Banners of the Northmen (28 page)

Looking over Runa, he tugged at his beard. "In fact, I can."

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

April 5, 886 CE

Paris looked no different to Ulfrik as his ship approached it from the other side. It remained the same squat, foul-smelling, smoking mass jammed into the middle of the river. It was like a fist that had punched the Danish army in the crotch, hobbling and weakening it into ineffectiveness. The ship glided across the water with the dozens of other vessels returning to the despair. Trees once bare of leaves now waved boughs of fresh green at the Danes as they sped past. White and gold flowers bloomed and birds hunted at the water's edge. The cold and wet winter had yielded to spring.

Seeing Paris again renewed all the conflicts he had set aside. The people of Nye Grenner had no walls to protect them, no bridges to bar ships from approaching. The days would be growing longer and the weather more predictable, and Thorod and Skard would soon discover an undefended hall. He had to act now or his family would suffer.

Across the water, Toki stood at the tiller of
Raven's Talon
. Beside him raced five more ships Ulfrik had accrued since joining Hrolf. As lords and oath-holders died, men swore new oaths to new jarls. Hrolf had attracted more than any other, and he doled out these followers to both Ulfrik and Gunther One-Eye to command and organize. He now had more fighting men than ever before. The raiding they had conducted in Frankia's interior had tested the new men, and demonstrated Ulfrik's leadership. The resistance had been light, but with enough skirmishes for the new war band to learn how to function together. Despite carrying away little tangible wealth, he had welcomed the chance to shape his force and do something other than huddle in a trench or in the ruins of an abbey.

Reunion with the Danish holding force was a tepid affair. Ulfrik guided his ships to a stretch of beach, set guards, and returned to the camp. Men who had stayed behind bore defeat like a stone lashed to their backs. They shuffled past and through their returning comrades as if they did not exist. One man had even bumped Ulfrik's shoulder, pushing forward without even turning his head. Mord grabbed the man to force an apology, but when he wrested free, Ulfrik dropped the matter.

"Home again," Ulfrik said to no one as he looked at the old campground. Many of the tents had been left behind, and a number had fallen or blown away. His returning crews moaned at seeing the state of their old shelters. Along the north bank, construction that had begun in winter of temporary barracks and halls were now complete. Their fresh, white wood faces beckoned from across the water, appearing as palaces in comparison to the ruined abbey and camps of the south bank.

"Nothing has changed but the weather," remarked Toki as he joined Ulfrik. Both walked toward the ruined abbey where Hrolf and his ranking men slept. The fire-scorched walls and collapsed roof provided more protection from the elements than simple tents.

"The gods have grown bored with us, and turned their eyes elsewhere." Entering the abbey, the enclosed space pressed Ulfrik, having become accustomed to long months living under open skies. Sounds were louder and the air stale. A pitiful hearth fire crackled with a sprinkling of listless men in attendance. He glanced behind to summon Snorri, who followed him inside with his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Well, lad, back to scratching our asses while we wait for Paris to fall over." Snorri hefted a sack filled with his mail and other items. The seams had ripped in spots and the contents threatened to spill.

"Gather all the Nye Grenner men in the fields behind the abbey. Keep it away from Hrolf's eyes and be fast." Ulfrik glanced over his shoulder, spotting Mord lingering at the door in conversation with friends. "Word of my actions will travel fast enough, but I want to be done before Hrolf visits me."

Snorri paused, his brow furrowed but his lips clamped tight. He tossed his sack into a pile of others and began leaning into men to whisper Ulfrik's command.

The Nye Grenner men assembled in the appointed field, arriving in small clusters as Snorri dispatched them. Gram Redbeard, Darby the Shepherd, and Thorkel Flat-Nose were the last surviving hirdmen to have followed him from Norway and the first to arrive behind the abbey ruins. Others joined them, speculating in low voices and worried glances stealing over their shoulders. Snorri and Toki arrived with the final group, and Ulfrik cleared his throat for the group's attention.

"We don't have much time, so let me come to the point. You have served with such honor that I cannot think of better men to stand with me in the shield wall. None of you have complained for all the long months we've been here. None of you flinched when I ordered you up ladders and into the arrow storm. You are the men skalds choose for their songs. So it weighs heavy on my heart to send you home."

