Magnus laughed, but suddenly clamped his laughter off into silence. Runa glimpsed motion to her left. The shadows of two men, intertwined, appeared. Before either Runa or Magnus could react, the men disengaged and one toppled to the ground between them.
Fourteen
A bonfire cracked in front of the hall as Grim approached, throwing orange light out into the moon-bright night. Men patrolled the perimeter in pairs, with one holding a spear and the other a torch. Grim took no chance on his safety.
Returning to the hall had not consoled him as he had hoped. In fact, he dreaded having to take up the high seat. Certainly, he deserved it-after all, he had murdered for it. But now he discovered all of the other nuisances that attended it. For one, the unexpected trouble of pacifying his own men. He had paid some in silver, some in gold, and had given them all the bloodshed a warrior could want, yet they grumbled and murmured the entire march back from Magnus’s farm.
Things had not gone as he had hoped. Grim knew Vandrad would be waiting in the hall, drinking his wine and eating his food, ready with a stupid smirk and an insult about the failure of Grim’s trap. But at least Ulfrik had showed, and Magnus had served as an example to the other men. They had all escaped him, true enough, yet how could he have anticipated a surprise attack from the stragglers of Auden’s forces? How they even found him was unfathomable. Yet, for this, Grim expected nothing less than derision from Vandrad. He could hardly wait for Vandrad to return to High King Harald.
Halting before the bonfire, Grim ordered the bodies of the fallen to be laid beside the hall. Truly, the trap had not gone as well as he had hoped. Fifteen men had followed him to the farm and only nine returned. Grim promised extra pay for their troubles, which seemed to settle most of the men, but now, as he pointed to the side of the hall, the few men he could see were glowering at him, clearly wanting the dead laid out in the hall before they were properly cremated. Tradition be damned! He needed no reminder of his failure laid out in his own hall. “The bodies will be fine there. I’ll have sentries posted, and the fire will keep animals away,” he told them. “Besides, they will be burned with honor soon.”
The men fidgeted and shook their heads, but laid the bodies out as directed. Grim paid no further attention. With a small bow, the guards opened the door to the hall and Grim strode from the bracing night into the bright, rosy light inside. To Grim, the hall seemed abnormally long and wide, seeming to stretch beyond its true size. Grim rubbed his eyes to set them right, yet the place still looked alien to him. The main hearth blazed, projecting a happy glow throughout the vast hall. Fresh rushes were on the floor, and a clean, smoky scent filled his nose.
Vandrad and his two bodyguards sat at the far end, at the high table. Grim felt the wound on his face pulse the moment his eyes met Vandrad’s across the smoky expanse. He detested the easy manner in which Vandrad read him. Pulling his shoulders back in defiance, he strode toward him.
“Lord Grim!” Vandrad hailed him loudly, as if he were standing atop a mountain and looking down on him. “I assume your prey has eluded you.”
Grim stopped before Vandrad and his men, but did not face them. His shoulders slumped as he brought his booted feet together. “They all showed, as I planned, but we were ambushed by stragglers of Auden’s men, whom you were responsible for gathering up. We lost Ulfrik after the fight.” Grim stared at the floor and put one hand to his bandaged face, feeling the throb of pain and anger as he clenched his jaw. He pushed the rage out of his voice, affecting the fierce calm of a seasoned ruler. “If I did not have to complete your work, I would have succeeded. But instead we were taken unaware and lost several men in the fight.”
At last he looked up at Vandrad, who sat between his bodyguards, his hand gripping a silver cup filled with mead. Ignoring Grim’s accusation, Vandrad took a sip from the cup in reply. Then he carefully placed it aside and fixed his neatly trimmed beard, offering nothing more than a smile as an excuse for his failure.
Grim leaped up to the high table, smacking away the cup and slamming his fist on the board. “You were supposed to kill anyone you found! But you left half an army for me to deal with! I should send your head back to Harald for your fucking stupidity!”
Grim had barely ended his torrent before Vandrad’s men were on their feet, hands to their swords. In response, several of Grim’s warriors stepped forward with their hands on their hilts. Vandrad remained seated, a twisted smile playing on his face. Holding Grim’s stare, he wiped the splash of mead from his face. “Everyone stand down. Lord Grim is merely expressing his frustration.”
In the face of Vandrad’s calmness, Grim bit back his fury. He pulled up from the table and looked around. Not all of his men had come to the ready, he realized angrily, and several held sheepishly to the shadows. With a grunt, he waved them off. Somehow, Vandrad was winning, but he couldn’t figure out why.
“Now, if Lord Grim would like to know the details of my operation, I’d be happy to explain.” Vandrad, still smiling, appeared to be restraining a perverse glee. “We found several men who had been away during our raid. We eliminated them, along with any farmsteads that did not immediately pledge fealty and offer hostages. I cannot believe we missed half of an army, though I will admit a determined group could have avoided our search.”
“You’re calling me a liar!” Again Grim raged. He threw both arms in the air and spun away from Vandrad’s smirk. “You insult a king in his own hall!”
Behind him, Grim heard Vandrad rise. He turned to find the tall Vestfolder already grasping the back of his arm. His jovial demeanor vanished. Vandrad’s voice was little more than a hiss in Grim’s ear. “If you call yourself a king, behave like one. Honor your dead and let the living know they fought for a man worth their lives. Or soon there will be a new king of Grenner.”
Vandrad released his grip and backed away. With his usual practiced smile and bright voice, he added, “Such is my advice, Lord Grim. Please find some value in it.”
Grim stood dumbfounded, feeling anger beat in his head and throat. But he realized the worth of Vandrad’s advice. The man was a cousin and advisor of High King Harald, and he was assumed instrumental to Harald’s rise to power. Grim had forgotten this, in his rage. He softened his stance and let his voice drop to a normal tone. “You two,” he indicated men at the far end of the hall. “Bring the dead inside and make preparations for their funerals. If they had family, send runners to tell them they can see me for their gold.”
He dispensed his orders petulantly, like a child forced to his chores, but it was enough to make Vandrad smile and nod his agreement. Grim looked away, the exhaustion of the day finally weighing him down. With a wave of his hand, he indicated he would be in his room. For now, it felt the only safe place for him to forget what a fool he had made of himself.
***
Once inside his room, Grim unstrapped his sword and let it thud to the floor and then pulled off his armor and collapsed on the bed. The bandage on his face was old and dirty, but he hesitated to remove it. The wound was healing better than expected, but the hole created by his missing teeth still festered and hurt. Aud’s poultice worked if kept in his mouth, but the foul thing would not stay in place when he had so much to say. He had not expected to have to explain every detail to everyone. His father had never seemed to do anything but drink, eat, and take his share of plunder and whores. Grim had expected as much, too. Not this, he thought morosely. Not this.
Sometime later, he lay half-sleep atop his furs when he noticed his lone candle was ready to flutter out. He was feeling the night’s cold or he would have slumbered by now. Stiff and sore from fighting and marching, he rose and hobbled over to the plate of dried fish and cheese that someone had set out. Eating was both slow and painful, but if he mashed up the food it went down easier.