"I found this," Einar said as he held out a scrap of green wool cloth. "It was on the floor, beneath a table."
Ulfrik took the cold cloth into his hand, rubbing it between his fingers. Others began to join, and Toki arrived along with Konal. Both of them leaned in, and Toki took the cloth from Ulfrik's grip.
"You think this might be from Hakon?" he asked as he examined the scrap.
"There is nothing about it that would tie it to any man. It is junk," Ulfrik said, looking skyward as a pinprick of cold rain hit his face.
"But it is fresh," Einar added. "And there is sturdy furniture in the buildings and straw on the floor."
"And the midden pits have seen recent use," Konal added.
Ulfrik regarded their hopeful faces, but beyond them the hirdmen slowed in their searches, breaking into small groups that drew their cowls against the cold and sat on the grass. They knew what Ulfrik believed.
"Anyone could be using this place, likely bandits shelter here."
"But they have gone, and nothing says anyone was here for several days, maybe as long as we've been searching for Throst." Einar took the cloth from Toki's hand and held it up. "Look at this; Hakon wore a green cloak."
"Boy, every other man here is wearing a green cloak," Snorri said, drawing gentle laughter from the cluster of onlookers. Einar's face turned red, but he smiled.
"We've come far," Ulfrik said, patting Einar's shoulder. "But at last I have to admit defeat. Someone has been here, but we cannot say who or when. We're now in Frankia, and have been away from Ravndal overlong. The men are tired and hungry, and we've got nothing left to seek. At this point, I feel foolish for having gone this far afield. Without a doubt, Throst is playing me for bigger gains. He wanted sixty pounds of silver, and he will contact me for it."
"How did he elude us?" Toki asked, shaking his head and kicking the soft earth. "We scoured that forest. It's as if he flew from the ground and left no trace."
Shoulders shrugged and heads shook. No one could understand it. Men feared the forest, particularly at night, where they heard the voices of elves and dwarfs mock them in the darkness. Some believed Throst had made a pact with the spirits of the forest to cover his escape. Even Ulfrik, normally at ease in the woodlands, felt a strange sensation of being watched while in those dark woods. Had it not been his own son in danger, he would have long abandoned the search. When it came time to send Gunnar and Runa back, he did not lack for volunteers to escort them.
"Perhaps we might shelter here ourselves," Ulfrik said, again glancing skyward. "If the hearth can be lit, we can dry out and rest before returning home."
"So you're done searching?" Snorri asked, his voice carrying an edge of accusation.
"Done searching with these men, who never expected to be in the field for days. But I will never stop searching. I will have every road and path watched; men will sit on every ridge and hill and look for movement. I will lead patrols. I will not stop, never fear. Sooner or later, Throst will show himself and I will be ready to pounce."
The men grumbled in satisfaction, and Einar dropped the scrap of green cloth and began to organize the men to make camp. Toki and Konal lingered on, and Konal picked up the scrap again.
"Do you see something we overlooked?" Snorri asked.
"No," Konal said, stashing the scrap into his belt. "This Throst is a tricky bastard. We'll have to match him for it, if we're to catch him."
Everyone agreed, and soon they all drifted to different tasks to prepare for their stay in the ruins. Ulfrik remained with Snorri, folding his arms and studying the sky. Throst had won this battle, but Ulfrik swore to himself that he would lose the war.
Chapter 24
Throst checked Hakon's bindings a second time, pulling the rope tighter around the wrists until the boy squirmed with pain. Then he loosened the rope enough so the hands would not go dead. He patted Hakon's head. "Put on a smile, boy. I might trade you off today to a man who lives in a stone castle. Wouldn't you like that?"
The frown he received in answer reminded Throst so strongly of Ulfrik that for a moment he could have believed it was him. He slapped his captive's cheek with an open palm hard enough to get his attention but not enough to damage. Still, the frown remained.
"You think Odin watches you? If he does, then he is pleased to let you be my prisoner. Think on that, boy."
The hall was dark and the hearth fire guttered low with a rippling orange light. The air was fiercely cold and damp, and defeated the heat of the fire. His few men huddled around it. Dan's hulking girth blocked the doorway and was a black blot against a gray light as he watched for signs of approaching riders. Olaf, sitting with his back to the hearth and braiding his beard, continued to check the doorway every moment.