Confused looks circled the group, now less than half of the eighty who had followed Ulfrik to Frankia. Ulfrik's heart beat in his throat, and his eyes grew hot. He had been preparing this talk for a week, but in the moment of delivery weakness and sorrow overcame him. In this land of hostile strangers, these men were his sole family.

"But we have not defeated Paris." Einar, who stood a head taller than any other man, still raised his hand to catch Ulfrik's attention. The gesture drew a small smile to Ulfrik's lips.

"You are done with Paris, but I am not. I promised you would be home by the end of winter. I need not remind you that Skard and Thorod will be rousing from their winter dreams and filling their ships with hungry men. You have a battle to fight, one more important to you than Paris. Go defend your homes."

Faces fell and eyes averted. Ulfrik understood their struggle. Each man was oath-bound to stay with Ulfrik, yet each feared for his family and flocks. None dared shame himself with admitting his thoughts to another.

"We are at half strength," Gram Redbeard said, addressing the others around him. "Before Paris we were barely an even match for Skard."

Eyes fell back to Ulfrik, who nodded and began to pace. "I have considered this, and already have a plan. Hundreds new men have come to my banner either by choice or the deaths of their jarls. Many wish they were elsewhere. Those I will dispatch to Nye Grenner, where the glory of a real fight awaits them and young widows will be seeking husbands. I do not doubt I can refill our ranks with good men. You've been fighting alongside them and know their quality. Only the best will return with you."

A grudging murmur of acceptance rippled through the ranks. "Who will lead if you do not accompany us?" Ulfrik did not see the questioner but soon all were repeating the same concern.

"Toki," Ulfrik pointed at his friend, whose face whitened in surprise. "And Snorri will advise him."

Snorri snapped his head to Ulfrik, as shocked as the others. "You're sending me away?"

"I'm sending you to aid my family, and share your wisdom with my friend and brother. I must remain behind to lead the men Hrolf has entrusted to me and to honor my oath to him. Is there anyone here who cannot accept this arrangement? Speak now."

Men shared cautious glances, but Darby the Shepherd spoke first. "I agree. I've been with Toki for many a battle, and he's true in a fight. I'll stand with him any day."

Murmurs turned to cheers that Ulfrik had to silence for fear of drawing attention. "Then all is settled. It's a long journey home, and dangerous. Be prepared to leave at dawn tomorrow. Your portion of the spoils I take here will be shared with you, or your families if you should fall in battle, once we are rejoined. I swear this before the gods."

Men spoke in hushed but excited tones as the group disbanded, and Ulfrik knew he had given them what they truly wanted. Toki and Snorri lingered, along with Einar and several others.

"Why didn't you talk to me about this first?" Toki asked. "I'm not the right one to lead Nye Grenner."

"Then it is time to conquer your doubts. Nye Grenner is as much yours as it is mine. You settled the land, built the hall with me, defended our homes as bravely as any. I am counting on you. Listen to Snorri, but lead with your heart. I don't know what you will find back home, but I trust you will know what to do."

Toki opened his mouth to protest, but then turned away. Ulfrik patted his back, understanding Toki's confusion but believing he would rise to the challenge. Ulfrik had seen maturity in his friend's thoughts, despite his foolishness with women. He needed freedom to realize his ability, and Ulfrik knew leadership would be the forge to shape him. Ulfrik required capable leaders he could trust, especially if Hrolf's promises of territory and riches were true.

As Toki thought, Snorri took Ulfrik aside. "I've never left your side, lad. Don't send me away before the walls come down here."

"I'm not sending you away. You are acting on my behalf, protecting my family and my people. Go, and judge what must be done, then do it. I can no longer fulfill every obligation by my own hand. I must work through those I trust, and I trust few more than you."

"When your father died, I served your brother. After I realized my horrible mistake, I swore I would never falter in my duty to protect you. I've been your right-side shield in every battle. I can't imagine you fighting without me while I still live."

"Think of my sons in Thorod's or Skard's vile hands." He patted Snorri's shoulder. "Will you do as I've asked?"

