Islands in the Fog (21 page)

Ulfrik's heart leapt at the shock. He had suspected as much, but to hear his fate uttered aloud hit him as hard as an actual blow. Yet Kjotve's smug face turned his fear to anger, and he experienced a surge of strength. "Justice? Not even a chance to speak on my behalf, nor any other man to support your claims, and you call that justice. You took one too many hits on your fat head if you believe yourself. Don't waste your breath convincing me of justice. You're just a ruined man, pretending to greatness."

Kjotve rolled back on his seat and guffawed. "Now that's the spirit I expected from you. Hope you can build it up, since it will be so much more fun to beat it out of you. Oh, but Fate has been kind to bring us together."

A vision of strangling Kjotve flashed through Ulfrik's mind. His body nearly reacted to the thought. He was an arm's length away, his thick neck lay exposed. Ulfrik's palms itched to clamp around it and squeeze. But no sooner had the beguiling thought arisen than it yielded to reality. Ulfrik knew he would be run through a dozen times before he could harm him. The hateful power drained from his limbs, and Kjotve carried on oblivious.

"I came here to raid, hearing that men lived on these barren rocks who paid traders in gold. When I learned that Ulfrik Ormsson was one of the wealthiest, I knew I had to come. I honestly considered sailing straight to your hall and gutting you right there. But Fate and bad information guided me to your enemy instead. That's where I found how much more fun things could be. These islands are filled with men grown dull from tending sheep. They are led easier than lambs."

Other of Kjotve's crew gathered to hear his bragging. Ulfrik, though wearing a scowl, was also interested to know what Kjotve had plotted.

"While Hardar was away fighting you," Kjotve again stabbed his finger at Ulfrik. "I got his fool wife to tell me everything. There's a lot of fighting men here, as I had guessed with so much gold changing hands. So I realized that your little war would help me whittle down their numbers and aid me in my original purpose in sailing here. And was I wrong? Here you are rowing my ship while half of these islands are without men to defend them!"

Kjotve laughed again, joined by his crew. Ulfrik's eyes drew to slits as he began to understand the real danger that had been growing while he and Hardar feuded.

"So before we head off to Dublin, we're sacking Vermund and Hardar. Thanks to your warring, their lands are wide open. Let no one say Kjotve passes up opportunities to increase his wealth."

Kjotve lumbered to his feet. A swell rocked the ship and he had to grab the rail a moment. Then he laughed along with his crew. Ulfrik sat glowering at him. The shame and fear he had been feeling was now giving way to a fierce anger. He agreed that Fate had brought them together, but not for the justice that Kjotve thought. Fate placed him next to Kjotve so that he might save these lands from the predations of this so-called sea-king.

"Rest, Ulfrik," he said as lightly as if they were old friends. "Once these winds die you'll be at your oar again."

"When ill seed has been sown, so an ill crop will spring from it."

Kjotve paused at Ulfrik's words, turned with a frown on his face. "And so it is with your broken oath. Now still your mouth or I'll bind it too."

Kicking the puddle of seawater at his feet, Ulfrik followed Kjotve as he returned to the prow. A nascent smile formed on his face. He was going to fight and win. Now he understood Fate's purpose for him. "The ill crop is not mine to harvest," he whispered to himself. "But it is yours and Hardar's. So Fate will show you both."

Ulfrik watched the sacking of Hardar's lands unfurl in the same way as Vermund's. Kjotve drove his ships aground and his crew leapt the rails with battle-maddened howls. They streamed inland waving swords and spears, and fell upon anyone they encountered. Ulfrik stood on the shingle, in full view of the carnage. Hardar's hall and surrounding homes were laid out in a large basin surrounded by lush green cliffs. Orange bursts of flames from the buildings snapped at the sky. With Hardar and most of his hirdmen gone to subjugate Nye Grenner, Trongisvagur fell without resistance.

The raid on Vermund's hall had yielded a dozen captives and piles of loot. Sheep were herded aboard one ship; Ulfrik guessed these would be traded within the islands. Sheep fared poorly on open sea. This meant at least one other jarl was aware of Kjotve's plans.

