Banners of the Northmen (11 page)

"This summer I offered the Frankish Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Charles the Fat, terms for his safety. Seven hundred pounds of silver would satisfy me enough to leave him alone. But the fool refused, and now he will pay. We'll have that silver, plus whatever we can carry away. We'll remind the Franks why they should fear us. We sail at dawn!"

Sigfrid threw his arms overhead again and roared, soliciting his audience to join him. Many were drunk and many were impatient, and so shouts followed. However, Ulfrik frowned and hollered to Toki over the din.

"What is this? We're going to remind the Franks? He makes it sound like an errand."

"Not much of a speaker," Toki agreed.

Sigfrid shouted a while longer, promised death to any Frank standing in his way, then abruptly returned to his tent. Confusion rippled through the crowd, which did not appear to understand the gathering had finished. At last, Hrolf mounted the wagon and dismissed everyone.

"How many women do you think wait for him in that tent?" Snorri asked as they turned to leave.

The tight clusters of bodies slowed their return to camp. Weary and hungry, he anticipated a meal and sleep. As the crowd broke apart, they moved faster until they found Nye Grenner's standard again. As his crew settled onto the grass, Gunther One-Eye reappeared.

"I've got a favor to ask of you," he said without preamble. He rested his heavy hands on the shoulders of a young man dressed in mail and draped with a wolf pelt. He hefted a bag, which he let drop, and carried a new shield of iron-rimmed wood that was painted red and gold. A short, blond beard hid his face well enough for his age and his features looked nothing like Gunther's. However, his mannerisms and expressions were drawn directly from him.

"I did not know you had a son," Ulfrik replied, gambling that he was correct. Gunther patted the man's shoulder and pushed him forward.

"My name is Mord Guntherson." He glanced at his father, who kept his eyes on Ulfrik while his hands pushed his son down. Mord dropped to his knee and bowed his head. "I would be honored if you allowed me to serve under you."

Ulfrik blinked at Mord, not comprehending. Snorri, Toki, Einar, Ander, and several others who stood nearby paused and watched with guarded expressions.

"I want him to learn from you," Gunther explained. "Keep him close, and teach him how to lead men in battle. If I had him with me, I'd always be worried. That'll just get us both killed. What do you say?"

Blinking again, he regarded Mord kneeling in the grass. Teaching Gunther's son was not a difficulty, but keeping him close would imperil his plans for Humbert's treasure. However, to refuse would not only be groundless, but would also ruin an important relationship. Worries and arguments passed through his mind, until Mord raised a quizzical eye to him while still kneeling.

"Sorry, but of course I would be gladdened to have Mord join my crew." Gunther's skeptical expression melted to a smile. Ulfrik raised Mord to his feet. "Be welcomed and find a place for your pack."

Mord flashed his father's carefree smile and thanked him.

"You'll not worry for him in the shield wall," Gunther said. "I've trained him and drilled him. He knows what he's doing."

"I'll keep him close, but I can't guarantee any man's life in battle."

"Understood, and I won't hold you to it."

Ulfrik watched father and son hug each other in parting, Gunther thumping him on the head and admonishing him to do well. Yet all Ulfrik could think is somehow Gunther learned about the treasure and planted his son to spy on him. Shaking his head at the stupidity of the thought, he returned to settling into camp and tried to forget his worries.

CHAPTER TEN

Prowling among trees again brought a joy to Ulfrik's heart not experienced since fleeing Norway. Winter had stripped branches bare, and these dueled overhead in the cold breeze. The dead leaves crunched beneath his goatskin boats as he led his scouting party of fifteen men. The Frankish wilderness was colder than promised, and far more wet than expected. Mud seeped into his boots, chilling his toes. However, the clear and earthy scent of the woods summoned fond memories that warmed his spirit. He and his men huddled beneath green and gray wool cloaks, any exposed metal smeared with dirt to prevent reflections. Ulfrik stood at the head of the group, with Einar hulking beside him. Young Einar, whose stepfather Snorri remained at camp with the remainder of the crew, had grown tall and strong. Ulfrik was glad to have his blade in his service.

"Toki has been gone too long," he whispered.

"How long is too long? He takes whatever time needed to find a sign of the enemy. Haven't heard a sound yet, so he's not been discovered nor has he discovered anything."

