The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) (5 page)

"Without question, this Toke is a man who deserves to die," Ivar continued. "But this is not our fight. Winter approaches, and with it the storm season on the sea. And I cannot see how there is likely to be any profit for my men from continuing with this. I will not ask them to do it."

Hastein said nothing in reply. What was there to say? Ivar was right. It was not his fight, nor was it Bjorn's. In truth, it was not Hastein's, either.

Ivar continued. "In the spring, I plan to sail for Ireland. As well you know, there is much promise there for our people, many rich lands for the taking. Give this matter up, Hastein, and come with me. I have unfinished business there, and I could use your support."

Again Hastein said nothing. Ivar seemed to take his silence as agreement. To my surprise, he turned and spoke next to me. "In Ireland, we could use a warrior like you. Come with us. Come with Hastein and me."

I looked at Hastein, searching his face for a sign. Was Ivar correct? Was Hastein abandoning the hunt for Toke? His expression gave me no answer. He merely raised his eyebrows as he stared back at me, as if he awaited my answer.

Feeling numb, I nodded my head to Ivar, indicating my thanks. "You do me honor. But I swore an oath to avenge my brother's death. I will not dishonor myself or Harald's memory. I have a man I must hunt and kill."

Ivar nodded his head to me in return. "Then good hunting to you, Strongbow. And good fortune." To Hastein he said, "Bjorn and I will ready our ships today and sail on the morrow. Will you be coming?"

Hastein let out a long sigh. "I do not like to leave unfinished what I have begun," he said again. He was silent for a time, then added, "I will not sail with you tomorrow."

"And Ireland? In the spring? Will you join me then?"

"Much could happen between now and the spring. We will see."

After they'd left the longhouse, Hastein pulled me aside. "There are more than just Ivar and Bjorn and their men who do not wish to continue on. It is unfortunate that we did not catch Toke unawares here."

Was Hastein telling me that he, too, would be leaving? "I understand," I said. "It is my fight, and no one else's." Though in truth I did not see how I could carry on, how I could hope to find Toke and defeat him, on my own.

Hastein shook his head. "It is not your fight alone. I have chosen to make it mine, too. I have told you I would help bring Toke to justice for the slayings of Harald and the others, up on the Limfjord. I did not make such a promise lightly, and once made, I will not break it." He sighed and shook his head. "Not if there is a way. But even among my own followers there are many who feel as do Ivar's and Bjorn's men. They have already been long away from their homes and families. And we do not know how long the pursuit of Toke will be, or where it will lead us." He sighed again. "I will speak with Svein and Stig and the men. There are some of the warriors I know I can count on to follow me anywhere. But I will force no man to undertake this journey who does not wish to, and I fear there may be many who will not want to take this road."

*   *   *

While Hastein met with his captains and men, I wandered the grounds of the estate. As I passed the work sheds, Gudrod the Carpenter came out of the one where he kept his tools.

"I have been waiting for a chance to speak with you," he said. "I confess I did not recognize you at first yesterday, even after you removed your helm and spoke to Gunhild." He smiled. "You have changed greatly from the boy—and the thrall—who used to help me here in the carpentry shed."

Gudrod looked much older than I remembered. His head had for many years been bare on top of any hair, but the long fringe hanging to his shoulders around the sides and back, which I recalled being brown, was now almost entirely gray.  Had he aged so much during this one year, or was my memory playing tricks on me? At least seeing
him
brought back memories of my former life here that were not painful. He had always treated me kindly. He'd valued the skill my hands possessed with tools and wood, and by doing so, he had made me feel more than just a piece of Hrorik's property. And most importantly, he had taught me how to make and shoot a bow.

"It is good to see you again," I told him.

"Gudfred has told us—we carlsof the estate—what you told him yesterday. How it was Toke and his men who killed Harald, up on the Limfjord." He shook his head. "I never cared for Toke, even when he was just a boy. He always had a meanness in him. But I would not have guessed he could be so treacherous. And then to come back here, and live among us, Hrorik's and Harald's own men. Gods, but I wish we'd known.

