"In time," Throst said. "We have to pass this trial first, and then begin the next part of my plan."
Olaf snickered, then tore at his strip of fish with his yellow teeth. "You don't respect us enough to tell us the next part? Who do you think you are, keeping us holed up in a cave with nothing more than a promise of a better future."
"Watch your tongue," Dan growled. "Show respect to your leader."
Warm satisfaction spread in Throst's chest, for Dan had become Throst's enforcer. The death of Pepin had been such a release for the giant man, who apparently had grown to detest his former boss, that he eagerly transferred his allegiance to Throst. Now anyone who rivaled Throst would have to deal with Dan's mighty strength as well.
"It's fine, Dan," Throst said with false magnanimity. "Olaf has a fair point."
He scanned the hard faces in the dim light, each one craggy and scarred from a hard life of fighting. That he commanded their loyalty amazed Throst, and in such a moment as this, with every eye searching him for leadership, he felt as strong as a giant. Though he only had eight men in his gang, it was the seed of greatness. With the right reputation and a solid cache of wealth, he would attract more followers and forge himself a destiny.
"I still have designs on his eldest son, Gunnar, and he is still in reach, even if Ulfrik would believe otherwise."
Heads turned to face each other, but Olaf was the fastest to ask the questions. "Even I believe otherwise. I was your man inside, and if you think the others left behind will risk so much for you, you're a fool. Some may not like Ulfrik's ways, but I don't think they'll like yours better."
"Thinking was not what I wanted from you when I accepted your oath," Throst said, and a few of the quicker-witted men laughed. "Just know that Gunnar's freedom is at my pleasure, and I can pluck him from Ravndal at any time."
The boast drew laughter from all but Dan, who glared at the others. "He didn't let us down so far, did he? If he says he can nab Gunnar, then he can."
"I can," Throst agreed. "After one more day hiding, we will return to our base. And then, I want to increase the pressure on Ulfrik. Once we have returned, I will contact Clovis who will pay in more than gold to get his hands upon Gunnar." He clapped and laughed at the idea. "Ulfrik will not know which way to turn."
Chapter 22
Every sinew in Runa's body ached, and her stomach burned with worry. Her mind was a furor of thoughts and images, none of them good. She sat on the edge of her bed, no longer willing to chase sleep like it was a rabbit fleeing down a hole, and held her head in both hands. The change of clothes refreshed her and the cold air on her throbbing feet felt good. The cool and quiet darkness of her private room was soothing. But none of these comforts made any difference to her.
Having returned to Ravndal ostensibly to rest, she considered it defeat. Time had passed in a blur, and combing the lands for signs of Hakon had lasted long enough to spend all her strength. Ulfrik had finally insisted she would better serve them at the hall, in case news should come while they were gone. At the time it made sense to her addled mind, but now she realized he wanted her out of the way and that she needed the break. Needed or not, waiting in the hall for something to happen would never satisfy her. Regret for having returned now filled her heart.
Hakon remained the prisoner of a madman and she would not rest until he was freed. She wished Throst had hanged alongside his father. Snorri had warned them that mercy had a way of twisting back on a man. Of course, no one could have guessed this. She massaged her temples, and tried to stop thinking about something that could not change. Throst lived and now took revenge upon them.
Slipping on her shoes, she stood from the bed and adjusted her skirt. Her long knife was still strapped tight against her thigh, and she snorted in disgust at it. "What good did this do me? My son was still snatched from home, weapon or no."
After roughly combing her hair, she exited to the main hall where a quiet darkness enveloped the empty spaces. With no large meal to prepare, the hall sat emptied of all but the servants who slept within it. Two thin Frankish girls lay on the floor by the gently glowing hearth, the embers pulsing a low heat. Runa felt her stomach match the rhythm and burn of the hearth fire and she placed her hand over her belly. The two girls stood as she entered, but she waved them away. Einar's wife and daughters sat opposite of the low hearth, bundling wool that had been spun earlier in the day.
"Where's Aren and Gunnar?" she asked. Her stomach burned hotter at their absence.
"Aren is asleep under the table," said the oldest girl, Matilda, who pointed to a dark lump bundled into a brown wool cloak.
"And Gunnar went to watch the walls," Einar's wife, Bera, said as she piled her bundle of spun wool into a basket. "Though he should return soon with sunset near."
