Hrolf folded his arms, and the Franks continued to murmur. Their white flag withdrew, and Ulfrik along with the others raised shields expecting an ambush. Only Hrolf did not flinch. Soon, Anscharic leaned over the wall again.
"God will have no mercy on you. Leave before you perish in the mud." Anscharic withdrew along with the defenders.
Hrolf led his group back to the line, stepping over the dead as if they were nothing more than stones in his path. "If we can't defeat these walls, then we will starve them into submission. The Franks are not as confident as they want us to believe. The carry on about their god, but it is empty boasting. Their god is dead, and can't help them. Don't fret, in a few more months they will be starving and ready to open their gates."
Ulfrik swallowed his anger, and glanced at Einar. He shook his head, and Ulfrik agreed with the silent condemnation he read in his face. Months from now, they would be no closer to breaking the Franks. He closed his eyes and imagined Snorri and Toki arriving to a happy and safe Nye Grenner, where Runa and his sons prospered and received them with joy.
To imagine anything else would inflict more pain than the bite of a Frankish arrow through his heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Two ships raced across the gray waters, strong winds filling their red sails. Men bristled on the deck, sharpening spears and swords, checking belts and fasteners, or testing the strength of their shields. These were men sailing for war, hearts full of bloodlust and desire for gold. Gulls rode the winds above the ships, squawking encouragement, eager to be led to a feast of flesh and entrails.
Summer had come to the Faereyar Islands, coloring the fields green and the mountains blue. The season of the raider was at hand.
Runa stood with Konal at the tiller. Though the weather was balmy, she swathed herself in a gray woolen cloak. Her pants were loose and comfortable, and her sword and sax carried easily on their baldrics. She would no longer wear mail to battle; its weight was a hindrance and danger to her. Instead, she covered herself with a wolf pelt. Animal skins were almost as much proof against a blade as mail, and less restrictive.
Runa the Bloody would don the armor of the great berserks. She planned to fight like one, as well.
The deck rolled with the waves and sea spray dappled her face in cool pinpoints. Konal guided his ship close to the shores of the islands. Runa did not know the exact location of Thorod's hall, and so they followed instructions given by one of Ingrid's people.
"Mother, I don't want to stay on the ship," Gunnar said, tugging Runa's cloak to draw her eye down to him. "I want to stand with you."
Gazing down on him, he appeared even smaller amid so many strong warriors. She had considered leaving him with the women and his brother, but surrendered to his persistence. He wanted to accompany the men to battle. Though his eyes and hair were hers, Gunnar's heart was all of Ulfrik's. She patted his shoulder, and dismissed him with a faint smile.
"I need a guard for my ship," Konal said. "I've trained you and your friends for that very task."
Shaking his head, he defied his young age by seeing through the trick. "You want me out of the way."
"That too." Konal laughed. "Now if the directions are true, then Thorod's hall should be along that beach."
Runa followed his pointing finger to a dark strip of rocky beach that swept up into hilly grassland. A velvety purple ridge of mountains backed it up. Squinting ahead, she detected delicate twirls of smoke rising amid the hills. "I see their hearth smoke. We have found them."
The crew animated at the news, leaning over the rails to view their landing area. Some began to take their colorful shields off the rails, slinging them over their backs. Konal's second stood in the stern and yelled orders to Kell's ship trailing behind. Once he had their attention, hand signals conveyed his intentions. Watching these ships coordinate their actions bought her mind back to when she had sailed with Ulfrik against Harald Finehair. The battles fought aboard Ulfrik's ships had stained the decks red with blood. She had stood amid fighting and dying men and terror had rendered her useless. Now, nearly a decade later, she would stand at the center of carnage, just as terrified but prepared to fight and kill. She ran her hands along the racked shields until one felt right, then she tugged it free.
Wary of rocks, Konal and Kell dropped their anchor stones in the shallows and the men had to slog to the shore. Gunnar grabbed Runa's arm before she dropped over the rails. She had wanted to avoid seeing him, knowing she might not survive true combat. He looked at her with sober eyes that expressed his realization of the danger. Her neck pulsed and her face was hot. Nothing had prepared her for what to say, and so she remained mute. Gunnar released her, and she splashed into the water.
Stumbling through the cold water, the rocks were sharp against her feet. Konal and Kell organized their men into groups, and looked expectantly at her.
"You're the leader," Konal said, smiling. "Take us to whom you want slain."
"Follow the smoke," she said, not knowing what else she should say. "Drag them out of their homes and do as you will. If they resist, put them down."
They marched up the slope into the shoulders of rocks that concealed Thorod's hall. Kell ordered men ahead to flush out concealed archers, but they found none. The hall emerged amid a thick green field, surrounded by smaller buildings. A horn sounded, and she knew they had been spotted. Behind her, men closed their ranks and raised shields.
"You better get in line with us, if they send men to battle." Konal opened a place to his left.
Runa studied the hall. Distant shouts preceded men and women who rushed toward it. Nothing indicated an organized force intended to meet them.
"If Thorod won't come out, we can break in." She pointed at the hall, and started toward it.
The men scouting ahead now emerged into the open, and escorted the flanks of the main body up the hill until they arrived at the village. Except for a gull perched on a roof ridge, the place was empty. Several buildings had collapsed, and decay had overtaken others. Only the hall appeared in repair, though shattered barrels were strewn around the walls.
"If I didn't see hearth smoke, I'd consider this place abandoned." Runa scratched the back of her neck. The wolf pelt fur itched her skin wherever it touched.
"They gathered in the hall for protection," Kell said, stepping out from the line. "Unless it's a trap, this is the action of a desperate man."
"We can burn it down and sift the ashes later," Konal suggested. He joined Runa, tapping his shield to hers. "You just want to kill these bastards anyway. Don't need to do it with your bare hands, right?"
Again Runa had no words. She wanted nothing but death for the men who had driven her family to poverty and starvation, and who had sent their sons to murder. Now, standing amid a ruined village that seemed to have suffered the same as her own, she hesitated.
"I want answers. Tear down those doors and let's find what is inside."
"A hall burning is better, and safer for us."
Runa glared at Konal until he snickered and relented. He ordered men to smash open the doors with their two handed axes. Each blow on the door brought a flurry of screams from within the hall. Most of the voices sounded female.
"Feels good to strike terror into your enemy's heart." Konal admired his men at work. "Revenge is a delicious supper."
As the men wrestled their axes free of the sundered door, other men came forward with spears and bows with arrows strung. They kicked apart the wood as carelessly as if it were an ordinary day’s work. One even stooped to drag timbers out of the opening. No one attacked.