Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) (5 page)

"Good work," Ulfrik said. When he stepped toward Finn, his leg buckled and the pain blinded him, though he marshaled a smile and steadied himself.

"Told you we should've killed them." The son who Ulfrik had just beaten sounded as if he were ready to cry.

"No doubt you should have," Ulfrik said. "But your chances for that are done."

"We don't have your gold," Gils said, still refusing to look at anyone. "So kill me if it'll make you feel better, but let my family go."

Inhaling the bittersweet scent of burning wood and thatch, Ulfrik smiled. "I burned down your barn, which makes me feel better. I don't believe anything you've said, Gils. That much gold is probably worth dying for just to pass it on to your family."

He grabbed the pitchfork and put his boot on the dog's corpse, yanking it free. One of the daughters sobbed at the sight. He pointed the bloody tines at the son on the ground. "I'll ask you to return the gold to me one last time. I'm sure you had to divide it among your other friends. Also, my sword and my traveling pack, all of it I want back now. If you don't, I'll use this fork to pluck out this one's eyes. What do you say, Gils?"

"I don't have any of your belongings. That's the truth. The four others, they're Thorgest's men. He's the true power here. We owed him gold, so when you arrived we promised to hold you long enough for his men to get your stuff. I saved your lives, you know that? Told them I didn't want any deaths on my head."

"And a bandit leader obliged?" Ulfrik's pitchfork did not waver.

"Not Thorgest, the four with my boys. I've known them since they were children, and they listen to me."

"Then they'll listen to you when you ask for my belongings."

Gils shrugged, and Finn dug the knife deeper. His two sons flinched, but Ulfrik touched the pitchfork to one's chest and they both subsided.

"Thorgest will have taken it from them by now."

Ulfrik stared at Finn, whose wide eyes indicated he was as nervous as the rest of Gils's family. Ulfrik had expected his belongings to be divided up, but not to a bandit leader. He silently cursed this ill luck, grinding his teeth in frustration. Now he had a whole family as hostage and was no closer to reclaiming his belongings. He could walk away, claiming what he could find from Gils's home. Yet his stolen sword was a beautiful weapon, made to his exact specifications. Also, it was no mean sum of gold that had been stolen, and he would be hard pressed to the same find again. Walking away did not appeal. Striking at a bandit camp was equally foolish, if not deadly. He had no real options.

"Well, we'll arm ourselves with what you have around your home. You at least have an ax, and Finn has found himself a fine knife. You've got to have other weapons at hand."

Gils seemed to relax, closing his eyes and slouching. The sound of the barn collapsing in flames shocked everyone, and all paused to listen to the flames crackle in the night.

Then Ulfrik pointed the pitchfork at the son on the ground. "And you can take us to Thorgest."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ulfrik picked a gray day of drab light and woolly clouds to enact his plans for Thorgest's bandit camp. He and Finn studied the camp from the edge of the clearing, and Finn pointed at a flight of geese flying over the crude hall at the center of the field.

"That's a good sign," he said. "They're headed for us and are high in the sky."

Spitting on the ground, Ulfrik reached for the hammer amulet that was no longer at his neck but given to Thorgest as booty. He shook his head. "Forget the gods and their signs. It wasn't the gods that made the plans and laid the traps. That was us, so trust yourself most."

Finn's boyish smile remained undiminished. In the flat light of the afternoon his freckled face still seemed to shine with hope. "I do. This is going to make an amazing tale when it's done. Two against nine!"

"Gods, now that's a way to curse us. Don't say anything until this is done. You're ready to carry out what we've planned?"

"Been ready for days now." Finn rubbed his hands, and Ulfrik could not help but smile at the enthusiasm.

The wind had been still since morning but then started gusting after midday. Ulfrik worried it would ruin their bow shots, and seeing how Gils had only six serviceable arrows for his hunting bow, they could not afford missed shots. Finn had a long knife and the bow. He had the keener vision and as a hunter was a deadlier shot. Ulfrik hefted an ax, a favored weapon of his giant friend Einar, but an unwieldy tool in his own hands. Choices were limited to whatever they scavenged from Gils's farm.

