Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) (27 page)

Outside the guard at her door gave a slight smile and inclined his head. She walked a short distance and turned her face toward the sun.

How many more traps were hidden along Ulfrik's path home? She put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Ulfrik rested on hands and knees in the dirt, the wind knocked from his lungs. Mail protected from slashes and glancing blows, but not against the solid thump to his gut. He considered grabbing Vilhjalmer and running, but after breaking his leg in the fall from Throst's tower, he would never outrun a young man. A fight would end in his death. A quick plan of taking Vilhjalmer hostage faded when guards dragged him aside and out of his view. With so many surrounding him, he would fail in that gambit as well. One marksman with a bow would put an arrow through his neck before he could get Vilhjalmer clear. In the end, he allowed himself to be hauled up and held at spear point.

The Frank girl continued to struggle with her captors, but Vilhjalmer remained cool and still between his two guards. Ulfrik gave him a weak smile, proud at the grace the boy exhibited for one so young.

"What is this?" The voice spoke in Frankish and came from behind. Looking over his shoulder Ulfrik saw a detail of six Frankish guards from Amand's fortress. They were dressed in white and blue surcoats and carried shields of the same color. Only the leader was dressed for battle, wearing a chain shirt and conical helmet of the Frankish style.

"Caught these three running from the fortress," said the Northman holding Ulfrik. "Looks like they were helping the hostage escape."

"Dear God!" The lead Frank stalked to Vilhjalmer and grabbed him away from the others. "How did this happen?"

Ulfrik inhaled to give his story, but Vilhjalmer interrupted in perfect Frankish. "The two dead men and the girl freed me from the tower. The girl led them to me, and they wanted to ransom me back to my father, Mord Guntherson." He pointed at Ulfrik. "This man caught us and killed both of them."

"Is that true?" the Frank leader asked. The girl shook her head violently and pointed at Ulfrik, but her guard shook her to silence.

The Northman holding Ulfrik loosened his grip. "The two men were already dead when I got here. Actually, this one didn't try to run when we caught him."

"I called for help once," Ulfrik added. "But no one answered. There was no time to waste, so I killed both of them."

The Frank leader threw up his hands. "All right, you're all coming back with us. The count will straighten this out."

Vilhjalmer shot Ulfrik a smug look, but he turned away not wanting to give his captors any hint of cooperation. In fact, Ulfrik's chest beat with pride for the boy's quick thinking. Such a young intelligence was rare, and he had only known his son Aren to be so smart. Yet whereas Aren was retiring with his intelligence, Vilhjalmer was snake-swift in putting it to use. He would be a mighty jarl one day and a fine inheritor of Hrolf's legacy.

Ulfrik was treated with a mixture of suspicion and gratitude. They confined him to a room, but provided a basin to wash blood and mud out of his face and bought him fresh clothes. They took his mail and weapons, but promised to return them upon leaving the fortress. The bed was comfortable and he dozed until he was summoned again. A bar lifted from his door, which he had not realized had been barred. Two guards gestured for him to follow, but waited for him to splash water on his face and roughly comb his hair.

They escorted him into the main building and Ulfrik noted every door and hall he passed. He arrived at the second floor where the wooden floorboards creaked under foot as they walked him into a large room with two high windows for light. Count Amand sat on a large, ornate chair, his golden cross glinting in the moonlight. He stroked his long, white mustache as he waited. Beside him stood Grimnr, dressed in plain brown pants and a green shirt which emphasized his waist-length yellow braid. He gave him a smile halfway between a wolfish snarl and a friendly greeting. A priest whispered to Amand, and seven men-at-arms ranked up behind him.

Ulfrik looked around as they led him forward, noting the high chandelier of unlit candles hanging over him on a chain. He wondered if Amand dropped it on people who displeased him. The guard nudged him and raised his brows expectantly. Ulfrik did not understand, and the Frank rolled his eyes. "Kneel to your lord."

"Of course, how forgetful." Ulfrik stepped toward Grimnr and went to his knee. "Jarl Grimnr, I am honored you should attend on my behalf."

Grimnr barked a laugh, but the Frank guard plucked his shoulder. "The count, you fool!"

"Never mind the formalities," Count Amand said, shooing Ulfrik and his guards back. "More important matters are at hand."

Ulfrik stepped away, suppressing a smile he shared with Grimnr. He schooled his expression and turned to the count, who continued to stroke his mustache while studying Ulfrik. At last he licked his lips then spoke.

"I have already spoken with the hostage, Halfdan Mordason, for his retelling of the story. I want to hear your account now. Tell me what happened."

"The two men had Vilhjalmer between them and the girl trotting along with them. Truth be told, I was going to the side gate to meet that girl." Ulfrik bowed his head with mock shame, then looked toward Grimnr. "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, really. I know I shouldn't have left my post at the hall last night, but I had arranged to meet her at the gate for a bit of fun."

"I don't need the details," Count Amand said, holding up a hand to stop him. "You had abandoned your post for reasons we all understand. Now what did you see when the girl and her accomplices appeared. Who was leading?"

Ulfrik recognized the trap the count had set. He paused as if trying to recall, but was actually trying to guess Vilhjalmer's answers to the questions. The safest tactic would be to stick as close to the facts as possible. He hoped an eight-year-old boy was smart enough to think of that, and Ulfrik gambled his ruse on it. "The girl was leading them. I saw her first."

Grimnr glanced at Amand, who nodded and stopped stroking his mustache. He leaned forward. "How did the fight go after that? What was said?"

"I told them to halt, and once I recognized they had the hostage, I ordered them to release Halfdan. I recognized both of them, as I had once been part of Gunnvald's crew. When he scoffed at me I called for help and drew my sword."

