Shield of Lies Read online

  "Surrender your weapons to us," the lead rider said, breaking his long silence. "Then go inside. He awaits you in his tent."

  The small campsite held about twenty warriors, but only the five had horses. One horse was tethered to a tree near Clovis's tent, which must have been his personal mount. The men in the campsite did nothing more than talk in small groups, leaning on spears or sitting on the ground. As the riders delivered Throst to Clovis's tent, they paused and watched but offered no sign of worry. The guard at the entrance to the tent stopped them as Olaf tried to enter with his knife at Hakon's back.

  "It's surety for our captive," Throst explained. "If you seek to grab him, we will make him useless to all."

  "No weapons," the Frank said, and Throst doubted he had understood anything he had said.

  "You have my word that I will not take the boy without paying a fair price." The tent flap opened and the man beyond could only be Clovis. "Give up your weapons and speak with me, Throst Shield-Biter. We've much to discuss."

  "As you say." Throst inclined his head and noted how Clovis's dark eyes narrowed on Hakon as the boy passed beneath him. Inside the tent, Clovis set himself on a stool. He wore no armor, but carried a sword at his side. His clothes were rich and clean, his shirt as white as snow and his pants a vibrant green. His clean-shaved face hinted at a heavy beard where whiskers darkened his firm chin.

  "And so this is Ulfrik's boy?" He crossed a leg over his knee and leaned forward. "I won't even ask for proof, since I see that swine in the boy's face."

  "My father is not swine!" Hakon's sudden protest drew a delighted laugh from Clovis, but Olaf slapped the back of Hakon's head to silence him.

  "He has his father's temper as well," Throst added. "As well as his foolishness."

  Clovis's expression darkened and he appeared to drift into memory of something offensive, for his lip curled and his nose wrinkled. "So why do you ransom him to me, rather than Ulfrik? He would pay you far more."

  "Then you will be surprised to know the great Lord Ulfrik did not place much value upon his son's life. He refused to pay my demands, and so I have come to you instead."

  "This one is not his firstborn," Clovis said, sitting back on his stool. He looked up at Throst, one thin eyebrow cocked. "If Ulfrik finds no value in this one, why would I want him? So let's waste no more time with this child. I merely wanted to see him, to be sure you had truly done all you had claimed. I admire how you've managed to snatch his son from his hall."

  "Your admiration flatters me, Lord," Throst said with a broad smile. "And I have hopes that we might work together, to benefit both of us."

  "Work together?" Both of Clovis's brows rose. "Work together? You are a Northman, and though I speak your horrid language do not mistake that for love your kind. I just want to be able to understand when you people are begging for your lives under my sword. There will be no working together."

  The cold returned to Throst's stomach and he felt Olaf's eyes on him from behind. Clovis wore an expression of singular distaste and physically leaned back as if the thought of cooperation was something that might touch him with filthy hands. Yet Throst did not let the show dissuade him, but pressed his point.

  "Then at least we can benefit each other. I can provide the son you really desire, and you would be willing to pay for his capture. Of that I am certain."

  "And you are right," Clovis replied, again his eyes narrowing at the thought. "Do you know why? Last summer, Ulfrik maimed my eldest son in battle. He humiliated him, battering him to the ground, and rather than do the honorable thing and kill him, he struck off his sword hand at the wrist. Now my son will never lead men in battle, never be a whole man. It's bad enough Ulfrik and his kind have wrested away lands my family has possessed for generations, now he has to take away the future as well. I will deliver the same to him, and so I have sworn. Once I would've been satisfied to kill him and be done, but now I want to destroy his future first, just as he has for me."

  The hateful words filled the tent, and a gust of wind rippled the walls. Outside men murmured and some laughed, contrasting with the rage inside the tent. Clovis's eyes burned with anger, and Throst smiled as if in sympathy, but now he knew Clovis could be controlled. His hatred would rule him and make him pliant. Throst only need to manipulate it to get what he desired.

  "A more horrible tale I've never heard," Throst said, glancing at Hakon and Olaf. "But I can aid you in seeing justice done. If the small one here is of no interest, then allow me to deliver his eldest to you."

