Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) (12 page)

Pulling himself away was like tearing flesh from frozen iron, but he tucked his head down and immediately began walking in the opposite direction. His heart thudded and blood roared in his ears. Yet a simple word from Snorri arrested him.

"Lad?"

The voice had been clawed with age and pain, but it was Snorri's and it struck to Ulfrik's heart as sure as any arrow. His foot came down, but his other refused to move. Don't do this, he told himself. You've got to get away.

"It can't be true." Aren's voice had changed, now a young man's, but it was no less arresting. It was the voice of his son.

Aren grabbed his shoulder and tugged him around. "Who are you?"

Ulfrik did not resist, but let himself be spun around to face Aren. His raptor gaze searched him from head to foot as Snorri stumbled the short distance toward them.

"I know that face," Snorri said as he hobbled up to Ulfrik. "Why are you hiding it?"

"Take off this hood," Aren said, then pushed it back from Ulfrik's head. He peered at him with keen interest and nodded. "Speak."

"Are you so convinced of what you see?" Ulfrik asked them, his eyes not wavering from Aren's. In reply, Snorri collapsed forward and both he and Aren had to catch him before he fell.

"Lad, you are alive or I am dead. Which is it? I know who owns that voice, and I knew his father as well. Tell an old man he has not lost himself to ancient memories."

Tears stood in Snorri's eyes, and Ulfrik blinked back his own. "I did not mean for us to meet again, at least not like this. But as fate has reunited us, then I will hide no more. I am Ulfrik."

Snorri stared at him with shimmering eyes, mouth open but wordless. Aren steadied Snorri, then gave Ulfrik a skeptical look. "I do not want to believe it's you, but I've not forgotten your voice nor your bearing. Are you really my father?"

"I was your father once. I raised you from birth as my own. There is a scar on your left foot from when a servant girl dropped a knife on it. You were only a child then, but I'm sure you remember the pain. You cried for days after and refused to walk."

Aren hesitated then embraced Ulfrik, pinning his arms to his sides. The emotion behind that embrace surprised him, as Aren had always been a cool child, so unlike the hot blood of either his mother or true father, Konal.

"I knew that head Einar returned with was not yours." Snorri now gripped Ulfrik's arms and his squeeze was feeble. "But he insisted you died, said Throst took him to find your body at the foot of the tower. What happened to you? Why has your hair turned so gray for one still young?"

Ulfrik laughed. "Would that I felt young, old friend. I survived the fall that Einar witnessed, but he was not shown my body until the next day. During that time, strange people found me and exchanged my body with a murdered slave's. They carried me off to Iceland, and it has taken me all these years to fight my way back home."

Both Snorri and Aren stared at him in awe and confusion. Aren's brow wrinkled and he cocked his head to the side. "There is much that makes no sense in that tale."

"Explaining it would make even less sense," Ulfrik said. "They were madmen and the tortures I endured under them aged me beyond my years."

"Whatever happened, I am glad to have you back," Snorri said. "No matter what my heart told me, the truth was you've been dead these long years. Now I want to know all that I missed of your life."

Ulfrik shook his head. "There is no time, my old friend. I am not here to stay, but only to glimpse my family a final time before I leave."

Both Aren and Snorri stood back, blinking. Aren put his hand on his chest. "A final time? You can't leave. We need you. Mother needs you."

"She has Konal now, and my return would only complicate matters. It is best I remain dead to everyone, and let life here continue without the worry or shame of my presence. Look upon me, and you see all I possess. I can offer you nothing but more suffering. Let Runa and Konal live their days in peace."

"Konal is a beast," Aren said. "I've often thought of killing him myself."

"Aye, lad, he's not who you remember, nor is Runa. Both have been poison to each other and your memory is like a sword that cuts them both."

Now it was Ulfrik blinking in surprise. "Aren, Konal is your blood father. You can't mean what you say."

"I mean it," Aren said, exchanging a glance with Snorri. "And Snorri knows it is true. He beats my mother and spends his days drunk and angry. He is a disgrace to us, unable to do more than hide behind Einar and steal what glory he can."

"It's true, lad," Snorri said in a low voice. "Within a year after your death, he married Runa and fell into drinking and whoring. I don't begrudge a man these pursuits. I did enough in my youth. But it is all he does, and he does not lead well. Out of bonds of old friendship, Einar has carried him, but now even those are sorely tested. The way he treats Runa, it's as if he never loved her but married her to spite your memory. It's a strange thing, for I know he was once sincere, but something twisted him."

"Gunnar left to find you," Aren said. "Mother says he died in the search, but I think he gave up and refused to return and witness what Konal has become. The signs were on him even when Gunnar left. His tears at your funeral were strange. They fell true, but I don't believe from grief at your death."

Ulfrik stood in shock, unable to make sense of the hate flooding from both of them. He looked between them, their faces set in scowls of disgust.

"He beats her? Runa would never stand for it. Never. She would kill him first."

"Lad, your death went hard with her. The fire in her heart died, and fear replaced it. Gunnar's departure was the ax-blow that cut her down. She thinks only Konal can offer her a future, however black it might be. Without him, she has no family and no wealth. Einar would take her in, but a feud with Konal would invite Hrolf to intervene. She does not want to bring that trouble to him. Honestly, the Franks are worse than ever, and Einar has no desire to seek more problems. So he turns his eye from it."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ulfrik struggled to make sense of it all. What could have changed Konal into an animal? He had often spoken of his father as being mad. Perhaps such a madness now gripped him, a curse passed from father to son. It was all that made sense.

"So you can't leave," Aren said. "See Einar then arrange to meet Mother. Hakon is here, too. We will find a way to be a family again."

