Islands in the Fog (12 page)

Kjotve's smile grew and he stood straighter. Hardar looked past him at the blurry line of men. Errant flashes rolled off their helms, but none stirred or indicated attack. He looked back at Kjotve, who folded his arms loosely across his chest. Gold and silver armbands glinted under the sleeve of mail. "I've placed my men in the open and not in the most strategic spot. I wanted you to know we have no ill intent."

"That's why you're all readied for war then?"

"We have to be prepared for anything from you. Besides, I could've plundered your home three times over since you left this morning. I've been to visit your wife, Ingrid. She is a charming and beautiful woman."

"If you touched her, I'll have your balls." His hand reached for his sword; a vision of Ingrid welcoming this brute to their bed flashed in his mind. Kjotve's two companions grabbed their own sword hilts. But Kjotve laughed.

"I may have brushed her hand when she gave me a horn of mead. But otherwise, I've been a behaved guest. Let's come to the point, Hardar. I am here because I think we can help each other."

Hardar's gut tightened and he raised his chin. "Meaning that you can use me before turning on me. You've come for my treasure, haven't you?"

Again Kjotve laughed, a bark from the deep of his throat. "You trust no one. That is good! Trust should be as rare as gold and just as seldom given. Aye, you are useful to me. You are the greatest jarl in these lands, yes?"

Hardar peered at him, holding his words. Kjotve continued, his smile fading.

"But you are troubled by another. You have a rival."

Hardar scratched his beard. "You seem to know much about me, too much for my liking."

"I know a great deal. I will share something with you now. Your rival owes me a debt. Your rival is an oath-breaker and a coward. Your rival is a man I wish to destroy. Do we have a common interest, Jarl Hardar Hammerhand?"

Hardar's eyes grew wider with each word. His mouth nearly watered at the possibilities he imagined with Kjotve's help. "If you are speaking of Ulfrik Ormsson, then we share that interest."

"Let us stand down our men and return to your hall. We have much to discuss." Kjotve's smile furrowed lines into his cheeks. Hardar found himself matching that smile. He scanned the ranks of Kjotve's warriors, and saw how Ulfrik would die.

Hardar shoved Ingrid aside, "For the last time, I did all that could be done. An attack would've been disaster."

He peeked out of his room into the main hall. Kjotve and his warriors appeared content to drink his mead. The smoky hall glowed orange with the blazing hearth, sparked to life so Hardar could host a feast to welcome his guests. His own men had to wait outside, so full was the hall with Kjotve's crews. A thin man stood on the table, recounting a tale that drew raucous laughter from his audience.

"I don't care about disaster," Ingrid said with a sob. "My little girl is gone, and you didn't save her."

"Gods woman, she fled by her own free will. She's happier there. I just hope she won't hike her skirt for that ass-dropping she ran off with. Vermund expects a virgin."

The slap did not hurt as much as it surprised Hardar. He turned into it, about to push Ingrid back into their room. Stunned, he put a hand to his cheek while she cursed him. "How can you know? Why would she be happier away from her family?"

"I know because she told me. Now don't worry for her. Ulfrik thinks he can scare me, calling her a hostage. He'd never harm her, especially with his brother-in-law besotted with her. She's safe. Now hide yourself and sit on your hands. If you raise them to me again, I'll break your fingers."

He didn't bother with her reaction, instead striding to Kjotve's side at the high table. Immediately he stiffened in anger. Kjotve was lounging in his chair, one leg thrown over the armrest. "I see you've found a comfortable chair for yourself."

Kjotve clapped and laughed as the man on the table bowed in a circle with an exaggerated flourish. He didn't look at Hardar as he replied. "Aye, it's a fine bit of work. Just the right size, too. I think I'll keep it."

Hardar began to protest, but Kjotve chuckled. "Look at you. I joke, Jarl Hardar. I'm sitting in your chair, yes? Then I return it to you. I thought you'd be longer with your woman. I know how time at sea can make a man eager for his woman."

"Er, yes, sure," Hardar scratched his head while Kjotve stood up. The size of the man still amazed Hardar, who was himself taller than most. "But let us both sit on benches tonight. I'm eager for your news, Jarl Kjotve."