  "How will you get inside? I would pay you to show me the way into his fortress. I can make you a rich man, so long as you are true."

  "I will make my target come out, for the way inside is now barred to me, at least for a short while." Clovis's eager expression fell flat, but Throst continued. "But that is not important to securing Gunnar. I will have him in your hands within a few weeks, as long as the price is reasonable."

  "What is reasonable to you?"

  "Sixty pounds of silver."

  "You are mad. Ask again, and know it is your last chance. I'm beginning to feel foolish for coming out here to treat with you."

  "Then thirty pounds of silver is half as much, but yet I will still deliver Gunnar in two weeks."

  Clovis stared at him, and for a moment it was like looking into the eyes of a wolf that stalked from the forest underbrush. His lip curled again, and his words were low and rough. "Fine. If you truly bring his eldest son, it will be worth it to me. Hang on to this boy, for if you can bring me both then I will have all I need against Ulfrik."

  "Why not take him now, Lord?"

  "Because I don't want the trouble, especially if you can't deliver the eldest son. You can be worried about feeding this one and keeping him alive."

  Throst inclined his head again. "As you say. But there is one thing I will need, and that is something to show my men. They must believe there is gain for them, for this plan is not without danger. A small token is all I ask, and know it will go towards taking your revenge upon your hated foe."

  Clovis stood, seemingly on the edge of rage, but then he exhaled a long, defeated breath. He fished out a necklace of silver from which a silver cross dangled. He held it before Throst, who raised cupped hands to receive it. "This is proof enough, and more than you should've taken for doing nothing more than make promises. But if this keeps your men's hearts in the fight, so be it."

  Throst clasped his hands around the silver cross still warm from hugging Clovis's chest. "This is generous of you, Lord. You will not regret it."

  "You will regret it!" Hakon shouted. "My father will kill both of you. You'll never capture Gunnar!"

  Olaf slapped Hakon's head again, and when he began to struggle, Olaf dragged him to the ground and gagged him with a cloth.

  "I look forward to what you can do for me," Clovis said after the commotion had ceased. "Ulfrik and his kind need to be humbled."

  "I couldn't agree more," Throst said, and smiled at Hakon as he lay flattened and heaving on the ground.

  Chapter 25

  After a sodden trek home and a bleak walk through Ravndal's mournful roads, Ulfrik clambered into his hall, shoulders slouched, hair matted flat to his forehead, eyes couched in purple-ringed bags, and collapsed into his seat at the far end of the hall. A serving girl delivered a hot draught of apple water sweetened with honey into his waiting hands, and he savored the flavor as well as the steam on his face. Runa and Gunnar returned shortly behind him, with Aren clinging to Runa's skirt, and each took a mug of the hot apple water as they joined Ulfrik at the high table.

  "No sign of Throst or Hakon," Runa's question fell as a flat statement of fact as she sat beside him. She had aged a decade in the days since Hakon's kidnapping. She had failed to care for herself, with her hair becoming lank and tangled and her face smudged. She slept in her clothing, giving her the wrinkled appearance of a rag used up and tossed into a corner. Gunnar, pulling a bench for himself, appeared far better than either of
them, though he seldom smiled or spoke since the kidnapping. Only Aren remained unchanged, silently observing with his weirdly intelligent eyes. His tiny hands barely fit about his mug as he studied the steam rising from it.

  "Throst will show soon enough. He will want more silver for Hakon's release and he can't get it if he remains hidden."

  "And you will pay him what he asks?" Runa's question was laced with anger, for she had learned of Ulfrik's previous negotiations.

  "Anything he asks I will give." Ulfrik tiredly swept the hall before him with his hand. "I'll give him my hall if he demands it. For it will make no difference. Whatever he takes I will retrieve when I chase that fool down to the miserable death he has earned."

  The family sat in silence for long moments, sipping on their drinks and awaiting the servants to cook a proper meal. Snorri and Toki entered and joined Ulfrik at the table. Their flat expressions and slow approach testified to their weariness. The quiet deepened as everyone reflected upon the failure to locate Hakon.

