Shield of Lies (12 page)

Runa smiled at the pet name, but shook her head at Ulfrik's explanation. It made no sense for Hakon to hide days after the event, especially when he had not done so before. Folding her hands in her lap, she peered over the heads of the dinner guests and through the milky smoke curling above them and watched the door for Hakon.

In time, Einar and Snorri returned. She read their faces and even at this distance she knew they had not found Hakon and were worried. Her hand grabbed Ulfrik's knee beneath the table, digging in her fingers both to grab his attention and control her fear. The two pushed their way to the table, and now all the men of the high table watched their approach. Runa noted Halla's gaze and the faintest of smiles upon her lips.
That pale bitch
, she thought,
takes pleasure in this and yet eats from my table. Toki, why have you remained with her so long?

"It's true," Einar said as he drew between Ulfrik and Runa. "Hakon is nowhere to be found."

Snorri staggered up later, his limp delaying him. "Lad, there's not a star in the night sky. Can't see nothing without a good number of torches."

"Why do you need to see him?" Runa asked, her voice trembling. "He should answer your calls, right? You don't think he's hiding from us?"

"Maybe he's had an accident and can't answer," Ulfrik said, gently placing his hand atop hers gripping his knee. The warm and rough touch was a mild comfort, but she needed anything offered.

"We can't sit here." Runa pulled her hand free and stood. "We've got to keep looking for him."

"That we will," Ulfrik said softly. Then he stood and drew the dagger at his hip, flipping the blade around so the pommel protruded from his fist. He rapped the table and shouted until the hall silenced and all eyes turned to him. He regarded them as if surveying his warriors before a battle, then sheathed the dagger as he addressed them in his commanding voice.

"My son, Hakon, is missing. No doubt he's up to boy's mischief, but it is unusual he be gone so late. Has anyone seen him today?"

A few answered, providing no more information than Gunnar had already given. Runa stared at her oldest son, whose face had turned ashen as he listened. Her breath grew hot and she wanted to slap Gunnar's face for letting his brother slip away.

"All right, everyone will search until he is found. He may be hiding, or he may be hurt." Ulfrik began pointing to hirdmen. "Form groups and check every corner. You men take brands from the hearth and light the paths. The first one to find him, return here and sound one note on the alarm horn."

Excited patter engulfed the hall, and Runa heard a few men wager on where Hakon was likely to be found. When one named the bottom of the well as a likely spot, an ember dropped into her gut. She grabbed Ulfrik's arm, "I will search with you."

The two left with the crowd into the night, and it was as dark as Snorri had promised. Gunnar accompanied them, and showed the last spot he had seen his brother. Aren toddled along, holding a string tied to Runa's belt. After a while, she felt that string pull tight and whirled on Aren. "What do you want? We are looking for your brother."

"Atli likes horses," he said, his child's voice unnaturally calm. "Let's see Atli and his horses."

She and Ulfrik had been trudging off where Gunnar had pointed them, but the logic of Aren's words highlighted her stupidity. She felt her own face grow hot with embarrassment. Ulfrik, having overheard, dropped his head and slowly turned to face Runa.

"Corrected by a child," he said, a bemused smile on his face. "We should grab Atli and have done with this. They're probably asleep in the stables. Let's go."

Runa scooped up Aren in her relief, kissing him on his cold, smooth cheek. She followed Ulfrik who stomped off shaking his head and cursing himself. "We're always too ready to believe the worst. The boys probably just tired themselves out and here I'm going to look like a fool for my worry. Gods, I'm supposed to get wiser as I age."

Ulfrik's angry monologue did not bother Runa, now that she knew Hakon would be fine. Gunnar even cheered and raced ahead to the stables. Once there, they only found Atli's sister, who could not speak and had only the wits of a young girl. Instantly Runa's fears rekindled, and in the next moment, standing outside the stables in the chill, animal-rank air, Gunnar's scream shattered her nerves.

"Gods, Atli's dead!"

The small, lifeless body was shoved into the corner behind a nearby building. The head was turned nearly to the back, and the skin looked black under the wavering torchlight Gunnar held over it. Were it not for Atli's wide, blank eyes she would not be able to tell it was a face staring up at her.

