"That I will, lad." He faced Ulfrik and the two embraced. "No one will harm your boys, I swear it." Ulfrik nodded and started to leave, when Snorri grabbed his arm. "But you do one thing for me. Let Einar remain with you. I can't show him anything more, and he should earn his place with you. Will you do this?"
He bit back protest, then reconsidered. "He has great promise. All right, Einar will remain with me, if he agrees."
Everyone satisfied, they drifted away to their own tasks. Ulfrik began considering the men to augment the Nye Grenner force, but each thought summoned Hrolf's face. Once Ulfrik's plan reached him, Hrolf would be in his rights to name Ulfrik an oath-breaker. If he did, Ulfrik was glad his closest companions would not see his shame, or his execution.
Ulfrik pulled his cloak tighter as he strode the final distance across the wet grass. The newly constructed longhouses on the northern bank were clustered into a tight camp, haphazardly arranged with a poor eye for defense. Though drier than the ruined abbey, Ulfrik considered the camp more vulnerable. Men crisscrossed the spaces between buildings on various errands. Voices joking or cursing mingled with the singing of birds in the trees. Smoke fluttered from holes in the ceilings as evening sucked light from the sky and poured chill into the air. Hrolf's red and yellow dragon standard flew from his banner pole outside his temporary hall. He sighed and approached the two guards posted at the doors.
One smiled sheepishly as he opened the door, while the other relieved Ulfrik of his swords and throwing axes. "Jarl Hrolf is waiting. Good luck, Jarl Ulfrik."
This was Ulfrik's first visit to Hrolf's new hall. Stepping inside, the scent of fresh-cut wood, smoke, and stale beer assailed his nostrils. The hearth blazed orange heat, and two Frankish girls tended it with billows and iron pokers. Hrolf sat in a huge chair he had constructed to hold his giant body. He leaned to one side in it, head supported by his hand glistening with gold rings. No one but the girls remained in the hall, making the space seem enormous though it was not much larger than the hall constructed for Ulfrik.
"Attend me." His deep voice echoed in the emptied hall.
Yet another sigh, then Ulfrik approached Hrolf and went on one knee before him. The gesture pained him, for never had he nor his father before him taken a knee to another man. Fate had chosen otherwise for him, but he still bridled against servitude. "At your service, Jarl Hrolf."
"At my service? Get off your knee and look at me."
Hrolf had not shifted his position, his face resting slack in his hand as if enduring a dull performance. For his own part, Ulfrik feigned earnestness while containing his frustration and worry. He searched Hrolf's eyes for a clue to his success, but the jarl remained inscrutable.
"I've cleared the hall of everyone but two slaves. Normally I'd fill it with as many people as I could find. Do you know why I wanted privacy?"
"That we may speak freely," Ulfrik guessed, and the frown from Hrolf informed him of his error.
"To contain your shame, you fool! You know why I summoned you?"
"Because I sent three ships of men back to Nye Grenner without your leave."
"Because you sent them at the worst possible moment!" Hrolf snapped forward on his chair, hand slapping the armrest. "You must have known Sigfrid had already quit the fight. Allowing your men to run home makes it seem you've no faith in my success."
"Sigfrid took his payment and left after I had dispatched my men."
Hrolf flopped back in his chair, crossing his arms with a scowl. Sigfrid had grown so tired of inaction that he had opened negotiations with the Franks and took sixty pounds of silver as payment to leave the fight.
"That is a detail not worth debating," Hrolf said. "Sigfrid is all bluster, but no edge to his sword. We're better off without him and his cowardly followers. I will take Paris alone, and the spoils will be all mine. You were supposed to aid me in this, remember?"
"And every day all I think of is how to breach the walls." Ulfrik inclined his head, hoping to hide the anger rippling into his temper. When Hrolf did not answer, he peered out from under his brow. Hrolf's stony eyes searched him, a sneer twitching to break free on his face.
"My command was to deliver all your men to serve me until dismissed. You broke an oath to me when you sent your men home. Why?"
"I am at war with my neighbors, and in summer they will be certain to attack. Our homes and families must be defended."
"And the men you sent who have no connection to your home?" Hrolf's eyes glittered and the sneer finally escaped. "You have bled away strength I need here, and also signaled that you've no faith in victory."
"Had I no faith, I would have left with my men." Ulfrik stood straight, and held Hrolf's eyes, a sneer of his own threatening to erupt. "I did what I must for the welfare of my people. I cannot ask men to risk their lives here when their homes are in danger."
Hrolf shot up from his chair, roaring in anger. Ulfrik staggered back as the huge man lumbered forward. "Gods, man! You can't be a conqueror if you are going to fret over what Fate has decided for your families back home. You've come this far, but your heart has been left by your hearth. I've no use for a man who can't commit to the task given him."
A fire lit in Ulfrik's belly as Hrolf's rebuke stoked his frustration. "We were to be home by summer, and so I promised my men. My word is my life, and so I sent them home. And so, too, I remain with you. I am committed to the task. I broke through the bridge, if you'll recall."
"A storm did that." Hrolf dismissed the claim, and began pacing with his hands behind his back.
Stunned, Ulfrik fell silent. As he had feared, all the risk he had taken to create a breakthrough remained credited to Fate.
Hrolf took measured steps, as if pacing off a boundary, looking at the ground in silence. Ulfrik's gaze followed him, and he stilled his tongue for fear of worsening the rebuke he knew would come. At last Hrolf paused and turned to him.
"I understand you sent your banner home, and have a new one. A red rag that belonged to the noble you owned as a slave. What does that mean?"
"That I will skin that traitorous bastard alive. He killed an old friend and a good man, and led us …" Ulfrik bit off the end of his sentence, not wanting to confirm for Hrolf his true doubts about capturing Paris.
"He led you where? Is there more than I know? What are you not telling me?"
"I mean he misled us to believe he was a lowly priest. Had he been honest, I could have ransomed him."
Hrolf gave an apprising smile, as if he had just learned a trader was selling him a nag for a stallion. "As you say, Ulfrik. For now, know that I have been merciful to you. For your defiance I could have called for your death."
"That would be rash, Jarl Hrolf." Ulfrik's gaze did not waver. "You would jeopardize the loyalty of the other men. And I would not lie down to die so easily."
"Ah, a threat!" Hrolf smiled, then chuckled. His stance relaxed and he returned to his chair. "Of course you are right on both counts. The gods have sent you to protect me, after all. So I am inclined to be generous and indulgent with you. Atop all of this, you are a strong war leader. So don't put me in the position of having to punish you."
Ulfrik suddenly felt childish and brash, and his face grew hot with his shame. "Never again, Jarl Hrolf. I swear it."
"Good, now return to your men." Ulfrik bowed and began to leave. Halfway across the hall, Hrolf called his name again. "But do not think this has passed without effect. You have tested my trust, and now I must think carefully about your future with me."
Without looking back, Ulfrik inclined his head then strode out of the hall into the cold twilight.