Ulfrik accepted them into his hands like they were delicate pottery. Still warm from Hrolf's arm, he fitted one to each of his biceps as his friends watched. Emotions long held back gurgled up inside. The wealth he desired, the glory, the honor he brought to his family and men were to be found here in Frankia. Even without Humbert's gold, this adventure would allow him to provide a better life for all his people. Lost in his thoughts, he did not hear Hrolf's first words.
"Are you listening? I said that I name you Hersir. When we are finished here, you will hold part of my lands and the jarls there will be sworn to you."
"Hersir?" Ulfrik's face warmed at his inarticulate response. Fortunately, Hrolf roared laughter and slapped him on the shoulder.
"It's much to absorb, and there are details to work out. But for now you have one important duty, and that is to be at my side in battle. Remain with me at all times."
"As you say, lord." He spoke the promise even as he understood Nye Grenner was now finished. The people would follow him, and benefit from his future wealth and power. However, his simple acceptance of Hrolf's terms had shattered his independence.
"There are many men without lords after yesterday. I will be sending some to you. You will lead these men in battle today, and those who survive can choose to serve you or find a different lord. In any case, there is much to do yet. I will summon you before the assault so we can discuss strategy." Hrolf gathered his bodyguard and strode off toward the men gathering around Sigfrid's standard flying in the distance. Ulfrik watched him go.
"Congratulations," Gunther patted Ulfrik's shoulder, though his voice was flat and expression dull. "I told you joining us was the right thing for you. Fate is at work."
Ulfrik nodded, then met Gunther's eye in surprise. He understood now that the two of them were of equal rank, or at least much closer. Gunther had shamed himself for fleeing, and now he suffered Hrolf's scorn. He wondered if Hrolf's generosity was not inspired by a desire to humble Gunther. Being a tool, even in a roundabout way, sullied the exhilaration Ulfrik experienced at his change in fortunes.
As Gunther turned away, Snorri and Einar surrounded him, both speaking in a rush of praise. Mord, however, first tried to speak to his father, but was shoved away. He lingered a moment before joining the others.
"How does it feel, lad?" Snorri asked, his eyes creased from his smile. "Lands and title are as good as gold, even better."
"I don't know what to think." Ulfrik laughed, a foreign nervousness suffusing him. "Everything is changed now."
"Soon the world will know your name," Einar said.
"My father was right to praise you," Mord added.
Ulfrik stepped back, touching his head. "This has been a strange morning. I need time to consider things."
Snorri laughed. "All right. But don't think I'm going to call you 'sword of the gods.'"
Ulfrik left them laughing among themselves. Falling into the crowds of people hustling to prepare for the next attack, he let his mind drift. Bouncing through the groups, he could not concentrate. Eventually he wandered toward the trees. In his youth the forests provided a place for him to think as well as play. Deprived of that luxury in the barren Faereyar Islands, he looked forward to a short walk beneath the bare branches. He had to make sense of the changed landscape, and what it meant for his future.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Don't do that where everyone can see!" Thrand hissed through clenched teeth. "For the love of the gods, I can't believe you slit their throats!"
Kolbyr and Thrand strolled among the frenetic crowds running along the banks of the Seine. They leaned together so their words were kept from others, though no one had any concern for them. A second attack on the tower was planned and everyone had a task assigned, but Thrand and Kolbyr had slipped theirs.
"Well I couldn't throttle them, and smashing their skulls would be obvious." Thrand looked aside from Kolbyr's angered retort, and smiled at a sour-faced man carrying sheaves of arrows under his arms who passed close to them.
Wiping his face in frustration, he halted and grabbed Kolbyr's cloak. "And slitting their throats was not obvious?"
"Course not. Just a quick jab and cut." Again Kolbyr demonstrated how he had slit the throats of Ulfrik's men as they lay dazed after their ladder had crashed.
"I just told you not to do that!" Thrand slapped Kolbyr's hands down.
"You're drunk again," he said, pulling out of Thrand's grip. "Plenty of cutting went on yesterday. Who's to know what I did from me slicing the air?" He slashed the air with his phantom knife in front of Thrand's face.
Batting the hand away, he snapped back. "Any fool can tell a throat pierced with an arrow from one slit with a knife. Did you think of that? I stuck arrows into their necks, which is more reasonable."
"And all of Ulfrik's favorites getting an arrow in the neck isn't obvious either?" Kolbyr stopped again and frowned. "You are drunk. Your breath is half beer and half fog. You're getting worried, Thrand, and that worries me. No one could tell what happened in that mess other than who lived or died. Neither Ulfrik nor anyone else suspected us. We reduced our worries yesterday, not increased them."
Thrand searched Kolbyr's hard face. His clear eyes showed no fear, no concern that his undisguised murder would reveal their treachery. People swarmed around them, shouting and shoving, but they faced each other like two rocks in a swift flowing river. Deciding that Kolbyr could not be swayed, he refocused on the goal. Tugging Kolbyr's cloak, he asked him to follow as he set out toward the woods.
"Listen carefully and decide now if you're with me on this. A second attack is planned this afternoon. Even if our side wins, I think we stand a good chance of dying. I can't get rich if I'm dead." A large man shoved between them, nearly bowling him over. With a curse, he continued to move through the crowds for the trees. "So there's a change in plans. We take Humbert now, and force him to guide us through his secret paths to the treasure."
"And your plan for dealing with Ulfrik? I doubt he is willing to stand aside. Maybe we should wait until the attack begins, then slip back here to get the slave."
Shaking his head, Thrand grunted. "We'd stand out like two cowards, and everyone would see us. Besides, I've got something better planned."
Exiting the crowd and now only a spear-throw from the woods, he stopped and leaned in to Kolbyr. "While I was out this morning, I spotted Ulfrik headed into these woods. Alone."
He let the words hang, waiting until realization glittered in Kolbyr's eyes. "But there are only two of us."
"You distract him and I will put my sword through his liver. He trusts us and won't expect a thing. Alone in the woods, with all this noise to cover us, the timing is perfect. In fact, you might say the gods have given us this chance."
Kolbyr's face darkened and he stroked his beard. A fire kindled in Thrand's guts, but he clamped his mouth shut against the angry words. Kolbyr had to help him, as Thrand knew he could not overcome Ulfrik alone.
"He is a great warrior. I've seen him fight three men at once."
"Three enemies. We are two of his friends and he won't be prepared. Think on it. He dies in the woods and when he doesn't show for battle men will search for him. During that time we escape with Humbert and before anyone realizes, we're gone from their reach. I told you at the beginning we might have to kill Ulfrik to ensure we get the treasure."