Since now more slaves had to be guarded and sheep corralled on ship, the guards remaining behind herded all the slaves in a single mass. Vermund's people held to themselves, staring at their feet or else looking vacantly ahead. A mother and daughter clung together, their faces smeared with blood and dirt and eyes wide with terror. None made a sound or otherwise indicated they were alive. Kjotve's men had more trouble herding the sheep aboard their ship.

Kjotve had left eight men on guard duty. They were outnumbered two to one, but Ulfrik understood no one had heart to fight. Bound feet made running impossible. So instead he gathered his men, whispering for them to pull closer while the guards watched the spectacle of Hardar's kingdom burning away. A distant roof crashed, sending a flurry of sparks twirling skyward. The guards laughed and hooted. Ulfrik used the moment to speak with his men. Snorri stood beside him; though haggard and tired, his stalwart presence bolstered Ulfrik.

"We don't have much time to speak," he whispered. "Kjotve was a bad turn of luck for us, and my plan needs adjustment. But I am not defeated, even if you see me weaponless and foot-bound."

Some nodded and smiled, a few held their expressions flat. Ulfrik pressed on, watching for the guards to catch him planning.

"Fate has put us with Kjotve for a reason, and that's to rid these lands of him. Look at what he's doing now. If he had more room on his ships, he'd carry away everything in these islands. We're the only ones who can stop him."

He scanned the tight circle of faces and read their doubt. "It seems impossible now; but who better than us? We are trained warriors, not sheep herders. Kjotve has forgotten that in his rush to claim victory and spoils."

"Ulfrik," Snorri said, his voice low and tired. "You're right, but we're also underfed, overworked, and bound at the feet. Once in open sea, what can we do? We can't overtake six ships."

"But we can overtake one, and we have twelve new captives to help. I just need a weapon, anything. We all have oars. The short oars for working the shallows are fine weapons."

"I've never heard of battles being won with oars," Snorri said and laughed. A few other echoed him, and even Ulfrik smiled.

"A skull will break from a hammer or a heavy shaft of wood. I'm just saying we are not without options. Look, I don't have the plan laid out, but it will have to happen when we are gathered like this. Kjotve was canny enough to put us on different ships. So he must fear we could overtake him. We must figure out what he fears and build off that."

The others began to nod, and Ulfrik's spirits buoyed. He did not need them to be screaming mad and ready to run, but just latch to a strand of hope.

"I'm also going to use what chances the gods provide. So I may be acting fast and you will all have to make your best judgments. We want to get our own ship, and have a head start on pursuit. Capturing a ship is something that will come easily. But the gods are with us, even if they seem distant. They want us to work for this, to entertain them with our cunning and bravery. If we can do that, then the gods will reward us with freedom."

Kjotve's guards finally turned and caught them huddled. One called out for them to stop, while others shoved apart their group. Satisfied that nothing strange was transpiring, they turned away again. But Snorri remained close. He leaned into Ulfrik as he spoke.

"Do you really have a plan, or was that just a talk to keep our hopes up?"

"I don't have a plan, but I believe what I said." Ulfrik spoke without looking at Snorri. A guard eyed him, but then resumed watching for Kjotve's return.

Groups of men like swarms of beetles emerged from the ruins of Hardar's lands. Kjotve's men were retuning, carrying their loot and driving their captives ahead of them. Ulfrik and the others silently observed the procession of destroyed lives. Only the young and strong were taken, driven at spear point. Ulfrik imagined the old maimed or dead among the collapsing roofs of Hardar's village. A young man tried to flee. Ulfrik stifled a warning shout. Without a thought, one of Kjotve's marauders speared him as he ran. The young man toppled with a shriek. The first strike had not killed him, and the marauder stabbed him repeatedly until the screaming ceased.

Kjotve led the group, and was in great spirits. Ulfrik could hear his ragged laughter over the wails of women and their children. He had a woman thrown over his shoulder who kicked and screeched, though the giant Kjotve seemed bothered no more than if a fly circled his head.

"Get aboard the ships," ordered one of the guards, emphasizing his command with a flash of his spear. "Make it fast."

Ulfrik turned and shuffled toward the ship. His foot binding had enough slack for a curtailed stride. He hissed a whisper to those nearby. "Try to stick together as much as you can."

Guards grabbed a few of his crew and shoved them toward other ships. But Snorri and most the others boarded Kjotve's ship. The guards' interest lay in learning what they had missed rather than herding captives.