  Ulfrik finished his mug and placed it on the floor beside his chair, then leaned forward on his knees. "I have been thinking of how Throst managed this trick. He needed help to get inside. I have a feeling that man might still be here."

  He scanned the group and expectant eyes turned to his. Only Aren remained uninterested, a child among adults with nothing to do but keep still. "How valuable would a spy be to him?"

  "Lad, that much is obvious," Snorri said. "But do you know for certain the traitor is still among us?"

  "I am not certain," Ulfrik said. "But he has evaded a thorough search, and that leads me to wonder if someone is signaling him. How else could he have eluded me?"

  "They are but a few men," Toki said. "We've doubled back often enough to tramp over signs of their passing. It's not unbelievable that he has hid from us."

  "True, but my heart tells me Throst has a man among us. All of us must be careful of what we say and where it is said. I don't know who this man is, but I will root him out by his beard and have his head on a spear."

  "He might not have a beard," Runa said carelessly, staring ahead as if too tired to even meet anyone's eyes.

  Ulfrik turned to her, twisting his lips and furrowing his brow. "Do you think the traitor is a boy? Who do you say it is?"

  "Halla."

  Ulfrik felt his belly flood with fire and he instantly snapped his eyes to Toki, who leaned back with confusion plain on his face. The old feud between the Runa and Halla was bound to erupt, but Ulfrik could think of no worse time than now.

  "Wife, that's a heavy accusation to make."

  "And a stupid one, at that," Toki added, recovering from his shock. "She has pledged herself to peace and forgiveness. You cannot insult my wife's honor without more proof."

  Runa's eyes finally moved and she remained level despite Toki's instant rise in anger. "But I do have proof. While you were all gone, she came to this hall to insult me and vomit out her hatred for my family. She told me she hated life here, that she'd rather cut open her own belly than live here another day."

  Toki began shaking his head and rose to his feet. "We discussed this journey at great length. She agreed to come here, to be closer to where her god is."

  "You have been deceived," Runa said, her eyes again listlessly falling upon no one. "She hates me and my children, and by some means only the gods know she has helped Throst work his mischief. She gloated in it when she spoke to me."

  "You are mad, sister. Throst was gone before we ever arrived here," Toki shouted, and Ulfrik rose to calm him. All the others stood, leaving Runa sitting wearily beneath them.

  "Peace, Toki," Ulfrik said, as he patted his shoulder. "Runa's heart is as weary as mine, and her words are ill chosen for it."

  "My words are what they are," she said, her voice rising. "I struck her in the face and banished her from my hall. She fled in shame, but not before cursing me and delighting in Hakon's misfortune. Now where is she? Plotting more evil?"

  "You struck her?" Ulfrik rounded on Runa, his face pulled into a frown. She shrugged at him and sipped again from her mug. The gesture reminded him of Aren whenever he was asked a question he disdained. His young son was alone among everyone without a frown, simply watching with wide eyes.

  "And will you banish me next?" Toki asked, throwing his hands in the air. "We came here expecting a place in your hall as kinsmen, and this insult is what you hand us?"

  "You know this is not how I feel," Ulfrik said quietly, ushering Toki away from the group, but Toki tore his arm free.

  "I'm beginning to wonder if you would have ever called me from Nye Grenner," Toki said, glaring at Ulfrik. "I think it best I find my family now."

  Watching Toki stride from the hall, Ulfrik felt a tremor building in his arms. He whirled on Runa, who sat cool and still with a tired expression of indifference. Snorri examined his feet while Gunnar flushed red in confused embarrassment. The whole scene drew Ulfrik's rage to the surface.

  "All of you, out of my sight." No one moved, shocked to suddenly receive his anger. "Go!"

  Gunnar snapped to his command and swept from the hall, while Runa rolled her eyes at him before collecting Aren and heading to their room. Snorri, slowed by his age and old wounds, began to hobble past but Ulfrik stopped him with an outstretched hand. As the others faded away, he released Snorri's arm and sighed wearily.