"Clovis will come, no worries there," Throst said as he joined the men by the hearth. The heat warmed his nose and cheeks, but his stomach was cold. Despite his words, he wondered if the mighty Clovis would merely send another in his place. It mattered greatly to his prestige that Clovis answer, as he had specifically demanded when he sent his messenger days ago. The men regarded him with flat expressions, neither believing nor denying. Eyes that glittered with reflected fire met his, and he nodded at each man.
He housed his mother and sister in the other functional structure, a smaller home with a hole in its roof but a decent hearth. Their time in the caves had made both sick with a phlegm-thick cough. In some ways, their illness had saved them, for Throst had noted the secret glances some of the men had given his sister. Olaf had been chief among those who stared after her. Fear of sickness kept Olaf and others at bay. After food, Throst decided, women would be a priority for his men, if only to safeguard his family. Perhaps his deal with Clovis could include female slaves as part of the bargain.
Throst half feared Ulfrik's return, but knew it would be unlikely. As he had predicted, Ulfrik had found their base but failed to realize its significance. They were all surprised to find he had camped in the hall, and had even left firewood behind when he departed. He would have to remember to thank him for saving the effort of gathering it.
Dan suddenly exited the hall, and Throst bounded after him with the others rousing from their place at the fire to follow. No one needed an alarm to hear the thunder of hooves beating the ground. Under the milky gray weave of clouds the flat light cast the riders in dead colors, greens, reds, and browns, all sapped of life. Five of them in scoured mail and the conical helmets of the Franks thundered into the center of the hamlet, pulling their horses to a halt. Throst saw his mother and sister peek out their door, and he waved them inside with an irritated snarl. No need for the Franks to know about them.
"We are here for Throst the Shield-Biter," proclaimed one of the riders in a thick, disdainful Frankish accent. "Show yourself."
"I am he." Throst had awarded himself the name Shield-Biter, thinking to add ferocity to his reputation. Men put much stock in such nicknames, and having a strong one was of utmost importance. "And are you Clovis?"
The riders laughed and Throst tried to keep the disappointment out of his expression, though the cold place in his stomach grew more chill. The tree branches behind the men waved in distracting arcs as the wind strengthened. Earth still wet from the rain seeped through his boots as he stood expectantly, but the men merely leaned on the necks of their horses. Throst regarded the animals with healthy respect, for they were thick-muscled and their coats lustrous. Apparently Ulfrik had not slain all of Clovis's horses as rumors told.
"Well, have you ridden this far to see how long we can stand idle in the mud? You've entered my land, and so you must identify yourself to me."
The riders hooted at Throst's claim, which he understood was overly grand and unenforceable. Still, men must hear words often before they believe them.
"You brigands are on Lord Clovis's territory," said the lead rider. "And by rights we should run through the lot of you and be done with it. But lucky for you, my lord was interested in your proposition. He has summoned you to his camp not far from here."
"I had asked Lord Clovis to join me at my hall." Throst relished the look of utter disgust his challenge elicited.
Spears lowered and Dan, who stood beside him, drew his sword. The others stepped back in fear. "You'll do more than bite your shield when I'm done with you, boy. I'll ram the whole thing down your throat before I poke a hole in your guts. Now you've been summoned to my lord's camp. Either come on your own accord, or come beaten and bloodied, but come."
Throst smiled as if being patient with a child. "I understand, and we will follow you to Clovis."
"Only you and Ulfrik's whelp," the lead man did not retract his spear and neither did Dan stand down. The rest of Throst's men hovered between flight and surrender. He would have to do better than this pathetic bunch if he were to one day be a great jarl.
"Very well, but I cannot be distracted with holding the boy hostage while speaking with your lord. Allow me one man to lead Ulfrik's son to Clovis."
The riders conferred with each other, reverting to Frankish. While Throst hardly spoke the language, he understood it well enough to hear their confusion over Clovis's instructions. Throst needed someone to hold a knife to Hakon's throat, lest Clovis seize him outright. At last he heard the riders agree one more would not be a threat, and the lead rider announced as much to them in Norse.