"More slaves, and I'll suppose you will want to save them too," Snorri quipped as they took seats by the starboard oars. He sat directly in front of Ulfrik.

"I will do what I can; these are mostly farmers and their families."

"Whatever you plan, it better work the first time or we're all dead."

Ulfrik grunted, then decided not to think any more on it. "I'll look for the gods to give a sign."

Men clambered aboard, throwing sacks of booty onto the deck or shoving captives aboard. Captives cried for mercy and their captors laughed or roared curses into their faces. Heavy bags of loot thudded as they landed on the decks. Men laughed and bragged. Some groaned at wounds given by others strong enough to fight back. From another ship the stolen sheep bleated in despair. Above it all Kjotve's voice carried as he ordered his crew.

Though he knew his family was safely away, Ulfrik could not help envision Runa and Gunnar as these captives. A short man with red hair dragged a woman up the gangplank and dumped her on the deck. Her son, only a few years older than Ulfrik's, ran crying to her side. The red-haired man kicked the mother aside and he measured out rope for her bindings. Ulfrik swallowed and looked away, his hands and feet growing cold with fear.

He scanned the fjord, trying to block out the sounds of defeat. Out there Runa searched for help to defeat Hardar and win his freedom. He wondered what would happen when they arrived and found nothing but ash.
How would I even find them again
, he worried.
As long as they remain within the Faereyjar I can find them. But I beg you, wife, stay long enough for me to escape
.

"Now you're a spirited bitch!" Kjotve's shout broke his thoughts. He bounded up the gangplank with the kicking woman still on his shoulder. He let her down as lightly as if she were a child. As soon as the woman's feet alighted on the deck, she stood back and slapped Kjotve. But he blocked her with a muscled arm and laughed. "I hope you fuck like you fight!"

The laughter of the crew was dull in Ulfrik's ears. He focused only on the woman: tall, fair-haired, and noble. She was Ingrid, Hardar's wife. She stood straight though her hair flew loose and wild over her face and her fine green dress was spattered with mud and torn at the shoulder. She struck him again, and Kjotve parried with his thick arm.

"You troll! You promised you would find my daughter." Her shouting died beneath the laughter of Kjotve's crew.

"Come now, I'm not all that bad. I've caught the bastard who stole her from you." He pointed at Ulfrik. "That ought to be worth a kiss at least."

Before she could follow his finger, he seized her arm and yanked her to his mouth. She shrieked and finally landed a slap over his eye. But he jammed his face into hers and kissed her as the crew laughed and clapped.

Ulfrik looked away, unable to watch without imagining Runa in the same position.

Once Kjotve had bound Ingrid, he spun her around for his crew to leer and laugh. Ingrid's head dropped and her fight drained. Someone handed Kjotve a skin of mead, and he guzzled from it. Then he shouted for the ships to push off.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Toki's prayers to Thor and all the gods he could name went unanswered. By the second day at sea, he watched the storm forming, everyone did, knowing they were trapped in a landless expanse of water. Though the summer sun would not set until the heart of night, the sky had grown thick with darkness. Sparse rain drops pattered on the deck, driven slantwise by an increasing wind. Each drop felt like a punch to Toki. Without being issued orders, Thrand and Njall unstepped the mast and stowed the sail.

"Einar, speak with me a moment." Toki beckoned him over. "This storm will be fierce. The angle of the wind ..."

"Is bad," Einar finished for him. "We all know it. We have nothing to sacrifice to please the gods, but for ourselves."

Toki put up his hand. "The gods seek their vengeance upon me alone. You and the others will be safe. But let's be sure of it. Tie the women to the rails and Gunnar too. Tie yourselves if there's enough rope left. Better to break an arm than drown."

Einar nodded and started to turn, then paused. "Toki, don't make the gods work easier than it need be."

He laughed, the sound awkward in the tense atmosphere. "I swear to you I will not."

Einar and the others tied off the women and Gunnar. Halla and Dana were pale and trembling. The wind pulled their clothing tight and set their hair dancing. Halla looked at him blankly, in stunned horror. The sea had begun to churn and footing became treacherous. Njall stumbled toward the gunwales, grabbing the rail before falling overboard. Toki's heart pounded and everyone froze, as if to move would condemn him to the sea grave. But Njall landed on the deck.