"Let's get the girl and begin," Ulfrik said.

He shouldered the ax and led Finn back toward their small camp. For days they had hid on the outskirts of Thorgest's base, watching the bandits' activities. He had feared Gils's barn fire would have drawn their attention, but like all bandits after an easy haul, they spent most of their days celebrating. They shared a few women for entertainment, at least by what he could see from outside the hall. They raised pigs and a goat, but otherwise did little else. These were opportunists and lay-abouts Ulfrik understood all too well. His only frustration was his lack of numbers; otherwise, he would have had Thorgest's head by now. Thorgest, the bandit leader, made one obvious appearance to witness a brawl that had spilled out of his hall. He had a whore under one arm, Ulfrik's sword at his side, and Ulfrik's gold chain about his neck. That had been his sole showing, and while he was strong and scarred, he was also bleary-eyed and careless.

He would soon be dead.

At camp, Gils's youngest daughter sat tied to a tree, gag still filling her mouth. Calling her the prettiest daughter stretched the compliment, for Ulfrik considered her only marginally better than ugly with thin brown hair and a protruding forehead. He assumed the bandits would covet her young flesh. He had not learned the girl's name, not wanting to put a real person to the tool he used her as. With luck she would survive, and he certainly planned on it. He had taken her hostage from Gils to ensure the farmer stayed quiet and did not betray them, and he had kept his word. The girl, too, remained docile when her gag was removed to eat and drink. He stood before her now, hands on his hips.

"Are you ready to earn back your freedom and return to your family?"

Her dark eyes were wide and she nodded furiously. Ulfrik smiled, and gestured to Finn who pulled out her gag and cut her free from the tree. He helped her stand and steadied her as she adjusted.

Ulfrik cupped her jaw and forced her to look at him.

"Here's what you'll do. Take this knife and hide it on your body. Go to Thorgest's camp and tell them you've escaped us. He'll press you about how you did it, so tell him you slipped us in the night and became lost. Here, tear your dress." Ulfrik grabbed her collar and tore the thin fabric to reveal the top of her cleavage. It was not as enticing as he had hoped. "Show him a bit of tit and you'll be on his bed straight away. That's when you call out for me and stab him. We'll rush in and finish the rest. You'll be safe to return home after that."

The girl stared at him in disbelief. Her trembling voice was barely audible. "You can kill all of them like that?"

"You'll have their attention. Three will be dead before they know it; three will die as they turn to face us; and three will die when they try to fight. That's nine dead. This is the only way, girl. You ready?" He pressed into her hand the small knife he had taken from Gils's farm and held it there. She continued to stare, her mouth struggling to form words.

Finn led her away and soon they were watching her approach the hall. She seemed tiny in the bland light. Two men appeared out of the shadows of the hall, one with a spear lowered. She started talking, and the men nodded, eventually taking her inside.

"How long before she betrays us to Thorgest?" Finn asked.

"The moment she realizes he has two teeth and smells like shit and ale, she'll be pointing the way to us. I just hope the bastard doesn't decide we can wait while he gets a better look at her body."

"I'll string the bow anyway." Finn put six arrows into the ground next to him as he readied his bow.

"Make every shot count," Ulfrik said. "I'll take up my position. Good luck."

They nodded at each other, and Ulfrik looped around the far side of Thorgest's small hall. As expected, all nine men filed out of the hall with drawn swords or leveled spears. Some had grabbed shields and helmets, expecting an easy ambush of Ulfrik and Finn approaching the hall. Thorgest followed behind, Ulfrik's sword bright in his hand. He opened his mouth to bellow a challenge when Finn loosed his first arrow.