Einar nodded, and Ulfrik returned to squinting through the sparse trees. A milky haze clung to the wet ground, and patches of slushy snow emphasized the whiteness. Far down the hill, the walled fortress called Pontoise brooded like a block of gray stone streaked with brown. The fortress had halted the progress of Sigfrid's fleet, positioned on the confluence of the Oise and Seine Rivers. Curls of smoke rose over the brown rooftops, giving it a false look of peace and comfort. Arrayed on the opposite side of the fortress were hordes of Danes and a river choked with their ships. The fortress commander had defied Sigfrid's demands to surrender, and now Sigfrid prepared to raze the fortress to rubble and ash.

Hrolf had persuaded Sigfrid to delay the attack, hoping to find another way into or around Pontoise. Ulfrik, as eager as his lord to move on to the real fight at Paris, had volunteered to lead a scouting party. He sought a weakness in the fortress or a portage to avoid it completely. A siege of an unimportant castle delayed his ultimate goal of a quick success in Paris and a return home before spring. He was unwilling to dally, and if needed would push all of the 30,000 men Sigfrid claimed he commanded to Paris.

Something flitted between trees, and Ulfrik instinctively dropped to a crouch. He heard the crunch and creak of mail and leather as the men behind him did the same. He grasped his sword hilt, cold and rough in his hand, but did not draw it. He held his breath so the fog of it would not give him away.

Toki's dark, curly hair identified him as he strode the last distance to their position. Ulfrik relaxed as Toki arrived, and Mord loped behind him. Toki smiled, rushing to Ulfrik and whispering excitedly.

"We've found something! Come and see."

Ulfrik's pulse quickened and he could not help smiling as well. "Is it another way in?"

"Yes, but it's easier to explain if I show you. There's no one about, but men watch from the walls. Be careful."

They followed Toki and Mord, Ulfrik and his scouting party clinging to whatever cover was at hand. The slope dropped precipitously and slowed their advance. One man fell in the mud to the hisses of his companions, and Ulfrik glanced at the fortress as if it might rise from its foundations and attack them. Yet it remained quaint and at rest, though as he neared he spotted pennants on the towers and black dots of men on the ramparts. He had to remain undetected for fear of either being killed outright or taken as a captive and tortured for information.

Toki led them to a large stream, then turned toward the fortress until they came to the edge of the sparse woods. Clinging behind trees, he motioned Ulfrik to him. "Follow the stream down, it flows into their fortress. Can you see the grate where it enters the wall?"

Ulfrik squinted, his vision blurry at the distance, but could see where the stream disappeared beneath the walls. "Their water source!"

"Exactly, the weakest part of their walls. The only trouble is leading a force to attack from back here. I don't know how we'd get around without facing their arrows and worse."

"And that's why we're all fortunate you're not leading this army." Ulfrik rapped Toki's head with his knuckles. "We don't attack. This stream is not so wide nor so deep that it can't be blocked. Gods know the Franks can't get to the Seine. Cut off the water, and their gates will open in a few days."

Ulfrik flushed with the excitement of finding the defenders' weakness. He had never seen anything so large and so seemingly permanent as a stone fort, and the prospect of attacking it was madness to him. Now those high stone walls meant nothing.

"By Odin's eye, you're right!" Toki rubbed his head where Ulfrik hit him. He pointed at Einar. "Get some men to begin filling this stream ..."

"No one do anything," Ulfrik countered. "First, we can't do it ourselves. Second, unless it's done quickly the defenders will sally out to stop us. So we return to Hrolf, explain what we found, then lead a strong group back to do the job. We don't need all of our men to guard the blockage we'll create, just enough to deter the defenders. We can get ten ships' worth of men back here without trouble."

Satisfied with the plan, Ulfrik scouted the terrain farther up the stream. He found a large tree-fall that would make a good start to blocking the stream. As long as they worked far back in the woods, the defenders would not know the threat until too late. Rubbing his cold hands together both for warmth and in anticipation, he ordered his men to return to camp.

"For a wet stone fortress, it burns fiercely." Ulfrik spoke to no one in particular, though crowds of cheering Danes crowded around him on the marshy shore of the Seine. Yellow fire splashed toward the winter gray skies, and the sounds of collapsing roofs and crumbling buildings rumbled like distant thunder. The scent of burning wood filled the air.