Runa sat down, as relieved as if she they had dispelled bad news. She rubbed her face, knowing full well she could not worry at every absence of her children but was unable to stop. Bera set aside her work and joined Runa on the bench, taking Runa's hand into her own.
"I'm certain Hakon will be found. I can't imagine your suffering and worry. Matilda is only a few years younger than him, and the thought of one so young ..." Bera's voice trailed off as she blushed at her artless words. Runa could not help a small laugh at Bera's humiliated expression. She was a good woman but naive in her youth. She and Einar made a good pair, for both shared a simple and honest personality and worked hard for what they desired.
"No need to speak of it," Runa said, and squeezed Bera's hand. "I know your intent, and I am glad for it. It will be a happy day when Hakon returns home, and I too believe that day will be soon. The men are searching every corner of the forest and watching the trails. Throst will be caught and my son freed."
"Well then, that is good," Bera said with a smile, and again Runa laughed. It was the first time she had smiled since Hakon had disappeared, and it felt strange on her face. Still, even if short-lived, the smile lifted her mood.
Then the hall doors opened, the orange light of the late hour flooding around the slim figure of a platinum-haired woman. Runa recognized Halla immediately and her heart fell and the burn on her guts redoubled.
She swept inside, head swiveling to take in the hall, and she paused inside the door until she fixed on Runa. She flitted across the room toward her, and Runa stood. Bera also stood, and stepped away as Halla neared, excusing herself with a murmured apology. She passed Halla, who did not spare her a glance, and gathered her basket and daughters to prepare to leave.
"My dear sister, it's true that you've returned," Halla said with a false breathlessness that instantly set Runa's teeth clenching. "Why did you not call for me after you arrived?"
"Why disturb your rest?" Runa said, standing stiffer and feeling her hands tremble. She had avoided Halla since her arrival, and quartering her and Toki in another hall had made it easier, but she knew eventually they would have to interact. She just did not want it to be this moment.
"And how can I rest knowing my nephew is in the grip of a murderous wolf? When I close my eyes, I can only see poor Hakon suffering horrible tortures. No, you should've summoned me immediately."
Runa stared hard at her. Halla's pale eyes and snub nose reminded Runa of her father, and the same wicked glint as her father flashed in them when she described her fears for Hakon. Whatever appeal she held in her youth, age had stolen from her. The frown she always carried had written itself into her flesh, so that even the false smile she now wore appeared mean and angry. Her lustrous hair, once her pride, was now dull and thin. Halla was an evil witch, and Runa had always known this. What her brother saw in her and why he kept her all these years was a mystery and a curse for Runa.
"And so you have come and expressed your worry," Runa said. "Now I am tired and want to rest. Don't let me keep you."
"Never say it. I will be at your side during this horrible time. I will pray to Jesus Christ that Hakon is safely returned home and is spared agonizing torture, or worse yet, death. How trying it must be for you to know your son is being torn apart and you are powerless to act. I must remain with you!"
Runa's glare froze the room, and her vision fogged around Halla's face. She was actually smiling as she dug at Runa with her unconcealed malice. Through the haze, Runa saw Bera and her daughters fleeing the hall and the serving girls fading into the shadowed corners. She felt her eye twitching and her hand tingling to find the hilt of her knife.
"You little witch," Runa hissed. "You take joy in my son's terror?"
Halla's ice-clear eyes went wide with mock consternation. "How could you say that? I am your brother's wife, and the pain of his family is my own as well. I just can't stop seeing poor Hakon with his eyes torn out or his tongue cut from his head, or even worse."
"Silence, bitch!" Runa's hand drew back but stopped as Halla defied her with a honey-sweet smile. "Whatever you think I won't do, think on it again. You are testing me to my limit."
"Oh, so now it's Runa the Bloody once more?" Halla placed her blue-veined hands over her chest. "She solves all her worries with the stroke of her sword. Well, here's something she can't cut to bits and make go away. Her son is lost, no doubt due to her own carelessness, and her sword has no one to strike."
"Your head would be a fine place to strike," Runa hissed and reached down for her blade, but again stopped.
"Try it," she said with a smile. "Here's my head, ripe to be split. But you won't, will you? We are family, after all, and your brother loves me above all others."
