"I am glad you survived, but what happened?"
"We have the same question for you, lad?" Snorri's tired eyes fixed on him. He sighed and turned to check Runa. She was standing now with Bera and Einar's aid. Halla's children had come to her side and begun crying. This was going to be horrible to tell, and more horrible to hear. At last he searched for Aren, and not seeing him with Runa thought him asleep in their room. Only when he turned back to Konal did he see Aren's eyes barely reaching over the table to stare at him. He held Konal's hand.
"Give me your tale while Runa recovers," Ulfrik said. "And we will set everything in the clear."
Konal struggled with his story, and his men filled in where he stumbled. Ulfrik winced at how Konal had been beaten and Hakon carried off. "He was still in good spirits, and treated better than I would have thought," Konal said. By now Runa had stabilized and came to Ulfrik's side to hear the tale a second time. "Throst will take him to Clovis, that is my guess. He is destroyed now, only one or two men left to him. He shelters his mother and sister, but we hardly saw them. He feared what his men might do to them, I think. I am sorry I failed you, Lord Ulfrik."
"Never say it." Konal reached out for him and Ulfrik grabbed his arm, clasping both hands to it. "I know only too well how it is to meet with the unexpected. We could not have guessed Astra knew our plans."
Though he smiled and smoothed over the words, he had to suppress a shiver of dread. No one but Konal and he had known of their ploy, and only a few had been told of it after Astra had left. She had either guessed herself, or someone informed her. "Astra fled with Throst, I assume?"
"She returned to kill Aren and failed." Runa's voice was powerful yet emotionless, but Ulfrik still jumped with surprise.
"And she was killed in the attempt, I trust?" Runa shook her head and told him the remainder of the tale. By the end, Ulfrik was seated upon a bench and rubbing his face.
"This is like grabbing an adder by its tail," he said. "But at least you had the wisdom to let her live. I need answers from her."
"She's not talking," Halla offered, still standing while everyone else sat. "I don't think you will learn much from her."
"Do you think I will be merciful because she is a woman? Not for her crimes. I'll have her fingers cut off one by one until she tells me all I want to know, and there's plenty more of her to work on if she lasts through that."
"And then you will hang her?" Halla asked.
"Until her body rots off the tree." Ulfrik frowned at her, confused, and she waved away his confusion.
"She deserves death, especially if she led my husband into a trap. That is why I asked. What happened to Toki? Please, I cannot wait any longer."
Ulfrik stared at the floor, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze. He felt Runa staring at him and at last he met her eyes. Anger, sadness, confusion, and a raft of other emotions clouded her. It was as if she were another woman, so haggard and contorted was her expression. He drew a deep breath and related what they had discovered, leaving no detail out. "At last we followed their trail to Clovis's castle, and my worst fears had been confirmed. Along with Gunnar and Toki, they must have captured a dozen or so of Toki's men. I did not dare open contact with the Franks. We were tired and disheartened, and not prepared for battle with such a large force. We would be destroyed in open battle. So I returned."
"And left my husband a prisoner of your enemy?" Halla's voice was shrill as she glared at Ulfrik. Yet hard eyes turned on her unseemly outburst, and she schooled her tone. "How will you get him released? How soon?"
Ulfrik sighed again, looking instead to Runa who continued to watch him as if he were a stranger. "Clovis will demand a tremendous ransom, and I will pay all he asks. My one fear ..." He hesitated, wondering if sharing his concerns would only worsen matters, but he had already started and expectant faces awaited him. "My one fear is he will demand my land, which I cannot give, not without leave from Jarl Hrolf the Strider. I don't foresee him ceding any land to the Franks without a battle."
"That is nonsense," Halla said, forgetting herself once more. "Are you not the jarl here? You can do what you wish with your land, leave it if you will."
"I've sworn an oath," Ulfrik said, putting as much finality to it as he could muster in his weary condition. "Hrolf has awarded me the land and all in it, but I pay tribute to him. I've sworn to hold this land against his enemies. No matter the cost."