"Yes, I have to see this for myself. Runa cannot go on like this. And you two," Ulfrik pointed at both Snorri and Aren. "When did you become so close, strolling arm in arm like this? I remember neither of you caring much for the other."

"Time changes everything, lad." Snorri patted Aren's shoulder. "He's the smartest boy I've ever met, at least twice as clever as you were at this age. And people hate him for it. His own father can't stand a son smarter than himself. It's what scared me when he was young. Now I just know he's got a good head and there's nothing evil about it."

"I like to hear Snorri's stories," Aren said. "So we spend time together."

They stood facing each other at a sudden loss for words. Ulfrik looked around, the pathway clear of all but a boy and dog trotting along on their business. "I've got my duties to Hrolf, but when they are done, I will return."

"What has he got you mixed up with?" Snorri asked.

"Let's at least get out of the road while I tell you what I can."

They moved into the shade of a building, where Snorri settled on a stump and Ulfrik sat on an overturned bucket and Aren leaned against the wall. He told them of his revenge upon Throst, his misfortunes with Finn, and the problems with Hrolf's son.

"So now you know all of what I do. Once I free Vilhjalmer, I have asked for lands and men. I thought I should forfeit that to leave you all in peace. Now I see I must pursue it. But both of you swear to me now that you shall not breathe a word to anyone of my arrival and of what I've told you. No one means Runa, Einar, and the dog in the corner of the hall. No. One. Swear it."

Both raised their hands and promised Ulfrik.

"I will return soon, and your lives will be better for it. This is what I swear to you. My family will not be made to live in fear and shame. I will not stand for it."

Both Aren and Snorri smiled. They embraced a final time, and Ulfrik left them, resolved to set straight Konal and reclaim his wife.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Konal had kissed Runa farewell at the gates and left with thirty men, half of his standing force. They started out at dawn beneath puffy, pink clouds that rolled overhead like seals at play in the surf. Runa watched from the walls, waving dutifully with a stiff smile creasing her face. The wind caught her curly hair and blew it over her shoulders.

"Did you find out what I asked about last night?" she asked through her fake smile. Groa, who stood next her, holding her head cover tight against the breeze, simply nodded in affirmation. Runa's smile softened with a touch of the genuine. "Then we shall have much to discuss while spinning this afternoon."

Runa and Groa were assisted down the ladder by leather-clad hirdmen. The ones left behind were Konal's most responsible men. Those Konal took with him were his fiercest drinking companions, and while out on patrol they would no doubt protect the surrounding lands from excess ale or beer. She wished for once they would collide with a real enemy and settle all her issues. Fate was not so kind, and Konal was too canny to bring himself into any true danger.

Back at the hall, women had gathered baskets of wool, and two girls were already with their distaffs spinning the wool into threads. She waved them away. "Groa and I will take the easy work of spinning. You two are young enough for the looms."

She and Groa set their distaffs on their hips and began spinning wool. The two girls did not have enough thread with them and had to fetch more. When they left, Runa waited a moment before turning to Groa. "Did you see it yourself?"

"Yes," Groa's voice came in a whisper. "Whatever it was, he stuck it in the well. There's a loose stone in there. He was leaned into it so far that I could've dumped him in it had I mind to."

"Murder has no part in my plans." Runa watched the wool pull tight as she lowered the weight stones, then studied the threads spinning together into tight strings. Her own heart felt as tight and twisted. "He is not a bad man, just lost. I want no more part of him."

Groa sniffed. "He beats you like a dog on some days, then treats you like a Queen of the Franks. A dip in the well might be a good way to find himself."

"You're a loyal woman," she said. "You and I will be gone from all of this by tonight."

"What's he hiding in there? Treasure, I suppose."

Runa nodded, signaling with her eyes that hirdmen had wandered into the hall. Two of them sat on the far benches, setting aside their spears and falling into conversation. Their presence ended discussion of the evening's plans. After the girls returned and set the looms, the rest of the afternoon passed like any other. Once the evening meal had been finished and dishes were being cleared, Runa raised her brows at Groa who acknowledged by catching the attention of the other servants.

"See here," she shouted. "This whole table is stained. Who is supposed to be cleaning this?"

With attention distracted, Runa picked up a bucket and left. She wended her way down the tracks to the well. Men spared her nothing more than a glance, for she was only drawing water for the night's cleaning. After she lowered the bucket, she ducked her head inside. A mossy, damp scent filled her nose and each drip sounded like a roar with her head in the well. Immediately she discovered the flaw in her plans.

There was no light. Leaning into the well, everything melted into a thick brown smear and every rock disappeared. She fumbled with her hands, finding nothing, then had to back up to catch her breath. Evening light skimmed over the rooftops, nothing slanting down to illuminate the shadows. You foolish girl, she though. Should've come in the light to see what you're doing.

Not wanting to appear any more suspicious, she drew up the bucket of water and set it aside. It occurred that Konal placed this in the dark and would have had only torchlight. Therefore, the stone must be identified by touch. She leaned back in and felt around, coming back up empty. She tried twice more before a stone came free. It squeezed out of her hand and fell into the water with a splash. Hissing with fear, she reached inside to grasp the pouch. In one smooth move she withdrew from the well and stuck the pouch into her skirts. She then picked up her bucket and hurried back to the hall.

She and Groa waited until only three hirdmen remained, two of which were deep in conversation. Without having to speak, both of them knew the next steps in their plan. They transported their few belongings in baskets covered with the cloth woven during the day. Outside the hall they set aside the basket and pulled out travel packs. The sun had set, but they had no worries of travel in darkness.

"The cart is ready?" Runa asked once they were away from the hall.

"And Soren is ready to drive us. I've already arranged as you asked. Once we're through the gates, then we are as good as gone."