"That I will, lad." He faced Ulfrik and the two embraced. "No one will harm your boys, I swear it." Ulfrik nodded and started to leave, when Snorri grabbed his arm. "But you do one thing for me. Let Einar remain with you. I can't show him anything more, and he should earn his place with you. Will you do this?"

He bit back protest, then reconsidered. "He has great promise. All right, Einar will remain with me, if he agrees."

Everyone satisfied, they drifted away to their own tasks. Ulfrik began considering the men to augment the Nye Grenner force, but each thought summoned Hrolf's face. Once Ulfrik's plan reached him, Hrolf would be in his rights to name Ulfrik an oath-breaker. If he did, Ulfrik was glad his closest companions would not see his shame, or his execution.

Ulfrik pulled his cloak tighter as he strode the final distance across the wet grass. The newly constructed longhouses on the northern bank were clustered into a tight camp, haphazardly arranged with a poor eye for defense. Though drier than the ruined abbey, Ulfrik considered the camp more vulnerable. Men crisscrossed the spaces between buildings on various errands. Voices joking or cursing mingled with the singing of birds in the trees. Smoke fluttered from holes in the ceilings as evening sucked light from the sky and poured chill into the air. Hrolf's red and yellow dragon standard flew from his banner pole outside his temporary hall. He sighed and approached the two guards posted at the doors.

One smiled sheepishly as he opened the door, while the other relieved Ulfrik of his swords and throwing axes. "Jarl Hrolf is waiting. Good luck, Jarl Ulfrik."

This was Ulfrik's first visit to Hrolf's new hall. Stepping inside, the scent of fresh-cut wood, smoke, and stale beer assailed his nostrils. The hearth blazed orange heat, and two Frankish girls tended it with billows and iron pokers. Hrolf sat in a huge chair he had constructed to hold his giant body. He leaned to one side in it, head supported by his hand glistening with gold rings. No one but the girls remained in the hall, making the space seem enormous though it was not much larger than the hall constructed for Ulfrik.

"Attend me." His deep voice echoed in the emptied hall.

Yet another sigh, then Ulfrik approached Hrolf and went on one knee before him. The gesture pained him, for never had he nor his father before him taken a knee to another man. Fate had chosen otherwise for him, but he still bridled against servitude. "At your service, Jarl Hrolf."

"At my service? Get off your knee and look at me."

Hrolf had not shifted his position, his face resting slack in his hand as if enduring a dull performance. For his own part, Ulfrik feigned earnestness while containing his frustration and worry. He searched Hrolf's eyes for a clue to his success, but the jarl remained inscrutable.

"I've cleared the hall of everyone but two slaves. Normally I'd fill it with as many people as I could find. Do you know why I wanted privacy?"

"That we may speak freely," Ulfrik guessed, and the frown from Hrolf informed him of his error.

"To contain your shame, you fool! You know why I summoned you?"

"Because I sent three ships of men back to Nye Grenner without your leave."

"Because you sent them at the worst possible moment!" Hrolf snapped forward on his chair, hand slapping the armrest. "You must have known Sigfrid had already quit the fight. Allowing your men to run home makes it seem you've no faith in my success."

"Sigfrid took his payment and left after I had dispatched my men."

Hrolf flopped back in his chair, crossing his arms with a scowl. Sigfrid had grown so tired of inaction that he had opened negotiations with the Franks and took sixty pounds of silver as payment to leave the fight.

"That is a detail not worth debating," Hrolf said. "Sigfrid is all bluster, but no edge to his sword. We're better off without him and his cowardly followers. I will take Paris alone, and the spoils will be all mine. You were supposed to aid me in this, remember?"

"And every day all I think of is how to breach the walls." Ulfrik inclined his head, hoping to hide the anger rippling into his temper. When Hrolf did not answer, he peered out from under his brow. Hrolf's stony eyes searched him, a sneer twitching to break free on his face.

"My command was to deliver all your men to serve me until dismissed. You broke an oath to me when you sent your men home. Why?"

"I am at war with my neighbors, and in summer they will be certain to attack. Our homes and families must be defended."