Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) (16 page)

Amand cleared his throat, and Remi and the guard both straightened up. "Take as many men as you need. This will be a delicate matter for the Northmen. They will have to be given a trial to satisfy their sense of justice."

"I think--"

"I appreciate that a trial is not a strict necessity, Remi. But we have to massage our allies. They are good fighters, and I'd rather spend their lives fighting Hrolf than decent Franks. Remember we are not dealing with common criminals. Those names you collected are highly regarded by their fellows."

"Do you think the jarl's child, Halfdan, is in jeopardy?" Remi asked the question, and Amand guessed his captain was suggesting a change of plans for the boy.

"You said the spies were sharing information on troop strength, plans, and whatnot. It's possible they had thought to free the boy. I know what you are suggesting, and right now I needn't do more than ensure the hostage remains under my own guards in my fortress."

Amand paused and stared at the corpse dripping out its lifeblood onto the floor. "Grimnr will have to be rewarded for his loyalty or else this may go poorly. I will increase his pay and provide him some gold from my personal belongings. Those Northmen put great pride in a gold ring or armband."

"I will get the men together and arrest the traitors."

"Be careful to make it quiet. I don't want to incite the Northmen to violence. I'll give them a trial by tonight and all of them will be hanged by morning."

Remi bowed and turned to leave. The guard waited for Count Amand.

"I honestly would have thought Grimnr would be the traitor," he said to the guard.

"He's a hard man, but true to his word. I'll give him that much, Lord." The guard began to clean up his torture instruments with no more concern than a servant cleaning up after a feast.

"Good to know. I thought as much for Eskil. It will be a shame to hang him, but since he leads the traitors, he has left me no choice. His corpse will be on display tomorrow morning as a warning against treachery."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Runa and Aren ate alone in the hall. It was late morning, and Konal was still passed out in bed from a raucous night of drinking. The hall still had tables overturned and a bench smashed from the drunken brawl that had ensued with the patrol's return. The place smelled like smoke, ale, and urine, and even with the front doors thrown open, the breeze did nothing to relieve the stench.

All morning men woke up from their stupor and staggered out of the hall. Servants tried to repair what they could, but Runa had sent them away until later. Even Groa and her other women went elsewhere to complete their spinning for the day. Only she and Aren had any reason to be in this miserable hall, eating reheated mutton from the night before.

"Are you nervous?" Aren asked her without taking his eyes off his food.

"What do you think?"

"That you are expecting to die. What happened with Konal before you left?"

"He is your father, Aren. Use the proper respect when speaking of him."

She put her bowl down and faced him. One hand held his bowl up to his mouth, but the other was balled into a white-knuckled fist on the table. He slurped the final broth then set the wooden bowl down with care. His wide face was red with anger, and she turned aside. They continued to eat in silence, only the sounds of people about their chores outside the hall filling the space between them.

"I know how much you loved your stepfather. No one knows better than me." Runa paused to steady her voice. She found just mentioning his name under these circumstances brought tears to her eyes. "But in truth, Konal is your father, no matter how much we both wished otherwise. Disrespecting your own father only brings you shame."

Aren held his characteristic silence. It was a trait of his that caused her a pang of fear. She never knew what he was thinking when he closed off others. Unlike herself or Konal, he did not spill his anger openly, but kept it locked away. She wondered if one day all that he dammed inside his heart would burst out in a flurry of untamed violence. For all his cool exterior, she knew a seething fire burned under Aren's skin.

"You never answered my question," he said at last, the flush retreating from his face. He continued to swirl the residue in his bowl.

"I cannot tell you. Not now, at least."

"Well, I can understand that problem."

She bit her lip and stood to collect their bowls. Had Konal been awake he would have chastised her for not acting like a jarl's wife, but the chore gave her a sense of purpose, however feeble. Stacking their bowls, she carried them down from the high table to the bucket by the hearth. Aren had been back for three days now and refused to say what had happened at Eyrafell. Either Einar or Snorri had told him something that put him on edge, but she could not guess what it could be. She was grateful for something else to think about besides being caught returning the jewels and Konal's reaction. He still had to even act as if he knew what she had done, and maybe he did not. He and his men proceeded straight to a drunken feast.

The door to their room opened, and Konal stood in the doorway. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. He wore no shirt and his terrible red and white burn scars showed down to his chest and stomach. He smacked his lips and yawned.

"Gods, but I am thirsty. Water!"

The mention of water made Runa tense, and Aren stared at her with a raised brow. His keen, intelligent eyes seemed to read her thoughts, something he had been able to do since he was an infant. She instead focused on Konal, but he only staggered to the bench and sat with Aren. He threw his arm around him and hugged him close. It was Aren's moment to tense, and he nearly fell over under his father's clumsy pawing.

"Where's everyone?" he said, peering around as if looking into the sun.

"I sent them home. Others are still probably asleep under the tables."

Konal laughed, a thin and wispy sound that lacked any joy. She fetched him a jug of water and a mug, then went to the pot where the meat still simmered. As she ladled meat and broth into a bowl, the hall doors flung open and five men swept into the hall.

Runa spun toward them, the contents of the bowl spilling over onto her hand. She recognized three of the men as her own, but the other two wore blue cloaks over mail shirts. Their boots and pants were splattered with mud and their mail jingled as they strode confidently into the hall. She glanced back at Konal who stared vacantly at the men. When she turned back, the two strangers were facing her and she inhaled in surprise.