  "Lad, those women are going to be at each other's throats until the end of days," Snorri said in his age-ragged voice. "You and Toki must rise above it if you're going to keep peace and friendship."

  "Was I wrong to let Toki go?" Ulfrik asked. He rarely doubted himself, but since Hakon's disappearance his confidence had been broken. He no longer knew if he was helping or harming a situation.

  "No," Snorri said. "Toki is right to be angry. Let him wrestle with his anger for a bit, and I'll try to talk sense into him if I can. He will understand in time; he always does."

  Ulfrik nodded, then rubbed his temples. "This is one more battle I can do without. Right now, someone in my ranks is not true and I must find who he is. I must rescue Hakon, and not be distracted with petty arguments."

  "The arguments aren't petty," Snorri corrected. "But they are ill timed. Fight this battle another day, lad, and let's bring the little master home. I'll do my part in finding Hakon. I may no longer be any good on the battlefield, but I can still fight with my wits."

  Both men chuckled, and the feel of it refreshed Ulfrik. He allowed Snorri to leave with a whispered thanks, then sat on his chair and brooded upon where Throst's man was hiding.

  Chapter 26

  Runa sat beside Ulfrik at the high table, presiding over a subdued feast to thank the hirdmen for their efforts in the search for Hakon. The hall swam with men and servants, and the scents of ale and simmering beef in the cooking pots flowed around them. Oil lamps and brands drove shadows into the corners and gleamed in the wide eyes of the feasting men. She had sat through too many feasts to count, but this one was the strangest of all. Not for any difference in the men—for whenever they gathered around a fire with food and drink then songs and spats would ensue—but for Runa's distinct feeling of betrayal. Somewhere her young boy suffered in cold fear, in conditions she dreaded to imagine. Yet she sat with her face warm and belly full, idling in a smoky room of high spirits.

  Despite his wrathful display earlier, Ulfrik spoke in upbeat if subdued tones with Einar and Snorri across the scraps of bone and bread left on their plates. They poured each other ale from a clay jug and chatted of inconsequential matters. Toki and Halla had even attended and her brother's easy smile returned, though something stiffened his posture and she knew he was on edge. She was thankful he had sense enough to sit at the far end of his table and concern himself more with his daughters than anyone else. She would have to apologize to him soon, and ask forgiveness, but her opinion would not change. She did not anticipate the conversation, but owed her brother more than what she had given him.

  Others visited the table, to
offer support to her and Ulfrik and vow that Hakon would be recovered and Throst brought to justice. Some men seemed genuine while others simply sought favor in Ulfrik's eyes. Runa cared not for their motivations, only that they commit to saving her son. Einar's wife, Bera, watched her like one of her own daughters and Runa smiled when their eyes met. She realized she had not looked the part of a jarl's wife since Hakon was taken, and had overindulged in excuses.

  "Do you feel well?" Ulfrik asked her, long after the meal had finished when men leaned on each other and forgot the lyrics of their songs in raucous laughter. "You look pale."

  Touching the base of her neck, Runa sat up straighter. "I feel fine. Do I look ill?"

  "Maybe, or just tired," Ulfrik said as he placed his warm hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Why not go sleep? And take Aren, too. He is up late."

  "Since when do you have a bedtime for our children?" Runa raised a brow at Ulfrik, who had never minded the details of the children's care. "He is awake and sitting quietly with me. We will retire when we're ready."

  Ulfrik's smile faded and both Einar and Snorri found something else to look at. "You should rest, and take Aren with you. He needs his sleep."

  His insistence only increased her opposition, and she looked down on Aren who sat wedged to her hip. He shook his head and Runa smiled. "In a while we will sleep, but I prefer to remain here for now. And if you are so concerned with your children, then look to your eldest. Where has Gunnar gone is a better question."

  A twisted smile appeared on his face, and he scanned the room. "He's probably trying to make us grandparents."

  "Well, that's a poor choice while his brother is held captive. You ought to talk to him about propriety and duty."