Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) (38 page)

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a long sigh. "Then you go hail them and find out who they are. My eyes are not what they once were and I can't see that far, or I'd tell you if that was my son."

Finn grumbled and looked around for a tree branch. "There are no hazels?"

"They'll get your meaning. Just be careful and ready to run." Ulfrik watched Finn trot out to the shore, waving a long branch he had cut from a thin poplar tree. He shouted at the ship and leaned back as if ready to run. At first no one answered, but then Ulfrik noted a few blurry shapes waving from the deck. Finn called back to them, and soon tossed aside the branch and motioned Ulfrik forward. The ship came to life at the same time, men drawing the anchor stone while the sails were lowered.

"That's Gunnar's ship," Finn said. "That's Gunnar in the prow. Interesting fellow, he is."

Ulfrik strained to see Gunnar, but at this distance the shapes were still indistinct. "How is he interesting?"

"He's a lot like you, but there's something I don't trust in him. Sorry, I know he's your son. But something tells me he'd spill my guts if I told him it might rain tomorrow."

"Then don't talk about the weather." Ulfrik watched the ship approach. As it drew closer, his experienced eye took in all the details that turned his blood cold: arrows in the mast and hull, missing shields from the rack, a grappling hook stuck in the rail that still trailed rope. "Odin's balls, they were boarded."

As the ship nosed onto the bank, men jumped out to lead the ship onto a safe mooring. Gunnar jumped into the shallows and waded with his arms thrown wide. His shirt was torn, and collar to boot was splattered with brown stains. His wavy black hair flowed to his shoulders and his dark eyes gleamed with happiness. Ulfrik's heart lifted with pride and he blinked away tears.

"My boy," was all he could say as the two embraced on the muddy bank. His ship moaned as it slithered to a halt on land next to them. Ulfrik pulled back and studied Gunnar's face. He had new scars and his skin had grown leathery and hard from life at sea, but it was his boy's face nonetheless. "You've grown to be quite a man, Gunnar the Black."

"And you look solid for a ghost," he said, clapping his father's shoulders. "I never dreamed I'd see you again, but when I heard the stories in Yorvik, I knew you lived. You did well to spread your tale, for it led me home."

"We both have tales to tell," Ulfrik said, then searched over Gunnar's shoulder. "But now's not the time nor the place."

"Not while standing up to our ankles in river mud."

They laughed and embraced again, but now Ulfrik turned toward his ship. "Finn told me your mother was aboard. Is she too shy to greet me?"

Gunnar's smile vanished, and he put his arm on his father's shoulder. "Really, let's not speak any longer in the mud. Come with me up the shore and I will tell you what has happened."

"You were boarded," he said, trying to keep the trembling out of his voice. "Is she alive?"

"Yes, she and Aren both are alive, but during that fight she fell overboard. Konal was aboard one of the ships pursuing us, and he picked her out of the water. I know he saved her life, but you haven't seen what he did to her. Her face--"

"Just stick to what happened next. I will deal with Konal when I find him." Ulfrik thought of Konal's betrayal, and knowing how close he and Gunnar had once been, did not want to describe how he intended to kill him. Gunnar nodded as they mounted the short slope. A gentle breeze rustled the grass and birds sang in the morning light. The river was placid and on the opposite bank deer ventured to the water's edge.

"Aren saw she had been taken aboard Konal's ship, and that it was shoving off from us while we were tied to another enemy. So he jumped the gap and landed on Konal's deck. I couldn't see what happened to him. Konal had already beaten Aren's face out of shape, so I must believe he would be less gentle with him now."

Ulfrik pressed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't understand what happened. What drove him to this? I trusted everything to him when I was away. He was like a brother."

"Well, brothers can turn on one another," Gunnar said. "I did with Hakon, though not so badly as that. Our differences drove me to leave him and everyone behind. My part in all this is big, Father. When this is settled I will ask your forgiveness, but I would not give it were I you."

Waving his hand to dismiss the thought, he said, "That's because you have no children of your own, or you'd understand how easy it is to forgive one's blood for these mistakes."

Gunnar stared at him without expression. Ulfrik let out a long sigh, and punched his fist into his palm. "This is so frustrating. Vilhjalmer has been taken to Paris, and Runa is gone with Konal, Fate only knows where. I can't go in both directions at once, but choosing one path almost guarantees the other path will close. I can afford to lose neither my family nor my future."

"It is a hard choice," Gunnar said. He glanced back at his ship, which had not disembarked. "With either choice, we cannot stay here longer. Whatever ships we did not burn will be upon us now that the sun is risen. I delayed in hopes you would show, but we cannot risk another boarding. My crew does not warm to risks without immediate rewards, and they have no love of my family."

Ulfrik stared west over the Seine to where it vanished around a bend. Geese splashed down into the water as he watched. He wished he could fly as they did, and head straight to Paris before the sun reached the peak of the sky. His landbound feet could only take him so far, and Paris was at least two days away on foot. He took a deep breath and faced Gunnar.

"I'm going in both directions," he said. "I ask for two of your crew to accompany Finn to Paris. He is skilled in fieldcraft and will be able to reach the city on foot and get inside. I need to have him scout the city while he awaits me there. I just hope the Frankish court moves slowly and Hrolf does not learn what has happened."

"You'll have the men," Gunnar said. "Now what about Konal and Mother?"

"I will pursue them first. There is no sense in saving my future with Hrolf if I let my wife and son be stolen from me. I will find them and there will be no doubt that I have returned to bring an accounting for all of Konal's crimes."

He stared into Gunnar's eyes but was surprised to find no wavering or regret, only a hard look of satisfaction. "You intend to kill him?"