"I still can't believe how easy this was." Toki pressed through the cheering group, slapping Ulfrik's back as he joined him. "We carried away everything in three days. Maybe Paris will only take five, and the other cities seven. We could be home before Yule!"

"If the Franks build all their fortresses like this, you may be right." Ulfrik searched the sparsely wooded hills behind the black clouds of smoke. The last of the line of retreating defenders, leading their horses through the trees, paused to watch the roof of the highest tower catch flame, then resumed their trek. He wondered if they traveled to warn Paris, or if they would return to their farms until their lords summoned them again.

As Ulfrik had expected, the blocked stream did its work. Cut off from the Seine and from its alternate water supply, the defenders of the fortress called Pontoise pleaded for terms. They had held out for three days, and each day Hrolf struggled to prevent Sigfrid from attacking. "Waiting is for women," Sigfrid had proclaimed one night when Ulfrik sat with Hrolf and the other leaders. However, Sigfrid stayed his sword and won victory. The defenders negotiated safe passage out of the fortress as long as they took nothing but their horses and weapons. Sigfrid demanded hostages, taking the commander's children as assurance the Franks would not turn on them. It was a practical arrangement, but one that made Ulfrik wince when thinking of his own sons. He might return home and discover Gunnar and Hakon prisoners of one of his enemies, Skard or Thorod.

"Find any spoils in the castle?" Toki's question broke into his thoughts. "Not much left once we got in there, which isn't fair since we came up with the plan. Still, look at this knife. Brand new and forgotten under a bed."

Toki drew a length of the long knife from its tooled leather scabbard. The blade gleamed in the dull sun. Frankish weapons were prized throughout the world for their craftsmanship.

"Actually, I stayed behind with Humbert and Snorri. This isn't what we're here for. It's wasting time." The words came out angrier than intended, and Toki tucked his prize into his belt and moved off. He called behind him. "It's a fine blade. Don't gamble it away."

A shift in wind rolled black smoke toward the Danes and encouraged many to return to their ships. Ulfrik's crew had scattered into the throng seeking spoils in the abandoned fortress. He spied Einar returning with a sack over his shoulder. Others would soon return, and he wanted to be ready to sail. He joined Snorri and Humbert at the shore, both standing by his beached ships.

"Still think we can't take Paris?" Ulfrik teased Humbert, who scowled and looked away. Now that they had arrived in Frankia, Ulfrik ensured Humbert had a guard at all times. Snorri took that duty this day, leaning against the hull of
Raven's Talon
.

"Looks like someone wants you, lad." Snorri did not move, but nodded past Ulfrik.

He turned and Hrolf and Gunther were approaching, both men at least a head taller than anyone surrounding them.

"This is a great day," Hrolf said as he arrived. "A castle sacked and an enemy defeated. The commander surrendered his treasury too! The gods love us!"

"You saved us a lot of trouble," Gunther added, swatting Ulfrik's back with a chuckle. "A little patience worked better than stone-throwers, and probably faster."

"No man can live without water. Victory was guaranteed." Ulfrik drew a deep, satisfied breath. "Now we apply the same leverage to Paris, and taste a sweeter victory."

Both men laughed, and Hrolf worked a silver armband off his bicep. "This is for your service. Take it with my gratitude."

The silver glinted in the light, nicks and scratches reflecting the diffuse light. Ulfrik straightened himself, a smile alighting on his face. "It was not much service, Jarl Hrolf."

"Mord told me how fast you acted on what you found," Gunther said. "You knew what to do, how to do it, and another man might have made a mess of the chance. Because of you, we acted before the Franks could protect their weak spot."

"You've shown you can fight with your head as well as your heart," Hrolf added, proffering the armband. "I need men like that in my command, men who can see far and not just hack off a head in one blow. Wear this arm ring with pride."

Ulfrik took it with both hands, then clasped it around his arm, squeezing it to a snug fit. People nearby clapped or offered congratulations, and he nodded to them. Both Gunther and Hrolf patted his back in congratulations, and Ulfrik's smile widened. How long had it been since anyone had recognized him like this? Pride and accomplishment were sensations he had nearly forgotten, so seldom had he occasion to experience them.