"We have come with urgent news for you from Eyrafell." The first man, tall with piercing green eyes and a long, fuzzy brown beard, addressed her with a slight bow. She looked back at Konal, who still remained in a fog staring at them.

"There is bad news," the messenger continued. "Snorri has taken ill and will soon be on to Valhalla."

Her hand rose to her mouth, and her stomach went cold. "How? Aren, you were just with him."

She heard Aren gasp and rise from his bench, but her eyes remained locked with the messenger. She did not know him, but she hardly spent time in Einar's hall to recognize any of his men. Something about him felt strange, however. His eyes seemed to flash another message at her.

"He was in good health only days ago," Aren said. He now joined Runa's side. "What happened?"

"He stumbled in the hall and struck his head," the messenger said. "He has been asking for Runa. He wants to see her before he dies."

"Then we shall go to him." Konal spoke up and all eyes turned to him. "He is an old friend."

"Jarl Einar has specified only Runa should come," the messenger said as he inclined his head to Konal. "He needs you here, for the Franks are hinting at a large scale action."

"Then how is it safe for my wife to travel?" Had Runa known better, she would have thought his question sincere from the care in his voice.

"We will escort her on horseback." The messenger indicated his partner. Konal snorted at this.

"Two of you? If I am not to come, then I insist I send my own guards."

"That's not necessary, Jarl Konal." Again the messenger glanced at Runa as he bowed. She felt as if he were warning her against the guards.

"Wouldn't that make us more obvious?" Runa asked. "Maybe it is better with only two."

"I insist." The finality of his words were like a hammer on metal.

"What about me?" Aren asked, rubbing his hands together.

The messenger appeared confused, looking at Runa with an expectant expression. She immediately grasped he did not know what to say.

"He should come as well," Runa said.

"He stays with me." Konal's whispering voice was stretched to its limits. He now stepped down from the high table, dragging his hand along it as he approached Aren. "He was just at Snorri's side, and if it is as they say, then travel is too dangerous for him. Do not contest me in this, Runa. I will not have it."

She knew better than to challenge him. If Snorri were on his deathbed and asking for her, then she owed it to him to be at his side. He was like a father to her, as well as Ulfrik, and this news was one more twist to her heart she could not stand. Thinking of losing him at the moment she would need him most nearly brought tears to her eyes, but she shook the hair from her face and addressed the messenger.

"We should leave as soon as you are fed and your horses rested." The two men bowed and gave their thanks to her. Konal guided her away with a firm grip, his hoarse voice a wintry whisper.

"Give him my best," he said, not without a hint of sincerity. "But this has not spared you from your deceit. I know you were at the well, too."

Her stomach flopped and she felt ready to faint. She blinked at him, finding no words. What could be said? He sneered and released her.

"I will select the men to accompany you," he said, pausing at the doors from the hall. "Travel safely."

She watched him go, then Aren touched her arm. She jolted at the surprise, and Aren fell back.

"I don't trust this," he said, smoothing his hair after the shock of Runa's reaction. "Einar's messenger has more to say to you than he revealed. What will you do?"

"I'll get the rest out of him on the journey. Don't worry for me, but take care of yourself. I think your father is using you to ensure I return."

Aren swallowed and nodded slowly. "I know he is. I'm a hostage to my own father."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Runa and the messenger, who had given his name as Hrut Grisson, rode in a cart along the track to Eyrafell. The road was nothing more than ruts worn into the plains of grass from the frequent travel between the two fortresses. While they had thought to bring a horse for her, none had considered she did not know how to ride one. About three tries to get her on the beast convinced Konal to lend the cart. They had already been on the track for a day, and her back ached from the constant rattle and the poor sleep she had in the bed of the cart. Now fat rain clouds rolled over the horizon of dark trees and a strong breeze gusted across the grass. No birds dared fly in the wind, and so she had nothing to listen to beyond the wobbling and creaking of the cart's axle.

"My husband's guards are behind us now," she whispered to Hrut. "I think there is more for you to tell me?"

He shrugged, but checked over his shoulder. "We'll be at Eyrafell soon enough. What I have to say is best told there."

She folded her arms, but the cart hit a rock and the jolt nearly sent her to the ground. "Do you have to hit every obstacle?"

"Sorry, I don't often drive carts. It's a farmer's work."

Runa brooded in silence, staring into the glare of the eastern sun and hoping to see Eyrafell rise above the horizon. Hrut's secret ate at her heart like a rat gnaws at sacks of grain.

"I can't wait. Tell me now." He shook his head. "Is it the presence of my husband's men?"

He nodded. "They'll have to go once we're at Eyrafell. They seem like good men, too bad."

"Too bad?"

"You'll see soon enough."

The rest of the trip was an endless procession of jolts and bumps and Hrut's maddening silence. Once Eyrafell came into view, Runa's heart nearly leapt from her chest. The gates hung open to welcome them. The men greeted Hrut and his companion, but frowned at the three other men Konal had assigned to be Runa's minders.

"We are here now," she said to Hrut. "Can you share your message?"

"Snorri's not dying," he said. "But he and Einar desired a private meeting with you." He flashed his eyes at her three guards and realized now why Hrut regretted having them along.

"That was a terrible lie," she hissed at him. "Snorri is family."

He shrugged. "Wasn't my lie. What do we do with your guards?"

Runa stared at the three of them dismounting their horses and handing them over to stable hands. She bit her lip and considered. "Easy enough to slip them. I am not here as their prisoner, so they cannot follow me everywhere."