The lead man collapsed with an arrow in his chest, barely giving a shout. In the moment it took for the others to notice his death, a second man spun away with a grunt as an arrow caught him in the face. The seven men, crowded at the door as they were, jumbled into each other as some tried to duck back into the hall and others leapt for cover the opposite way. Another arrow took a man in the leg and he fell in the midst of them.

Ulfrik charged out of the cover, screaming with his ax held overhead. Thorgest had fallen back into his hall while the remaining men turned toward him. Five faces drawn stiff and white with fear turned toward him. The charge was suicide against prepared men, but they were confused and frightened. Finn dropped another man as Ulfrik closed on the targets.

"There's only two of them," shouted Thorgest from the safety of his hall door. "I've got this one. Take the bowman!"

Thorgest charged out with his shield in front of him. The four remaining men whirled with their shields. Finn's fifth arrow sank into one of the shields.

Cutting to the side, Ulfrik veered from Thorgest's charge and began running in the opposite direction. His leg pained him and he cursed laying a plan that required him to run. Finn had the much longer run, and the more dangerous part of the plan. Once he had dashed to his set spot at the edge of the woods, he whirled back on Thorgest.

The bandit leader's fury was hot, having just lost four men. His face was red and lips curled back in a snarl as he hurtled forward. Ulfrik had the advantage of reach with the ax, and swept it at Thorgest's torso. A man can pull in his limbs or duck his head to avoid a blow, but no man can alter the trajectory of his body in flight. The ax swept into his side, the wedge-shaped head hooking him around his back like a fish on a gaff. He slewed to the side and crashed to his face. Ulfrik had little skill with the ax, but knew its advantages well. He slid around Thorgest as he fell and now had the ax raised overhead.

"Stop!" was all the bandit leader could shout before the ax slammed down on his head. His skull split with a wet crack and a jet of blood arced onto Ulfrik's arms. He let the ax go and pounded Thorgest into the ground.

"So I've stopped," he said over the corpse. "Now I'll have back what you've stolen."

He retrieved his sword and scabbard, then lifted the chain from Thorgest's neck after he had wrenched the ax out of Thorgest's skull. A search through his gore soaked clothes yielded the silver amulet of Thor's hammer given him by Gytha, as well as two others. "Seems the Storm God had no affection for you," he said as he stashed the other amulets. He would have to return later, for now he had to help Finn.

He did not return the way he had come. Finn's final destination lay to the west, and Ulfrik loped through the trees to where he expected to find Finn celebrating his kills. There were no sounds of battle, which was encouraging, but he approached the area with caution. The small clearing appeared in the trees and he saw Finn against a tree with no one else. Before him, the covered pit they had dug for days was now open.

"It worked!" Ulfrik shouted, exiting from the trees. Finn waved a tired hand at him but said nothing. "That was brilliant shooting. Reminded me of my old friend Snorri in his younger days. That man could shoot. Let's see what you caught."

He jogged to the pit and looked inside. Four bodies were impaled on stakes, three were dead and another struggled in silence with a stake that had impaled him through his left side. "Hey, no need to let this one suffer."

Looking up at Finn, he froze in horror.

Finn's clothes were soaked with blood. His freckles stood out in sharp contrast to the whiteness of his flesh. He gave a weak smile. "One of them threw a spear and cut my leg. It's not bad. What's wrong?"

Ulfrik schooled his expression, knowing full well any panic on his part would worsen Finn's condition. He drew a breath and smiled. "Seems like a scratch, but let's have a look at it."

"I almost missed the log we set over the pit. Could you imagine if I fell into my own trap?"

"I'd not let you live it down." Ulfrik gingerly peeled back Finn's shirt, finding the cut on his side and continuing around to his back.

"Wish I could've seen them fall in there, but I was busy running. Then a lucky bastard stuck my leg."

As far as Ulfrik could see, Finn's leg was unhurt. He gently leaned Finn forward and saw the ragged gash over his kidney. Had the throw been true, Finn would have died instantly.

"See, it's not bad." Finn's voice was already weakening, as if he were falling asleep.