"And some of the jarl's men told us, last night at the feast, about the war in Frankia. So that is where you have been. From what they said, our warriors won a great victory there. They told us about you, also. That you are one of the jarl's chosen warriors now, and a member of the crew of his own longship. They even said you saved the life of Ragnar Logbrod himself during a battle with the Franks." He paused and ran his fingers through the hair hanging from the back of his head.  "I did not realize old Logbrod still lived. And to think that you, Halfdan, who was once a thrall here on this estate, have met him, have fought beside him, and even saved his life. The Norns are weaving a strange and twisted fate for you, that is for certain."

I agreed with Gudrod about that.

"The jarl's men said Ragnar gave you a name—Strongbow—after that battle," Gudrod continued. "Strongbow," he repeated. "It has a good sound."

Just then, Einar came out of the longhouse. Seeing us, he walked over to where Gudrod and I were standing.

"Jarl Hastein is inside," he said, nodding back over his shoulder in the direction from whence he'd come, "talking with all of the warriors who came here with us," It was something I already knew. "He says you and he wish to pursue Toke. He is asking who is willing to join him on the voyage."

"And how goes it?" I asked.

Einar shrugged. "It was a long and hard campaign we fought down in Frankia. I do not know about the jarl's men, but the men of my village all wish to return home. They will not be joining you."

I did not blame them. This was not their fight, and they had been too long away from their homes and families. At least in Frankia, they had won treasure to bring back with them. But as Ivar had said, there was not likely to be any profit won on this voyage.

"I, of course, am coming with you," Einar continued. "You are as true and brave a man as I have ever known, and a fine comrade." He grinned. "Besides, this is my fight, too. Toke and his men killed my kinsman, Ulf."

Einar's words touched my heart. I had never had such a friend in my life. "Thank you," I said.

Gudrod had been watching our exchange in silence. "So you know Halfdan well?" he asked. "I knew him as a boy, but he is much changed since I last saw him."

"Aye, I know him well," Einar answered. "He is a rare killer, to be sure."

Einar's words embarrassed me, and jarred my memory, too. He had called me that the first time we met. Then, it had troubled me. And even in Frankia, the faces of men I had killed had sometimes haunted my dreams, and disturbed my sleep. But now? The dead were dead. The faces of those I had killed no longer visited me when I slept. I did not think myself as particularly "rare"—none of Hastein's warriors were hesitant to kill, if the need arose—but it was certain a killer I had become. The fate the Norns had woven for me had seen to that.

Einar, loquacious as ever, was still talking. "There was one time, down in Frankia, when our army needed to cross a river at night without the Franks realizing we were moving. The Franks had placed sentries to watch us from the forest along the river's banks. Halfdan and I went into the woods alone to clear them, but there was one we could not get close to. He saw us, and tried to flee. It was nighttime, mind you, almost pitch black in the shadows under the trees."

Einar paused and tapped his finger against the center of his forehead. "Halfdan put an arrow right here. One shot, in the dark, and put him down."

I felt embarrassed for certain, now. Gudrod looked impressed, though.

*   *   *

The day was beginning to fade when I finally returned to the longhouse. I'd left Einar and Gudrod hours before, although they'd hardly noticed my leaving. Gudrod had been eager to hear more about the campaign down in Frankia, and Einar was more than happy to oblige a willing listener. I'd walked up the hill to visit the grave mound where the ashes of my mother and Hrorik were buried, and from there had wandered into the forest. These woodlands had been my refuge when I was a boy, and still a thrall. Only here had I felt free. They still felt peaceful to me now. Unlike in Frankia, here I did not have to worry that enemies might be lurking behind every tree. Wandering aimlessly through the trees and sunlit clearings, I lost track of time.

Hastein was seated at the main table when I entered the longhouse. Torvald and the other chieftains were with him. As soon as he saw me, Hastein stood and waved for me to come over.

"I have been looking for you," he told me. "No one knew where you had gone."

"I was walking," I said. "And thinking."

"It is worse than I feared. Many of the men wish to return to their homes. Those who serve on the
Gull
are all my housecarls. If I go, they of course are willing to continue on, although even some of them are less than eager. But most of the rest of my war-band—those who crew Stig's and Svein's ships—live on small farms near my estate, and they want to return to them. Winter is fast approaching, and they do not wish to be away from their farms and families during its long months."

