Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) (45 page)

Ulfrik nodded, then held out his left hand. "Well, I lost a finger."

"I noticed. That must have hit you hard. It was your favorite one to stick up your nose."

They laughed together and Ulfrik's heart was feather-light for the rest of the journey to Hrolf's hall. By late afternoon they arrived to a throng of guards waiting for them at the shore. Once in safe waters, Gunnar let the current and wind carry them the rest of the journey. Fishermen they met along the way sped ahead to relay the news. Now Ulfrik stood with Vilhjalmer between him and Finn, and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Are you excited to return home?"

Vilhjalmer shrugged. "There were some boring parts, but this was an excellent adventure. I don't think my mother would ever let me do this again."

"Nor would your father," Ulfrik said, patting the back of Vilhjalmer's head. "Nor would I, for that matter. A lot of blood was spilled on your account."

"But they were the enemy, so no matter."

"Spoken like a true noble," Finn said dryly. He exchanged a glance with Ulfrik over Vilhjalmer's head.

"Your mother still believes you were with Mord," Ulfrik said. "Or at least that was how I left matters. I think it's best you keep this adventure a secret between us."

"Then how will skalds sing of our deeds?"

"That will be for you to solve if you succeed your father one day. For now, enjoy the secret."

At last Gunnar steered his ship to dock and set the gangplank down. Hrolf and his wife, Poppa, waited at the end of the dock with rows of armored guards behind them. Always the giant in any crowd, Hrolf appeared especially tall next to his petite and retiring wife. Ulfrik helped Vilhjalmer to the gangplank, then let him proceed ahead. They walked together, Ulfrik's chest bursting with pride at the fulfillment of his task. Hrolf struggled to keep himself in check as Vilhjalmer bowed dutifully. "Father, Mother, I have returned."

Hrolf simply patted his son's head, but Ulfrik was certain he caught a glimpse of wet eyes. Poppa, his wife, gathered Vilhjalmer to her side and enfolded him with graceful arms, then she turned toward the hall with a dozen maids and as many guards falling in behind him. Now Ulfrik approached Hrolf and went to his knee.

"Your son is returned unharmed," he said. "And I have other news as well. Both Count Amand and Grimnr the Mountain are no more."

He dared to glance up. Hrolf studied him with a furrowed brow. He seized Ulfrik with both hands and lifted him to his feet, gripping him by his shirt so close that Ulfrik could smell the faint scent of mead on his breath.

"He got to Paris?" Hrolf's face was incredulous, and Ulfrik could only nod in confirmation. "And you slipped inside to complete the task I assigned you?"

"And I killed Count Amand in a church and broke Grimnr the Mountain's neck over a rock beneath the walls of Paris."

Hrolf's face trembled, then he crushed Ulfrik into an bear hug. He squeezed hard enough to drive out Ulfrik's breath. "Gods, man, I love you. You have done all that I asked and more, and kicked those Franks right in the stones while you did it."

Hrolf led Ulfrik with an arm over his shoulder at the back of the procession to the hall. For the evening's welcome feast, Hrolf slaughtered a heifer and invited hirdmen and tradesmen both to the celebration. Vilhjalmer's kidnapping was kept silent, but Hrolf positioned the event as a celebration of Count Amand's defeat and the dissolution of the traitor camp. Ulfrik sat at Hrolf's left hand, where Gunther One-Eye had traditionally sat. Gunther had apparently gone to help Mord with the surprise attack. Runa, Aren, and all the others yet remained at Eyrafell.

By the time the reveling had calmed, a cool night breeze was blowing through the hall. Ulfrik was hot with drink and the roaring hearth fire that bathed the room in a golden glow. Hrolf had been gregarious throughout the evening, talking with everyone and toasting everything he could imagine. Now with Gunnar and Finn having joined them at the high table after Poppa and attendants had retired, Hrolf gathered them close.

"I promised you a reward for your service," Hrolf said. "You deserve more than I can give you right now. But take over Konalsvik, give it a new name and a new garrison. I will send men to seed your ranks, but in time you will find more. It is an important location, but it has seen no action. Do not get comfortable there, as I will move you closer to the borders where honor dictates you should be. As for gold, take whatever Konal left behind, then tell me what it was and I shall match it. You will not be poor, not for all you have done for me."

Ulfrik blinked at the generosity. "You do me too much honor."

"Don't say it. Who else could have freed my son while cutting the legs out from the Franks?"

"That credit should be placed at the feet of Einar and Mord. They led the attacks that routed the enemy."

"And you cut off the enemy's head. Do not underestimate what the loss of leadership does to them. The fortress still stands, but without an army to occupy it and ships to protect it from flanking attacks, we'll smash it to splinters."

Ulfrik looked between Gunnar and Finn, both smiling like two children receiving Yuletide presents. Gunnar rapped the table before his father. "Will you allow my ship to dock with you while we figure out what to do next?"

"Of course, but I hope your plans involve raiding Franks and not sailing off again. I'm going to need experienced fighters."

"If there's gold to be had, you won't find any protest from my crew."

They spent the rest of the evening in celebration. Once men had crawled away to sleep in a corner, Hrolf stood and stretched. "I will retire now. Tomorrow, I expect you will want to rejoin your family. Give them my thanks, especially to your wife. She is a rare woman, and as brave as she is unruly."

"That she is," Ulfrik agreed.

Hrolf paused and placed a warm hand on Ulfrik's shoulder. "I can scarcely believe you still live. No man returns from his own funeral, but you did. Since we first met so many years ago, I have always believed you brought me luck. These years have been hard. I've lost territory and allies. But you have returned and already brought me a victory, I think the gods have shown I will prevail in this struggle. No matter how long it takes, we will drive the Franks back and make this a place where all our brothers can live united under a king of their own kind. Your return is the start of that time."