The bitter words sunk the room into gloomy silence. No one doubted Clovis and the Franks would demand land over gold. For his part, Ulfrik could already hear Hrolf's saddened but stern refusal to step back from the border. He imagined the request to Hrolf, could see his predatory eyes flash first with anger, then sympathy, and then the coldness of a king's decision. I
am sorry for your son
, he imagined him saying,
but a hundred men do not trade their honor and their homes for one man, no matter who he is.
After a long silence, Ulfrik asked for a meal to be prepared for himself and his men. He would rest, if his troubled thoughts would allow him sleep, and then question Astra later in the day. Halla, tears overflowing, took her children from the hall. Others broke off into groups, leaving Ulfrik seated in the middle of his hall. Runa sat across from him. She shifted to sit beside Ulfrik, placed her arm around him and buried her face in his shoulder. She began to sob quietly, and he could do no more than hold her and let her spill her sorrow.
Faces turned away to allow them some privacy, only Snorri regarded him from across the room. Ulfrik returned his stare, and the two shared the same unspoken fear. Ransom or not, would Clovis enact his revenge on Gunnar and take his hand? Looking aside, Ulfrik mumbled a prayer to the gods and fought back his own stinging tears.
Chapter 42
Snorri and Einar accompanied Ulfrik to the shack which imprisoned Astra. As they arrived at the small building squatting between the south and west barrack houses, Ulfrik mused that Gudmund had been held there before his hanging. It was a foolish connection, as he had nowhere else to hold a prisoner, but still something about it made him shiver. He wondered if the ghost of that cruel man was Astra's informant. He would learn soon enough.
While he had not rested, the guard outside the shack apparently had an easier time of it. Einar growled as he realized the man sat buried into his cloak, head tucked to his chest and spear balanced between his legs as he snoozed. Once they arrived before him, their shadows falling across his face, Ulfrik heard the man's snoring. Einar cursed him, snatched the spear from his lap and slammed the shaft into the man's gut.
He tumbled from the chair with a cry as Einar raised the shaft overhead with both hands. "Wake up, you've got visitors," he shouted, then slammed the spear shaft across the prone figure's head. The guard fell back with both hands outstretched, screaming for help.
"Enough," Ulfrik snapped. "We're all tired." To the guard lying on his back he snapped his fingers. "Get up and open the door. I want to see the bitch."
Taking a moment to recover, rubbing his head where a lump already started to form, he scrabbled to his feet. Einar continued to glare at the man, who recoiled beneath him. The door was barred with three bolts, which slid easily from the outside but from within made forcing the door impossible. The shed had no windows, and inside the only light came from beneath the door. In summer it stewed men in the humidity and in winter it froze them. Ulfrik had built it to be a sturdy, punishing cell.
The bolts thudded open and the guard pushed the heavy wooden door into the room. Light framed Astra directly against the wall opposite the entrance.
She was dead. A dagger pierced her throat and remained protruding from the base of her neck. Bright blood soaked her chest and lap. Her eyes were glassy and wide with shock, staring into the places only the dead could see.
The four men stood in silent shock, but the muscles in Einar's jaw were already twitching. His voice was a low threat. "How did this happen, you dog? You slept through this fucking butchery?"
The guard stammered and fell away, both hands raised in protest. Ulfrik regained himself and anger erupted from the depth of his guts. One arm struck out viper-quick, an iron grip seizing the guard by his neck. He slammed his other hand onto the guard's chest and threw him against the wall of the shack. Einar lowered the guard's own spear to his chest.
"I've had all I can take of stupid men causing me misery," Ulfrik said through gritted teeth. He glared into the guard's terror-widened eyes, trying to remember this man's name. It took a moment, but once recalled he twisted it into a threat. "Listen to me, Ingjald. Tell me what you've done and seen since you've been here. The truth, no matter how bad it makes you look, or you'll be searching for your teeth all over Frankia."
"I never heard anything or saw anyone," he said, stuttering. His breath smelled of beer and fish, and his eyes were bloodshot. "I swear it before the gods."
Snorri shook his head in disgust and limped inside the guard shack. Einar jabbed Ingjald with the tip of the spear, making him hiss with pain.
"And how long were you asleep?" Ulfrik tightened his grip, glancing past Ingjald at Snorri leaning over the corpse. "Did you ever leave your post?"