Ulfrik dragged the body out, frisking it for other wounds. As he did, Runa covered Aren's eyes and averted her own. She squeezed her son, suppressing an urge to scream or cry. Something horrible had happened, and Hakon was in danger.

"Hakon killed him?" Gunnar asked, leaning over his father's shoulder.

"No, the bruise on Atli's neck is from a hand too large to be Hakon's. Look at it."

Runa did not follow, but closed her eyes and bit her lip. Aren struggled to be let down and free her hand from his face. Then he stilled as three sharp notes of a horn sounded in the distance.

"The western gate," Ulfrik said as if he had spoken words of dark magic.

In moments they were running with others who flocked toward the gate. Once there, Einar stood with his torch held overhead, a brilliant ball of yellow light illuminating the scene. His face was grim.

"The gate was unbarred."

"Atli is dead." Ulfrik's words drew a rush of gasps from the gathered men. "Hakon is in danger. I fear we all are."

Chapter 17

Ulfrik led his men in combing the surrounding lands for any sign of Hakon, but had found nothing. The longest day in recent memory had passed followed by a second evening of restless gulps of sleep. Runa had joined the search as well, and suffered the same curse of sleeplessness. In the morning, the two regarded each other as haggard ghosts and wordlessly began their morning rituals.

For Ulfrik, nothing could be worse than having his son snatched from the bosom of his fortress. One of his own men, the fool who Einar had beaten, was missing and likely the culprit. The next time Einar wanted to beat a man to death, he would not deter him. All of the hall was a quiet pantomime of what a normal morning would be. People moved through their chores as if in a dream, each person carrying the fear of having been struck by enemies where they expected safety. They hunched over their bowls, eating and gathering strength for another day of searching. No more sounds were heard than bowls clacking on wood tables or benches dragging on the earthen floor.

Runa did not attend her women as usual, but sat with both Aren and Gunnar. She stared ahead, her hand idly touching the knife she hid beneath her skirt. Toki joined her, and with great relief Halla and her daughters sought their places away from her. However, Halla offered Ulfrik what she considered solace as she passed him. "I will pray to Jesus that your son be returned safely."

He nodded thanks, but something in the glitter of her eyes reminded him of the spiteful flare he remembered of her father. No doubt, she prayed to Jesus for other things that likely had little benefit to him and his family. He left her to clutching the wooden cross she boldly hung from her neck and murmuring her prayers or curses in the corner.

The hall doors burst open, and Einar rushed in with Konal trailing. One of the women screamed from the unexpected shock, but Ulfrik was already on his feet.

"Men who claim to have kidnapped Hakon have proclaimed themselves," Einar shouted as he strode through the hall. "They've come close to the gates, but out of bow range. Konal went to speak with them."

Everyone stood and made way for Konal to deliver his news. He scanned all of them, his scarred face bright with sweat. "There are four men, though one is big enough to be counted twice. Their leader claims to have snatched Hakon from under the eaves of your hall and is keeping him hostage in a safe place. He gave me these as proof of his claim."

Konal's gloved hand extended toward Ulfrik, and everyone at the high table strained to see it. The object was a tarnished silver cloak pin that Ulfrik had bestowed on all his children, and a lock of Hakon's fine yellow hair was wound in it. The tie came apart in Ulfrik's hand and the strands of his son's hair tumbled across his palm. He folded his hand over the pin and closed his eyes.

"What is the name of this fool so desirous of a miserable death?"

"He called himself Throst Gudmundarson."

Ulfrik stood straighter, not recognizing the name until he exchanged glances with Snorri who had also joined to see Konal's proof. In that moment, he recognized regret and resentment in his old friend's eyes, and remembered his advice to kill all of Gudmund's family. The son had returned to take revenge for what he deemed his father's unjust death.

"You know this man?" Konal asked as he stepped back. "He is young still, not more than two seasons older than your first son. He demands you meet him to hear terms for Hakon's release."

"Throst is a boy, the get of a murdering father and shiftless mother. He will not live to manhood, I promise you this." Ulfrik handed the pin to Runa, who took it absently.

"Don't do anything rash," she said. "Hakon is in danger."

"I know what to do," he said, far more calmly than he felt. "I will see to it Hakon is released unharmed."