"Olaf, bring the boy and be ready to cut his throat if Clovis thinks to take him. Dan, keep these men in line and protect the honor of my sister." Dan lowered his sword with a scowl at the riders, and Olaf hesitated as if to protest then went to fetch Hakon. Throst scanned the faces of the remaining six men. "Hold out a while longer, and you will enjoy greater riches. Don't flee now, when greater wealth is just in reach."
Once Olaf emerged with Hakon, arms tied at his lap and a rope fixed about his neck, the riders turned their horses and guided them a short distance to a clearing where several tents had been erected. Clovis's banner of a white swan on a black square flickered and cracked in the wind and the tents billowed with each gust. Clovis had suffered greatly after the arrival of Hrolf the Strider and Ulfrik, but he was still a mighty war leader. That he took caution in dealing with Throst filled him with pride.
"Surrender your weapons to us," the lead rider said, breaking his long silence. "Then go inside. He awaits you in his tent."
The small campsite held about twenty warriors, but only the five had horses. One horse was tethered to a tree near Clovis's tent, which must have been his personal mount. The men in the campsite did nothing more than talk in small groups, leaning on spears or sitting on the ground. As the riders delivered Throst to Clovis's tent, they paused and watched but offered no sign of worry. The guard at the entrance to the tent stopped them as Olaf tried to enter with his knife at Hakon's back.
"It's surety for our captive," Throst explained. "If you seek to grab him, we will make him useless to all."
"No weapons," the Frank said, and Throst doubted he had understood anything he had said.
"You have my word that I will not take the boy without paying a fair price." The tent flap opened and the man beyond could only be Clovis. "Give up your weapons and speak with me, Throst Shield-Biter. We've much to discuss."
"As you say." Throst inclined his head and noted how Clovis's dark eyes narrowed on Hakon as the boy passed beneath him. Inside the tent, Clovis set himself on a stool. He wore no armor, but carried a sword at his side. His clothes were rich and clean, his shirt as white as snow and his pants a vibrant green. His clean-shaved face hinted at a heavy beard where whiskers darkened his firm chin.
"And so this is Ulfrik's boy?" He crossed a leg over his knee and leaned forward. "I won't even ask for proof, since I see that swine in the boy's face."
"My father is not swine!" Hakon's sudden protest drew a delighted laugh from Clovis, but Olaf slapped the back of Hakon's head to silence him.
"He has his father's temper as well," Throst added. "As well as his foolishness."
Clovis's expression darkened and he appeared to drift into memory of something offensive, for his lip curled and his nose wrinkled. "So why do you ransom him to me, rather than Ulfrik? He would pay you far more."
"Then you will be surprised to know the great Lord Ulfrik did not place much value upon his son's life. He refused to pay my demands, and so I have come to you instead."
"This one is not his firstborn," Clovis said, sitting back on his stool. He looked up at Throst, one thin eyebrow cocked. "If Ulfrik finds no value in this one, why would I want him? So let's waste no more time with this child. I merely wanted to see him, to be sure you had truly done all you had claimed. I admire how you've managed to snatch his son from his hall."
"Your admiration flatters me, Lord," Throst said with a broad smile. "And I have hopes that we might work together, to benefit both of us."
"Work together?" Both of Clovis's brows rose. "Work together? You are a Northman, and though I speak your horrid language do not mistake that for love your kind. I just want to be able to understand when you people are begging for your lives under my sword. There will be no working together."
The cold returned to Throst's stomach and he felt Olaf's eyes on him from behind. Clovis wore an expression of singular distaste and physically leaned back as if the thought of cooperation was something that might touch him with filthy hands. Yet Throst did not let the show dissuade him, but pressed his point.
"Then at least we can benefit each other. I can provide the son you really desire, and you would be willing to pay for his capture. Of that I am certain."
"And you are right," Clovis replied, again his eyes narrowing at the thought. "Do you know why? Last summer, Ulfrik maimed my eldest son in battle. He humiliated him, battering him to the ground, and rather than do the honorable thing and kill him, he struck off his sword hand at the wrist. Now my son will never lead men in battle, never be a whole man. It's bad enough Ulfrik and his kind have wrested away lands my family has possessed for generations, now he has to take away the future as well. I will deliver the same to him, and so I have sworn. Once I would've been satisfied to kill him and be done, but now I want to destroy his future first, just as he has for me."