Ingjald's eyes fell away and Ulfrik had his answers, still he shook the guard until he spoke the words. "I met friends who returned with you. I was gone no longer than a man needs to share one drink with friends. It was not time at all."
Releasing him with disgust, Ulfrik would have to prove Ingjald's excuses. For all he knew, the murder could have been his handiwork. Einar never let his spear off Ingjald's chest. His face had deepened to an intense red as he yelled at his guard. "And your friends sent you back with more drink, no doubt. You never checked on your prisoner? Nothing made you suspect?"
Ulfrik did not remain for the interrogation, knowing full well Ingjald was useless. Inside the cramped shack, he stood beside Snorri and studied the bloodied heap slumped against the wall. Black flies danced in her blood and the heavy scent of death was thick. The knife jutting from her neck was commonplace. She did not seem to have struggled, which told him she was mostly likely killed by her informant.
"Einar," he called over his shoulder. "I need an accounting and inspection of every man, now. Keep Ingjald under guard until we prove his story."
Snorri prodded Astra's corpse with his foot. "Whoever did this should have bloody hands," he said. "Look at the blood spray on the floor. Someone has to be marked. Also, the smear here looks like the hem of a cloak dragged through the blood."
Ulfrik nodded agreement, searched for footprints or anything to indicate who had silenced Astra and finding nothing. Her eyes stared ahead, eternally frozen in shock at her final betrayal.
You got all you deserved
, he thought,
but I don't deserve your silence
.
Stepping back into the bracing, fresh air, Einar was already ordering men and having Ingjald bound. The hapless guard stared at his feet in quiet shame. Ulfrik knew he was a simple but well-liked man. His heart told him Ingjald had been honest, and that the real enemy had exploited his inattention. At the worst, his punishment would be a public shaming with every person of Ravndal pelting him with garbage and other refuse, while all his companions kicked him. He would be sore but hopefully chastened. The real traitor, whenever he was found, would be brutalized before dying in misery.
Assembling and inspecting the men consumed the morning, and revealed nothing. The worst blood stain revealed was from a nick to a hand that bled overmuch. The man even had witnesses to the accident. Eventually bloody rags were uncovered in a trash heap against the southern wall. It only proved someone had cleaned up. No one had entered or left Ravndal, meaning the person who wanted Astra silenced was still inside. He ordered no man to leave without his direct order, and to do so would equal an admission of guilt punishable by death.
By evening he had retreated to his hall, his mood fouled and his anger raw. Yet when he saw Runa and she smiled—a thin and ghostly smile, quick to vanish—Ulfrik renewed his heart. The remorse that had overwhelmed him at discovering Gunnar's defeat returned, and Runa's smile galvanized him to make amends. He put aside his foul mood and sat with her, taking her hand into his.
"I'm glad she died betrayed," Runa said, her voice a whisper. "I only wish we got more out of her. I needed her to prove ..."
As her voice trailed off, Ulfrik felt a tension flow out of his chest. Of course she was about to name Halla as the culprit. She had been away long enough, though witnesses claimed she had taken her children to the hall where Toki had left his possessions. Right now, he could not brook the ugly fight that would erupt if Runa accused her in public. It would only obscure the real search.
He squeezed her hand. "You are better than I deserve. Thank you for not speaking your mind on that count."
They sat together in silence, ate a meal prepared by Einar's wife and served at twilight. Men came to the hall in thoughtful silence, and Ulfrik recognized they all suspected one another of treachery. It was a horrible evening, though to his surprise Konal attempted to lighten the mood with foolish riddles he barely choked out in his weakened condition. At last, he had strength for no more and the hall again became a sullen gathering of suspicious people.
As the day ended and men returned to their own beds, Ulfrik sat groggy and tired overlooking the smoky gloom. Men presented themselves to him, swore loyalty and promised to uncover the culprit. Ulfrik thanked each man, but knew in the coming days there would be a dozen accusations and a dozen bloody fights over misunderstandings. Inevitably someone would be killed. All the while Ulfrik had to train his mind on the real issue of freeing both his sons and Toki from Clovis and Throst. He rubbed his face and closed his eyes.