"He was behind my betrayal to Throst. He came to witness my hanging. There ends whatever loyalty I may have had for an old friend. The best I will do for him is make his death swift."

"It is the right choice. Now where do you think they have gone?"

"I don't think he planned to find Runa as he did, so he was probably not ready for a sea voyage when he left Grimnr's camp. He must have returned to his hall to prepare. Can you take me there?"

Gunnar smiled, "Nothing would make me happier."

They broke up, and Ulfrik described the plan to Finn, who was excited to lead an independent adventure into Paris. Gunnar provisioned him with food and enough mead for a few days on the road, and then he set out. Gunnar's ship sailed farther west for Konal's fortress, and Ulfrik prayed he had not already slipped away.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Runa paced in the hall that had been her home and now served as her prison. She and Aren sat alone by the hearth, the squalid light of a bleak day dribbling in from the partially opened smoke hole. Every shuffling footstep, every frustrated sigh echoed in the emptiness. Looms sat abandoned against the wall, baskets of thread sitting beneath them. Konal had chased everyone from the hall upon his arrival and tossed her and Aren in like two sacks of old clothes. She paused at the front door and tested it. They were still barred from the outside, a spear unceremoniously shoved through the door handles.

"How long will he be gone for?" Runa asked, her pale hand trembling against the door.

"He's loading however much he can take from this place before he flees. He could be hours yet." Aren tossed scraps of thread into the hearth fire, watching them burst into flame and float up with the smoke.

"At least he untied us," she said, massaging her wrists as she turned back to the hall. "That gives us an opportunity to act."

"I think he's aware of that," Aren said. "He won't return alone to face the two of us."

Runa glanced around but found only makeshift weapons, the best one being the iron poker for the fire. "We have to escape long enough for Ulfrik to find us."

"What makes you believe he will?"

She stared at her son and read the defeat she saw in the slouch of his shoulders and the downcast eyes. "Because we bought him time to escape. Gunnar will find him and send him here."

"Do you see the future now, Mother? We are within a walled fortress of enemies. How will he find us here?"

"Then on the water," she said. Aren turned aside and she grabbed his arm, pulling him to her. "You are only defeated if you surrender. I speak from my own experience. Look at my life since I believed my husband died. I gave up and earned the scorn of the gods for it, and they were sure to make me miserable. But all of this has awakened me to fight again. You must learn this lesson now, that no man may defeat you until you have defeated yourself."

He shrugged and continued to look away. "But still we are barred into this prison and await Konal's pleasure. There can still be defeat even if we choose not to believe it."

Runa let him go, not wanting to push his already sour mood. In time he would see the truth of her words, and for now was not wrong to see only their capture but not their escape. Even she did not see the end clearly, but trusted Fate was in motion and on her side. She had seen this too many times before to not recognize the gods at work.

As she continued to pace, the door trembled as the spear was drawn from it. She stopped, her hands cold and clasped together beneath her chin. Aren stood, stumbling back as if he wanted to shrink beneath the benches lining the walls of the hall. The doors swung open and Konal stood framed within, two men at his back. No one moved, until at last Konal stalked into the hall, a wavering shadow in the gloom. Runa stood beneath the high table where in happier years she presided over a full hall. Now she strained to keep her body from quivering as she watched her former husband pause beneath the milky light at the center of the hall. She could smell the mead on him.

"With all your plans you still found time to get drunk," she said, forcing herself to sound strong. Aren stared at her with warning eyes, but she did not heed him. Konal did not deserve any less, and if he would hold her captive, then she would make him miserable for it. "Maybe with luck you'll fall overboard and drown."

The words bounced off him, and he merely shook his head. He had shed his mail shirt and now wore a white shirt and black pants with a blue cloak. His face was red from drink, making the pale whorls in his burn scars more evident. Runa's eyes brushed across the sword at his hip and the daggers in his belt to find the pouch of gems reattached to his hip.

With a flick of his hand, he dismissed his men. "Stand outside, and no matter what you hear, do not enter."

The two guards shared pained looks, and one pointed to Aren. "Should we take him outside?"

"He's nothing." Konal wavered on his feet as he peered at Aren shrinking against the wall. "A good jumper, but otherwise not even as useful as week-old shit. At least you can burn shit for fuel. He just eats my food and drinks my mead, nothing more."

Runa bit back on her protective instincts. Aren was old enough to deal with his father and did not need her sheltering him. She bit her lip as Aren cringed and Konal laughed, but she remained silent. When drunk, Konal either wept for joy that Aren was his only blood kin left in the world or cursed him for a wasted life. Given recent events, he was not likely to see much good in his son.

The two guards gave Runa a sad look and shuffled out of the hall. Not all of Konal's men were beasts, and as these two had not been part of his crew, Runa figured they might be his most honorable men. Still, they closed the door behind them leaving Runa trapped with the wolf. She turned her chin up in defiance and folded her arms.

"You divorce me?" he asked, his voice full of disbelief. "In front of my crew, you shame me so?"

"It is my right under the law. You have publicly humiliated me at least three times--"

"When? How? This is outrageous." He stepped toward her, his face gleaming with sweat and his eyes fever-bright. He stumbled in his drunkenness, but steadily approached her.

"Look at my face. Everyone knows how you beat me. Ask Groa or any of the other women. They all know."

He nodded appreciatively, taking one deliberate step after the next. "So that is reason for divorce. But where will you go?" He mimicked deep thought, putting a hand to his brow. "I know. You think your dead husband is still alive. He'll take care of you, won't he?"

"You went to make sure he was dead, didn't you?"

Konal paused at the edge of the hearth, staring at her. "What do you know of where I went and what I did? How can you know anything?"