He scanned the faces of his loved ones: Runa, Gunnar, Aren, Snorri, Toki, and Einar all stared back at him with taut, grim expressions. No one doubted he would save Hakon and send Throst's soul screaming into the frigid mist realms of Nifleheim. He did not doubt it himself. From this moment, his will would be bent to nothing more.

"Take me to him," he said with a curled lip. "I'll have Hakon returned by nightfall."

Chapter 18

Ulfrik closed the distance to where Throst and three men waited for him. They stood at the foot of the hill, ragged figures in ill-maintained mail and tattered hides and furs. Throst stood out, standing at the fore of his henchmen with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. His clear face was now smudged and dirty, but his malefic pale eyes remained bright. He stood as if he had overrun a great army and now rested his foot upon its warchief's head. In fact, he had his foot atop the stump of a small tree and his three men seemed incapable of overrunning a mug of mead without difficulty. Only one was of any account, a giant man whose frizzy hair and beard circled his head like an explosion of brown fire.

"Where's my son?" he demanded as he drew within spear's length. He unhitched his sword in its sheath and tugged it loose for a quick draw.

Throst did not move, but his eyes ranged farther up the hill. Ulfrik had taken twenty hirdmen, all archers, and spread them in a semicircle. If Throst made one threatening move, he and his henchmen would be riddled with arrows.

"If I don't return by midday, my men have instructions to hang Hakon until he pisses himself. Control your archers or your boy dies today, Lord Ulfrik." Throst spit the title out of his mouth like gristle.

"You've got men?" Ulfrik snorted and sneered at the three arrayed behind Throst. "Are these dogs examples of your men? You, the giant one, you take orders from this boy? Is it because he sucks your prick?"

The giant man erupted with a stream of curses and drew his sword. Throst's cool demeanor shattered and he scrambled to keep his man from attacking. The other two joined only after he cursed their inaction. The three of them dug their feet into the dirt and slid back against the bluster of the giant man. Ulfrik did not bother to draw his sword, but continued to tease.

"So you have taken the boy for a lover! No wonder you hide in the woods with him. Do you share him with the others?"

The man's unimaginative cursing streamed past Ulfrik. Beyond enjoying a simple teasing, he wanted to understand how much control Throst exerted over his men. Judging from the time it took to calm the giant and the reluctance of the other two to assist, Ulfrik surmised Throst's hold tenuous at best. He kept that thought for possible use against him.

After settling his henchmen, Throst whirled on Ulfrik. "Your wit is a dull as your vigilance. Your son's life is in my hands, or don't you understand?"

Ulfrik stared hard at Throst before answering. "I understand."

"Then listen well and I'll return your son. I'll take sixty pounds of silver in exchange for Hakon's life."

Even Throst's henchmen flinched at the outlandish demand. Ulfrik marshaled his expression but felt the burn of anger from the pit of his gut to the back of his throat.

"You don't even know how much silver that is, do you, boy?" Ulfrik spit on the ground before Throst's feet.

"It's what Odo paid Sigfrid to leave Paris, so it sounds like a good sum to me," Throst said, smiling.

"Odo is king of the Western Franks and has the wealth of Frankia at hand, and he was ransoming his whole city to Sigfrid, not one boy."

"I don't care how much it is, but I've just named the ransom for your son. If you can't pay, I'm certainly not planning to feed your brat all winter." Throst's smile faded and he folded his arms. "So your son's life has a price higher than it's worth to you? I'd not have guessed that from the mighty and just Lord Ulfrik of Ravndal."

"I don't have such riches," Ulfrik said through gritted teeth. In truth he could pay the ransom. However, now that he stood before Throst and saw the foolish boy and his equally stupid friends, he no longer believed Hakon was in serious danger. Throst wanted to extract revenge along with as much ransom as he could obtain. Killing Hakon would gain him nothing and end his life; for Ulfrik would have him cut down the moment he appeared from hiding. So in the end, Throst would accept whatever Ulfrik chose to give him and then flee.

"Such a shame that your son will die today, since you are not as wealthy as everyone believes." Throst shrugged as if he had just lost a friendly debate. "I suppose I'll just go back and strangle the little goat fucker until his eyes pop out. I'll leave his body someplace you can find it, like hanging from a tree or impaled on a spear."