They moved to benches and Hardar's slave attended. For a while they spoke of trifles, Hardar trying to get the measure of his guest. Soon he no longer doubted Kjotve was who he claimed to be. Despite being dispossessed of his land, Kjotve called himself a sea-king. He traveled the world in search of plunder, making landfall wherever he desired. Hardar thought it sounded like a horrible existence, but Kjotve seemed pleased enough. "I'm fresh from the Orkneyjar, had a narrow escape from Hrolf the Ganger. If you marvel at my height, he dwarfs me. But long legs mean nothing on a slow ship, eh Jarl Hardar?"

Soon they were at their meal and talk lulled. Kjotve ate like a starved man and was picking fish bones out of his mouth before Hardar was halfway done. He renewed their conversation, a greasy finger probed his back teeth and marred his speech. "So you are satisfied with my tale? Now we speak of how we benefit each other."

Hardar drained his mug, then wiped his beard with the back of his hand. "It's all I've been waiting for."

The men below were drunk, and their arguing and shouting reverberated through the hall. The thin man remounted the table and started bawling out a tuneless song. Both Hardar and Kjotve watched him as they spoke.

"I picked up trading ships returning from these lands," Kjotve said as he watched the thin man struggle with his balance. "They were wise enough to pay a king tribute on his own estate. Since the traders were generous, I let them go. But they carried much gold for traders plying islands I thought harbored only poor sheep herders. How wrong I have been these years. They mentioned you as the wealthiest in the islands, but they spoke of a new power: Ulfrik. I got what news I needed from them. Seems like you've been talking up your fears of Ulfrik conquering these islands."

Kjotve turned to him with a grin. Hardar's mouth dropped open. He hadn't realized he had been so open with traders. "Why else build up so much military strength? He's totally out of line, acting like he's some sort of high king. Giving out gifts and parading his warriors, it's ridiculous."

Kjotve's smile deepened. "But your warriors are no match for his, and you know it."

"Nonsense! He has stolen my daughter, and I sailed to his land to show him my power. He has a lot to think about now."

"And where is your daughter? Did you leave her on your ship?" Kjotve leaned back and smirked. Hardar felt his face grow hot, and turned back to the thin man singing and spinning on the table. Men laughed or threw scraps and bones at him. Kjotve paused dramatically before continuing.

"Ulfrik has stolen your daughter and yet all your men did not convince him to release her. Let's be honest, his men scare you because they are warriors. Your men, I saw their faces. They are farmers who row your ships and carry spears for you. What you need are warriors, and I bring warriors."

Kjotve's hand swept over the heads of his men. Hardar looked at them anew. They were well geared and battle-scarred. "My men are not as bad as you say. But they are outnumbered and out-geared. I have been gulled into thinking my neighbor was peaceful all these years."

Kjotve gave a gusty laugh. "No neighbor is at peace for long. I have learned that lesson with my blood and the blood of my kin." Kjotve's laughter tore away and he leaned so close to Hardar that he flinched. "I want Ulfrik. He was sworn to me, and fled when his oath still bound him. He could've made the difference. He could've saved my kingdom. I sheltered him when he had nothing! Now he has lands and gold and your daughter. What shall we do about this?"

"Hang his head on a pole and let birds eat it."

"Yes! I have a hundred men and six ships. Together, we would crush him and divide the spoils!"

Hardar was about to leap off the bench and shout agreement. But looking into Kjotve's eyes, he saw they darted and shifted. Something was wrong, and the doubt calmed him. "You have enough men to ruin him yourself. Why invite me to this?"

"You are the ruler of these islands. If I attack from nowhere, for no reason, you understand, then you might unite the others against me. I only want to shatter Ulfrik and take from him what is owed."

"I am not the ruler of these islands," Hardar said, though he sat up straighter at hearing the idea. "But what you say is true. Now that I know your intent, I wonder why divide the spoils with me?"

"Fair is fair, Jarl Hardar," Kjotve's eyes widened and his brows furrowed. "Besides, I know Ulfrik and I know his men. He trains them, disciplines them, and gets them experience. He served me only a short time, but his instincts for leading men in battle impressed me. I will not underestimate him, and neither should you."

