"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.
The gathered crowd parted as two brawny men in mail coats shoved people aside with their shields. Striding between them was Sigfrid, his bleached hair unmoving in the breeze and his face streaked with soot. His eyes bored into Ulfrik's as he approached. The group joined Hrolf, and onlookers backed away a respectable distance.
Sigfrid searched Ulfrik up and down, as if waiting for a sign of obeisance. Ulfrik snorted then swallowed. Until you break my knees I won't kneel, so stop staring, you fool, he thought, and a smile trembled at his lips.
"I have you to thank for today's victory," Sigfrid said, more questioning than stating.
"I suggested cutting the water supply, lord." Ulfrik at last offered a slight nod, careful not to overtly insult the greatest jarl in their army.
Grunting and nodding back, Sigfrid glanced at Ulfrik's new armband. "What's your name again?"
Ulfrik answered, and Sigfrid, mouth closed and pulled down, twisted off a ring from his left hand.
"Good work." He tossed the ring, and it plunked into Ulfrik's hands. It was a plain band of gold, flattened at the bottom from years or wear. The metal was warm and smooth.
"I am honored, Lord Sigfrid." Now he bowed and again onlookers clapped. Then he displayed his prize to the crowd as if it were a more generous reward than it was.
"I don't like waiting," Sigfrid said. Ulfrik simply bowed a second time, restraining the urge to reply. If he had chanced words, they would have been mocking. With a curt nod to Hrolf, Sigfrid and his two bodyguards twisted away and marched back into the crowds.
Ulfrik squeezed the ring in his hand, and watched him shove against the flow of men heading for their ships.
"Enough royal visitors for one day, eh?" Hrolf tapped Ulfrik's hand, and he held it open to show Sigfrid's ring. Hrolf rolled it between two fingers. "Better than what he awards most people, believe it or not." He replaced the ring in Ulfrik's palm. "But Paris is close, and greater riches await us. If the Franks are foolish enough to fight, I want you close in my battle line. Your advice would be welcomed."
Hrolf winked then left to find his own ship. Gunther followed, but paused to squeeze Ulfrik's shoulder. "You already have a name with the great jarls. Didn't I say you would do well here?"
"That you did, One-Eye."
Ulfrik stepped back to Raven's Talon, more of his crew gathering before it and reviewing each other's loot. Einar and Ander went through each other's bags, while Thrand and Kolbyr taunted Humbert with a wooden crucifix held over his head. Others were tossing their bags onto the deck.
"How does fame sit with you now?" Snorri asked as he joined him. Ulfrik glanced back at the castle in time to see the roof of the highest tower collapse with a spray of sparks.
"It has come too early, considering all we need to do."
Snorri gave him a knowing look. "Do you really still believe the slave? His jabbering has stopped since we arrived here, like he's afraid of something. Being found a liar, maybe."
Ulfrik wiped his face with his hand, dirt and soot rubbing off. He observed Humbert holding himself aloof from Thrand's crude teasing. "He is probably waiting for his chance to run, or maybe he's surprised at making it this far."
"I don't think you're going to find what he promised."
Thrand began hitting Humbert's head with the cross, and he remained unflinching. Ulfrik waited for him to buckle, but he merely gathered beneath his mud-spattered red cloak. After a while, he called off Thrand. "That's enough. Get him aboard and keep him in one piece. You heard me!"
Sulking like a child, Thrand stopped and flung the cross on the ground, stamping it into the mud. Ulfrik waited in silence until all of his ships were prepared to shove back into the Seine. Just as Snorri began to leave, he grabbed his friend's arm. "Ander read the rune sticks, and saw the truth in Humbert's tale. The more I watch Humbert, the more I believe he spoke honestly. I think he fears revealing the treasure to us."
"You've grown into your father's stubbornness."
"That'd be a compliment."
"Not always." Snorri continued on his way, and Ulfrik fell in behind. Paris lay ahead, and within its walls lay riches and destiny.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Flames roared and roof timbers collapsed in a pile before Runa. The fresh air tore the blaze upward in an explosion of bright heat. Tears flooded her eyes and smoke choked her. Barely discernible in the fire and swirling ash were the murdered bodies of women, old men, and children. Their blood flowed like an orange and black stream.