"And for what I shall never know. You are worm-shit at the bottom of the world. You are a cockroach to be crushed underfoot. You are a pig-nosed, lying, evil-minded whore!" Runa's shouts echoed through the hall, and she recoiled at her unbridled anger. Her head was hot and unwanted tears puddled in her eyes. Her heart pounded as if she had run up a mountainside.
Halla moved closer, and her voice was low and full of threat. "You believe I wanted to come here? I'd sooner slice open my own belly than live within a thousand leagues of you. But your brother has suffered from the neglect of your arrogant, stupid husband and he could not be happy apart from this awful place. So I am here to please Toki, and he is glad for it. Slander me with whatever filthy names you can imagine, but I am a better woman than you. What do you bring to your husband but your complaints and demands, your temper and your fixation with swords? You weren't even faithful to him, and then you force him to father another man's bastard."
The slap crashed hard into Halla's face and staggered her. Runa's hand stung but the release of anger compensated. "I'll have your tongue for that. Never repeat such trash."
Holding her face, Halla straightened herself and brushed her hair aside. "Like you did when you murdered my mother?"
"Your mother was an oath-breaker who sent men to rape and murder me. Cutting out her tongue was mercy."
"No, you murdered her. That cut was ill done and her wounded tongue never recovered. She suffered for a year before dying from it, all while you rolled in bed with your young lover."
"I warned you," Runa said, raising her hand again, but Halla laughed. It was a horrible, breathless sound more akin to choking than laughter.
"I am not afraid of you any longer," she said. "Jesus Christ has blessed me and I fear nothing while I stand in His light."
"I see no light around you. Now be gone from my hall, and do not return. You can smirk all you want, but I will soon grant your wish to send you far from here. At such a time like this, all you can offer is grief. You are not welcomed here, and will not be permitted to stay."
"Your husband makes those decisions, and he has chosen to have Toki at his side. I think I may yet be here a while. So, as I said, dear sister, I will pray that Hakon does not have his balls sawed off and stuffed into his little mouth while he is abused by the captor you carelessly let into your so-called stronghold. You will need my prayers, since your own efforts as a mother are complete failures."
"Get out," Runa growled and pointed at the doors. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she no longer cared.
Halla inclined her head, her cheek bright red where Runa had slapped it. She glided halfway across the hall, then turned back to offer one last jab. "His face is ruined now, a horrible mess. Do you still want to lie with him, or was his prick destroyed in the fire too?"
Runa shrieked and leapt for Halla, but she sprang like a deer and bounded for the exit, laughing as she escaped. Runa stumbled forward, tears and dirt smearing her face, and bellowed at the doors as they slammed closed.
Chapter 23
Wet, cold, and out of food, Ulfrik and his hirdmen stood bedraggled and listless in the center of the destroyed Frankish hamlet. The sky was leaden gray, boiling with clouds that promised to renew the rain that had blanketed them during the night and the morning of the search. Groups of hunched, dark men made quick searches of the few buildings that had not collapsed into piles of rotting wood and thatch. Ulfrik stood at the center of the abandoned community, huddled in his cloak and frowning out at the work. Snorri leaned on a sturdy branch he had found to support him, and Ulfrik's peripheral sight caught him rubbing his leg and wincing. The damp weather aggravated his old wound. Even Ulfrik's old injuries hurt almost as bad as when they had been fresh.
Einar, who lead the search with Toki to aid him, emerged from the main hall and carried a bit of cloth with him. He held it up in the bland light as if it were something significant.
"Finally something," Ulfrik grumbled to himself, and started toward Einar. Snorri limped alongside him.
"Scraps and nothing more," Snorri said. "We can't even be sure Throst came this way."
Ulfrik had heard the same complaints from his men when they thought him asleep or out of earshot. He could not deny the truth of it. Throst's trail had long gone cold; in fact, it had disappeared almost immediately upon entering the forest. Toki suggested they had waded along one of several creeks, and it had made sense until no footprint or other sign of passage ever emerged along the length of any creek. Without a definite path to follow, he had nothing more than guesses to serve as his guide. There had been only so many places where Throst could have gone in such short time, but every one of them had yielded nothing. He began to despair, and left men behind to continue the search while he moved out toward ever less likely places. Now they were over the Frankish border, still not too far from Ravndal but farther than Throst should have been able to reach in the few days of searching. He had remembered this place from his early battles to secure these lands, and guessed it could hide Throst. He would soon find out.