Stig spoke up. "There are some of my men, and a handful of Svein's, who either have no families, or if they do, have little wish to spend the winter with them. They're the sort who enjoy a good fight as much as a warm fire and soft bed. I myself am willing to keep up this hunt, and if Hastein and I go, these men will come with us. But…" he shrugged his shoulders.

Hastein explained. "The problem is that they are too few. On the
Gull
, we are badly under manned. We lost many good men in Frankia. Even with the men from Stig's and Svein's crews who are willing to continue on, we would have only enough to fully man the
Gull
, plus a few extra. Toke is a dangerous man, and it is clear, now, that we will not take him without a fight. If we must fight him, I want the odds to be strongly in our favor. Pursuing Toke with just a single ship, a single crew, is too risky. I do not wish to lose more of my men. Not for this. Not for a fight that is not theirs, and which—as Ivar has said—will bring them no profit. I am grateful to those men who are willing to continue on, and I will not forget that they were. But I will not subject them to unnecessary risk."

My heart sank as I listened to Hastein. So Toke would escape. There was no way I could pursue him alone.

"Would you be willing if you had more men?"

The question had been shouted from the doorway of the longhouse. Gudfred was standing there. Another man, whom I did not immediately recognize, was standing beside him. The two of them strode toward us. More men streamed through the door and followed them.

Gudfred and the other man stopped in front of Hastein. The men following arrayed themselves behind them.

"This is Hroald," Gudfred said, indicating the man at his side. He had brown hair and a beard that were heavily streaked with gray, and he was wearing a tunic and trousers of coarse undyed wool. "He is headman of the village that lies just beyond this estate. These men with him are from the village, too."

"Most of the warriors in our village have sailed with Hrorik before, some many times. He was our godi—our chieftain, and our priest," Hroald said. "These men who are here with me now sailed with him and Harald on their last voyage to England that cost Hrorik his life. Hrorik was a good and brave man, and Harald was, too."

Hroald paused and took a deep breath. Speaking in front of so many great chieftains clearly made him nervous. He swallowed and continued. "Harald's killing, by his own foster brother, was niddingsvaark. It is a fine thing that a mighty chieftain such as yourself—a jarl, a man of power and authority—is willing to right this great wrong. I have seven men here with me. The eight of us are all willing to join you, and help hunt Toke down."

"And all of the housecarls here on the estate wish to join you, too," Gudfred added. "Harald was our leader, and the men who died with him were our comrades. Toke betrayed them, and lied to us, telling us he had slain those who'd murdered Harald. He owes us all a blood debt. If you will accept us, Jarl Hastein, we will help you catch and kill him. It is our duty. We owe it to Harald and those who died with him."

Hastein looked over at me and a smile spread slowly across his face.

"It seems the Norns intend to continue weaving the threads of our fates together," he said. "Well then. The hunt is on."

Unfortunately, it proved to be not as simple as that. Hastein turned to Torvald and immediately began listing what must be done to ready the ships for a quick departure. Torvald scowled as he listened, and Hroald's expression looked increasingly alarmed. He rocked from side to side nervously and cleared his throat several times, as if he wished to speak but was afraid to interrupt. Finally he blurted out, "But there is the matter of the hay."

There was a long silence, while Hastein appeared to be weighing what Hroald had said, and attempting—apparently without success, for a confused frown grew upon his brow—to discern what it meant. Finally he conceded defeat and asked, "The hay?"

Hroald nodded vigorously. "Yes, the hay. For the winter feed, for our cattle. We have cut it, but it is still drying out in the fields. We must finish drying it and bring it in before we can leave with you."

Ivar and Bjorn exchanged incredulous glances and rolled their eyes.

Gudfred chimed in. "Aye, it is so with us, too. We've not even finished cutting all of ours. It must be done before we can leave. We must bring in enough hay to feed the beasts we do not slaughter. Winter is coming, and we cannot know how long we will be away. If the beasts starve, the folk will, too. This must be done."