He squeezed Ulfrik's shoulder and staggered toward his room. Ulfrik watched his king go, but thought only of finding his home once more.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Eyrafell had seemed much smaller when Ulfrik had first visited Einar's fortress. He attributed that to his narrow focus at the time, but today he saw how large it actually was. High walls encompassed four quadrants packed with buildings filled with tradesmen and warriors, and the town bustled with life. Einar led him through the streets, pointing out buildings or other points of especial pride. He walked with a crutch, the arrow wound in the back of his leg still raw. He often stood on one foot and pointed with the crutch, swinging it in an arc that made some of his men duck. Finn was close at his heels, asking all sorts of questions about the town that Einar was too happy to answer.

They made for the main hall, with Einar between him and Gunnar and a line of crew and guards behind them. Ulfrik had more time to note the similarities between Ravndal and Eyrafell. He agreed with some of the changes to the design, while other things he would have chosen differently. Since Eyrafell had held the borders against the Franks, he could not be too critical.

"Runa and Bera have been preparing a feast all day," Einar said. "Our wives must be the two best cooks in the entire world. Do you smell that from here?"

"That's a taste I've sorely missed."

"My mouth is watering," Finn said from behind. "I could eat a whale."

The doors to the hall were opened and arrayed before them was his family. Their memories had been all that had sustained him for so many arduous years; to see them in the flesh again made his legs weak. Runa stood before his sons, Aren and Hakon, and she welcomed him with opened arms. He began walking, then jogging, and finally grabbing Runa into his arms and lifting her into the air with a squeal. The people gathered at the hall cheered, and Ulfrik kissed her like he had on the day of their wedding.

He set her down, embraced Aren, then grabbed Hakon by his shoulders. "Gods, son, you do look a lot like me. You grew into a man while I was gone."

Hakon had no words, but hugged his father and slapped him on the back. Behind them Snorri hobbled out of the dark hall, leaning on a walking staff.

"Here's a day I never dreamed of, lad. I'm glad these old eyes still see enough to welcome you home."

Ulfrik braced arms with his oldest friend and mentor. Snorri appeared so old and frail that he might shatter in a bear hug. Yet he pulled Ulfrik close and squeezed him with all the strength of a man half his age. Ulfrik laughed. "It is good to be home again, old friend."

A long night of feasting and stories ensued. Finn, who had befriended Runa and Aren, assimilated into the family like an old companion, and shared every embarrassing story of Ulfrik that he could recall. Of all the feasts he had ever held, this was the sweetest. So when the night grew quiet and only moonlight lit Eyrafell, Ulfrik stood in the doorway of the hall contemplating the long journey's end.

"What are you thinking?" Runa slipped her arm around his waist as she joined him in the doorway. They both stared up at the summer moon.

"I've spent much time remembering," he said. "So much that I've forgotten how to think for tomorrow."

Runa chuckled. "I doubt that very much. Your heart has ever been set on tomorrow."

"Yes, but I am starting over again. It will take years to climb back to where I was before Konal and Throst tore me down. I'm getting older, and the wounds don't go away like they used to. Actually, injuries I had thought gone have returned."

His wife squeezed him but kept her thoughts hidden. He kissed her head, enjoying her sweet scent.

"Hrolf was generous in his reward," he said. "But it is nothing compared to what I had before all this happened. I visited all my treasure hoards, but they've been looted or lost. Even my grave was dug up, and so the best part of my fortune gone with it."

Runa pulled away, then took his hand and placed a leather pouch in it. She folded his fingers over it, and he felt the hard gemstones underneath. His heart leapt and he stepped back, staring at the pouch. "Is this what I think it is?"

"I kept them, but did not know what to do with them. I was going to split them among the boys. Konal found the jewels eventually, and either kept them on his body or hid them in a loose rock in the well. Everything is in the pouch, every gem. Konal called it treasure enough to build a kingdom. That should help restore some of the wealth lost."

Ulfrik blinked, weighing the bag in both hands. "I think it won't be long before I retake Ravndal. You will dress in gold and jewels and sit on a chair inlaid with walrus ivory. I am certain with you at my side again, the future is ours to rule."

Runa's laughter was like the chiming of silver, and he kissed her again. When they pulled apart, she cupped his face in her hands and whispered, "Welcome home."

Author's Note

Hrolf the Strider was said to have taken Poppa of Bayeux as either his mistress or wife. He was to have captured her while on raid in Bayeux sometime between 885 and 889. Poppa's father is assumed to be Berengar II, making her Frankish nobility. The details of Hrolf's relationship with Poppa are not well known. Hrolf would eventually take a second wife, but this marriage might have been for political reasons and in fact might not have ever occurred.

Poppa did bear Hrolf two children. The firstborn was a son, Vilhjalmer Langaspjot Hrolfsson, better known to history as William Longsword. Years later she would bear Hrolf a daughter named Geirlaug who would go by the name Adela and eventually marry the future duke of Aquitaine. Vilhjalmer was said to have still been a pagan in his youth, though his mother was clearly Christian. Little else is known of his life or attitudes of his younger days. His role in history would come many years later. Hrolf's most famous descendant, however, would be William the Conqueror.

The entire account of taking Vilhjalmer hostage, Count Amand, and the gathering of a Norse "traitor" army along the Seine are entirely fictional. However, during this period, the Viking position along the Seine was at a standstill. The Franks had not succeeded in ejecting the Northmen, and the Northmen had no significant progress against the Franks in this area. There are still many years of struggle ahead, but the dawning of Normandy is now closer than ever. Ulfrik will be heading into a period of tumult just at the time he could use stability to rebuild himself. His future is fraught with peril, both from within and without.

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