Everyone, including Snorri, agreed. Ulfrik rose and unclasped his silver armband, holding the dully gleaming ring over the table. "Everyone place your hands upon this ring." Hands reached in and touched the ring. Ulfrik turned to Toki, who gave a sheepish smile. He had once broken an oath sworn on this ring, but Ulfrik trusted the gods had punished him for that sin. "You swear to reveal our plan to no one, and to do your part in this undertaking in return for a fair share of the spoils. Each man so sworn is bound to me and to the gods to keep his oath under pain of banishment."
Each man in turn gave his oath, including Snorri whose skepticism Ulfrik appreciated. Few men dared counter a jarl's words, and those who did so with good intentions were more valuable than any treasure. He acknowledged each man's oath with a nod, and paid special attention to Thrand the Looker, who gave his oath with a snarl but also without hesitation. Satisfied, he withdrew the ring and replaced it on his arm.
"The specifics of the plan will have to be made in the field, where we can observe the situation. While I'd like the rest of the crew to share in this, for the sake of preserving secrecy, they must not know. I will find a way for them to benefit as well. Now, we've made our decisions and our oaths. I'll give Gunther the news."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"And if I disagree, it means nothing to you?"
Runa plunged the bucket into the barrel, avoiding Ulfrik's eyes. Her lips and limbs trembled, and hauling the filled bucket of water from the rain barrels behind the hall consumed more strength than usual. Precious fresh water, collected from daily showers, sloshed and spilled to the grass. The earthy scent of rain still hung in the air and cold wetness seeped through her hide shoes. She stared at the half-filled bucket, listening to those damned foreigners chatter and laugh in the distance.
"Humbert should be fetching water for you." She heard the waver in his voice, and anger flared.
"Like I haven't done this for years before that cursed man turned up? And you'll be taking him away to chase your treasures."
He shushed her, eyes wide and searching for eavesdroppers. The urgency further maddened her, and she slapped down his fluttering hands. "Not to worry, since you'll not find anything for your troubles. You wouldn't know the lie if it was rammed down your throat."
A frown creased his face and he opened his mouth, but Runa turned up her chin in defiance. He was wrong, and Runa was convinced both understood it. He lowered his head, then rubbed his face. "Even if you think the treasure a lie, can you not shout about it? Just the talk of treasure could cause me troubles."
"I'll agree to that. The talk has already caused troubles, it seems to me." She folded her arms, self-conscious of her trembling. Again she was being left behind to run a household and guard their children. Again, her husband was leaving her surrounded by enemies.
"Put aside the treasure." Ulfrik smiled, the thin smile he relied on to calm her and signal acquiescence. "I gave my oath to Hrolf years ago, and I cannot break it."
"Oaths are broken all the time. Be realistic."
"Mine are not. Be reasonable."
He glared at her, and the two remained locked. She searched his eyes, a strangeness creeping over her as she did. His determination and pride was not unusual, but something fluttered behind his eyes-belief and hope.
"All right, I will be reasonable." She broke their stare, turning aside to fix on the purple shadows of mountains lost in rain-bloated clouds. "But you know what I meant, and don't pretend otherwise. No games with me."
"No games," he said with surprising gentleness. She still looked away, but his warm hand gripped her shoulder. "If I was willing to remain trapped on these lands forever, I could decline. Gunther gave me that choice."
"Then why not decline?" Her head snapped back to him, and her lip trembled harder and her eyes grew hot. She hated this weakness. Was not every other wife suffering the loss of her man as well? Did they all weep and beg like she did?
"The gods have given me this chance. Ander cast the rune sticks, and the gods say Humbert is true. We are destined for more than life on a treeless rock at the edge of the world." His grip pressed into her flesh and his speech quickened. "Fighting beside Hrolf will win fame and glory for me and all our men. Claiming Humbert's treasure will gain us wealth. All good in life comes from those three things. The Fates have put their eyes upon Frankia, and I need to be there. Great things will happen, I know it."
She smiled, not from humor but from her husband's pitiful understanding of what motivated her. He stood smiling, his eyes bright with excitement. More laughter of the foreign men tumbled out of the distance, distracting her thoughts with anger at their intrusion. If only she could roll them back into the trackless ocean, none of this fruitless conversation would happen. She placed her hand over Ulfrik's at her shoulder, the warm roughness emphasizing the chill in hers. She intertwined her fingers with his, drawing them to her lips to kiss, scenting the saltiness of them. He was lost to her, she knew, but she was compelled to dissuade him.
"I know you want to benefit our family, but do all good things in life come from gold and glory? Did Gunnar and Hakon come from it? Did I? Did gold and glory keep our daughter alive in winter? All I want is a peaceful life and a happy family. There is glory in that, too."
"A woman's glory," he said, pulling his hand away. He barely concealed the curl of his lip. "A man is called to carve his will on the world, and to entertain the gods with the spectacle of his bravery. Hiding under my bed while an army sails to battle and spoils is the worst shame I can bring on our family and people."
Runa closed her eyes, neck pulsing as she bridled her response. Once composed, she spoke with labored evenness. "So who will protect us when you are gone? How many men will remain while you sail to battle and spoils?"
Eyes still closed, she waited on his answer. Nothing but distant laughter and rush of wind-stirred grass met her ears. Her eyes opened, and Ulfrik was peering into the distance, his lips tight and closed.
"You are leaving me with no one?" She abandoned any effort to restrain herself. A cold line of tears ran over her cheeks. "All winter I must cower in fear with the women and old men, begging the gods to wreck our enemies' ships. This is how you care for your family and home!"
"Everyone must go." He remained fixed on the distance, his voice rough. "To leave my trusted men behind would shame them. To leave the new, untested men behind is as much a risk as leaving you with my enemies. Shame and idleness would provoke them to evil."
"So take us with you!" As soon as the words escaped, she regretted them. This argument had become stale even to her. "No, instead you stay. You stay and take the responsibility for protecting all your people, not just the honor of some men. You selfish bastard!"
Her fist shot out for his face, and he jerked aside moments before it connected. Yet her training had built her agility and speed, and her other fist landed in his gut. Her knuckles collided with the hard muscle, but her wrist bent and the power drained from the punch. Ulfrik exhaled with a grunt, then grasped her arm and yanked her close. She tipped the bucket over, and the water rushed uselessly into the ground. Her sobbing erupted like the toppled bucket, and she collapsed against the scratchy softness of his wool cloak.
He spoke to her and stroked her hair, but the words made no sense. Again she would be defenseless and alone, and enemies would encircle her. Nye Grenner would look to her for strength where she had little, and protection where she could offer even less. Nothing could change this. Fate, the Three Norns, had woven their threads and created the pattern of her life.