Ulfrik then told the rest of the battle as it has happened, for the details would not be different from anything Vilhjalmer had provided. When he ended his narrative, he spread his hands wide and bowed to Amand. "And that is the whole truth of it. It seems Fate put me in the way of two men who I hated most in this camp, and provided me a good reason to spill their guts."

"Yes, well, that's a vivid account of the fight. Grimnr, you've heard both the woman and the boy's accounts. What do you say?"

"I heard very little from the whore other than a lot of moaning and hand gestures. I'm sure she's accustomed to that." Grimnr laughed and Ulfrik smiled, but the count frowned and slapped the arm of his chair. Grimnr's smile vanished. "I stand by Ulfar's account. He was on guard duty, which explains why he was armed and armored. I've seen him flirting with the whore before, and I believe when he says he was looking for a roll in the barn with her. And Gunnvald and his crew were scum that have made trouble before. There is nothing more for me to say in Ulfar's defense."

The count nodded and began to stroke his mustache once more. Grimnr slipped Ulfrik a wolfish grin. While Fate had spoiled his plans for escape, the gods had favored Ulfrik enough to cover his treachery.

"I would like to speak to Gunnvald's crew," Count Amand said. "You rounded them up, Grimnr?"

"They were gone by the time we looked for them. Yet another reason to believe Ulfar's innocence."

With a nod, Amand fell into thoughtful silence. At length he leaned into his priest and the two conferred in whispers. Ulfrik strained to listen while appearing unconcerned, but their words escaped him. Amand finally patted his priest's arm, then made a sign of the cross and lifted the gold crucifix to his lips and kissed it.

"I believe Ulfar's story and recognize that he has done me a service. The servant will be hanged for her treachery. Ulfar, you will be awarded two pounds of silver for your aid in preventing the escape of my hostage. However, there is something about the number of incidents involving you since your arrival in my camp. Until plans with Mord are concluded, you will remain in the quarters I have provided you."

"What?" Ulfrik stepped forward, only to have both guards grab his arms.

"This is no way to treat a man who has done you a service," Grimnr said, his face turning red. "This is an insult."

Amand held up a hand. "Wherever this man goes violence seems to follow, which is not uncommon for your kind. But for Ulfar the violence is always near my person. Also, he has spent more time getting to know my fortress than any of your men. Tell me, Grimnr, how many others of your men have helped unload goods at my fortress and discovered the easy virtue of some of my servants? All in such a short space of time. Also, I believe it was his idea to attend the meeting with Mord, where he also happened to be the spark of violence. That is too much coincidence for my taste."

"That is chance, my lord," Ulfrik said. He did not wrestle with his guards, hoping manners would prevail. Yet he saw the count's eyes harden and he gripped both of his chair arms as he rose.

Amand narrowed his eyes. "I thought you people didn't believe in chance? You will be rewarded and treated with respect. After Mord has given us victory, you will be released with your silver. Be glad you will not have to risk your life in the fighting to enjoy the benefits. I'm certain Grimnr will pay you no less than your wages, all for sitting in the warm comfort of my home."

"It's imprisonment without an end date," Ulfrik said.

"God has granted me eyes to see, and wisdom to suspect. I've been fair to you, Ulfar. When I was younger and less tired of death, I'd have saved myself a boring morning of sitting on this chair and hanged you with the whore. Now you may go with Grimnr to collect your belongings, and he will send you back straightaway. There is no more room for debate."

Amand hobbled off his chair and nodded to both Grimnr and Ulfrik as he left. Ulfrik stared at the empty chair, wondering how he would get to Vilhjalmer from behind his barred door. It seemed the gods had saved their laughter for this very moment. He bowed his head as the two guard led him out.

CHAPTER FORTY

The early morning light was cold and weak behind rolls of gray clouds. Outside the walls of Amand's fortress, men were piling out of their tents or barracks to greet the new day. Others were retiring from a night of guard duty, stretching and yawning as they shambled to their quarters. Ulfrik and Grimnr stomped through the maze of tents in stony silence. In the distance a flock of black crows shot screaming into the sky, catching Ulfrik's attention.

"This is an insult," Grimnr said, punching his palm. "You prevent our prized hostage from escape, and he rewards you with a prison cell."

"The room is comfortable and clean," Ulfrik said. "At least I won't be cold and wet."

"Don't be so sure of it. His captain, Remi, will probably see you to your new quarters, and he hates our people," Grimnr said. Two men stepped into his path and he shoved them back with his arm. They protested but Grimnr snarled and they faded back between the tents.

Continuing to charge through the camp, Grimnr muttered to himself, but Ulfrik kept watch on the horizon. The distant crows continued to scream but did not disperse, circling overhead.

The sentence Amand had passed on him made his task both easier and more difficult. Being barred into a room frustrated his plans for quick action. However, since he was not a true prisoner, he had a chance to cultivate a relationship with his guard and exploit it to free himself. After that, he would be inside the fortress and closer to Vilhjalmer than he otherwise would be. He ground his teeth at the thought of further delays, but Vilhjalmer's quick thinking had spared him a far worse outcome.

"Grimnr, this is shameful to me as well. Please don't tell the others what has become of me." Ulfrik did not want others considering Amand's accusations too closely. With enough minds thinking on his actions, it would not be long before someone determined his true purpose.

"Of course not," Grimnr said. "I'll tell them you've been rewarded with a special duty from the count. I'll find a way to get you out of that cell before the attack. No one should miss a chance at glory as big as one we're setting up."

"That means a lot to me," Ulfrik said, not insincere. Grimnr was a strong leader with a fierce pride, and Ulfrik had enjoyed his short time under his command. He regretted the betrayal he had in store for Grimnr. Once he wondered if Grimnr could be persuaded to his side, but one night of conversation with the man disabused him of the idea. Grimnr's word was gold, and he had given his to Amand.