, you scum! This is about destroying Ulfrik. If I don't pay, then what will they do? Sail off? Ulfrik will hunt them, you fool, and then they die!"

He shoved Skard back to the floor. Thorod had leapt clear and reached for the hilt of a dagger. Hardar bellowed at him. "Fight me, and I'll show you why I'm the greatest jarl in all these lands. You won't be alive to know, but you'll teach your brother. Now sit down, both of you, and let me hear no more about payment. This is about duty."

Skard's reddened cheek had already begun to swell. He scowled at Hardar, but sat as directed. Thorod's hand melted from his dagger, and he also sat. Skard spit on the floor. "They will fight, but they will expect something for risking their lives. This is not their home. It's all I wanted to say."

Hardar grunted and continued to pace. "How many men do you have in total, about forty?"

Thorod shook his head. "Forty including whoever remained from your men. I bought you back twenty more men from the Hebrides."

"Sixty men is not enough!" Hardar yelled, punching the air. "At least twenty more must come, and I'd want twenty again to be sure. Where can I raise forty more men?"

Skard and Thorod stared at him. He stared back. In one summer of fighting he had reduced his army to a paltry forty men. Kjotve had stolen most of his wealth and Ulfrik had hidden his own treasures. He could scarcely afford the men he had already employed.

"We need allies," Hardar said. "The two of you will go north and promise thirty pounds of silver to any jarl who will come to my aid."

"You have that much?" Skard frowned, still holding his bruised cheek.

"I will have that much by the time you return. Each of you take a ship, bring men, and I will give you silver to pay the jarls a portion in advance. You will leave immediately. Ulfrik is not going to launch his attack any day soon."

Thorod and Skard sat with their brows furrowed and mouths agape. Hardar saw the disbelief in their eyes. He was lying, of course, but not entirely. He swallowed the angry curses he felt rising in his throat, and smiled.

"I will give you silver, as well. For your service to me. This I will give you today."

"So you've kept a secret from us?" Thorod said with a sly grin. "There's more in the stores than you want us to believe."

The stores had nothing more, but Hardar smiled sheepishly. "Every man keeps something for himself. But now I cannot afford to withhold it. As for the rest of the promised silver, more is hidden on this land than Ulfrik took with him. There are still those loyal to him who should know where it is."

Thorod and Skard smiled, though Skard's vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "You don't know that. You're just guessing. If we go out and promise silver you cannot pay, you will be making new enemies."

"Be ready to sail as soon as the fog lifts. I will have your silver ready, and you will do as I've asked."

Thorod and Skard eventually rose from the table and left the hall. Hardar searched around, as if he had overlooked a secret hiding spot where mounds of silver and gold lay. He licked his lips. Prevailing against Ulfrik was his highest priority. The other jarls would hopefully die in battle, or could be helped to that fate once victory was assured.

He exited the hall, stepping into the milky light of the morning. He set out for the barracks where the mercenaries passed their days drinking and playing dice, waiting for the promised raids to begin. They would not hesitate in breaking bones or cutting off noses from the local people. One of Ulfrik's circle still lived here, Thorvald the blacksmith. He planned to start with him. He hoped the smith would still have the use of his hands once he confessed the location of the hidden treasure.