Hardar nodded, but Kjotve still left him vexed. Hardar understood men like Kjotve, and greed was their motivating force. Kjotve would seize everything after battle and leave him with nothing. Hardar wanted a better guarantee of fairness than a raider's word. "I won't underestimate him. I agree with you, Jarl Kjotve. But I am not the only one with an interest in Ulfrik. He has stolen my daughter, who is promised to another jarl. Honor would dictate that he participate in the attack as well, if only to save his betrothed from that evil bastard."

Kjotve leaned back and stroked his beard. His eyes darted about as he thought, making Hardar uneasy. "So the spoils would be split three ways. I have a large crew and I doubt Ulfrik hordes enough gold to make it worth my time. Revenge is fine for me, but my men need more."

"It would be an insult to leave my friend out of this. I cannot have it another way." Hardar leaned both arms on the table and glanced at the guests. The thin man had finally been pulled down and someone dumped a horn of mead over his head, causing an explosion of laughter.

"I will discuss it with my crew, but you and your friend will need me no matter what. My only condition, and you must agree to this, is that Ulfrik be given to me. He must face justice from my hands and no other. What do you say, Jarl Hardar?"

Hardar did not hesitate. Ulfrik was a match for both him and Vermund. "It is a fair start. Let's drink to the fall of Ulfrik and Nye Grenner."

CHAPTER TEN

Ulfrik stood before every man in Nye Grenner. They assembled in the thick grass, murmuring in low voices. Concern was written in the creases of the men's faces, and vibrated in the timbre of their voices. Women and children either waited in the hall or remained at their homes. Ulfrik thought of Runa, and how she had quivered to restrain tears at hearing the news. He wished he could be with her, but his first duty fell to the people under his protection.

The sun hung fat and low in the sky, turning the high clouds pink. It would not vanish for several more hours despite the late hour. A balmy breeze shuffled the grass. In the distance, white dots of a sheep herd crossed the green slopes. Ulfrik held his arms tightly behind his back until the murmurs died, then cleared his throat.

"You all know why I've had to call this meeting. But I wanted you to hear the news from me. Halla Hardarsdottir fled to my lands, seeking protection from a man she fears. I cannot say if her fears are true. But she came to us of her own will, and Toki has offered her shelter. Now Hardar claims she has been kidnapped and demands her return. I would have been glad to do this, but he also demanded Toki's life. He refused a payment of silver instead. So now he has fled and vowed to return with allies. We are at war."

Men spoke all at once. Snorri and Toki sat at the front, and both turned to the crowd to ask their silence. Ulfrik let the initial reactions subside before he continued.

"War is all Hardar wants, and so he shall have it. Each of my hirdmen are worth three of his. He counts on allies and numbers to crush us. He is wrong. We will send his men to the feasting hall, seize his flocks and wealth, and put an end to his threat."

Men clapped or shouted in agreement, but not all did. The young and warlike seemed eager to find glory in the shield wall. But the older men, the family men, frowned or blinked silently. One voice shouted louder than the others. "You gamble all our lives for one man. Who wants war if not you?"

Ulfrik started at the accusation, and the rush of voices dropped. He recognized the man, an old farmer, and realized he had two sons in the hird. The pulse in Ulfrik's neck throbbed, even though he had expected such a rebuttal. "I know it seems an unfair trade. But if it were your life, would you feel the same? Toki did not commit the crime Hardar claims. He does not deserve death."

Toki hung his head and picked at the grass. Ulfrik felt an awkward mix of sympathy for his guilt and satisfaction at his suffering. His rash action had cost Ulfrik his peace. The crowd returned to grumbling, a few voices calling out in support and others demanding to reconsider. Ulfrik's patience flagged.

"Hardar has no right to demand any of our lives without better proof than his own stories. Where does it stop if I surrender Toki? Will he then demand another life for another imagined crime? Law must rule or we will have chaos."

"Where is his daughter now? If you return her, his rage might cool, but never if you keep her."

Ulfrik paused, knowing there was truth in the claim. He glanced again at Toki, who continued to hang his head. "She is my hostage now. Hardar will not dare much with his own daughter's life at stake."

"She is Toki's lover," shouted a voice from the back rows. "You keep her for his pleasure!"

Men stood and the uproar echoed over the field. Toki leapt up and spun to curse the anonymous accuser. Ulfrik paced from one end of the crowd to the other, waving men down and begging for calm. He wished he had something to bang or a horn to blast. But he could do no more than yell over the confused voices until he prevailed.