Ulfrik ordered one of the archers to pass his bow and an arrow over to Snorri. Hardar continued to curse him as his ships were launching. "Snorri, put an arrow between his feet and give him something to think about."
Snorri smiled, took the bow and aimed. Hardar saw the shot lining up and stumbled back. Snorri released and the arrow arced down the slope to stick at Hardar's feet. He danced away, falling backward into the surf. A wave broke over him and Ulfrik and all his men burst into laughter.
Hardar staggered to his feet and slogged to his ship. Once aboard, he came to the stern and hurled more curses as the ships' oars dipped into the water, pushing them out to the fjord.
"What happened?" Toki asked.
"We just went to war with the strongest and most popular man in all the Faereyjar Islands."
CHAPTER NINE
Hardar craned his neck forward, straining to see against the rosy light of evening. All three of his ships bobbed and drifted with the rolling tide. Gulls screamed above as if daring him to sail. "This is unbelievable," he muttered to himself.
"They don't look hostile," Dag offered, standing below Hardar in the prow.
"Six ships beached on my shore with crews ranked up look friendly to you, Dag? Save me the strength and throw yourself overboard."
"Lord Hardar, they could've burnt the whole place to cinders by now. And those are big ships. Why not capture us and have done with it? They could do it, I think."
Hardar grunted at Dag's words. He jumped down to the deck and surveyed his men. The fools shit themselves when Ulfrik's warriors threatened, he thought. They stared at him with wide eyes and slack expressions. He had to speak before one of them started crying for family left behind.
"All right, I don't know where these ships came from or what's waiting for us ashore. They obviously see us, and they're not attacking. Yet. So let's get ashore and learn what these dogs want." He added under his breath, "As if I don't already know."
Hardar waved his hand overhead to signal the other ships. He strode between his men back to the tiller, each watching him as he passed. Ignoring them, he grasped the tiller and bellowed. "Row, you dogs, or I'll put the whip to your backs!"
Their ships nosed toward the shore, and the line of invaders shifted to face them as they approached. The invaders were as well equipped as Ulfrik's men, though they didn't display the same crisp discipline. Despite their numbers, Hardar felt less threatened than he had been by the control Ulfrik exerted over his warriors.
He leapt from his ship to meet an enemy for the second time that day. His ships landed down the rocky beach, out of enemy bow range. He shouted orders as his crews hauled their ships aground. As they formed up behind him, Hardar strode toward the invaders. "Dag, with me."
The leader was a giant wrapped in animal pelts. He detached from the dark line of warriors, who disappeared into the brilliance of the low sun. Only then did Hardar realize the crafty enemy had positioned him to fight into the glare. It made his stomach roil. He stopped halfway and set his feet wide and folded his arms. The enemy would come to him. He wasn't giving another inch.
The giant man lumbered forward with two other men. He halted a spear length away from Hardar. Muscle rippled beneath leathery, tanned skin. His hair and beard were shaggy and gray. He looked like he hadn't washed in a month.
"I want to talk to your leader, not a trained bear," Hardar said.
The giant man smiled with his few yellow teeth. A white scar danced on his cheek as he did. "I am Jarl Kjotve the Rich, King of Agder. You must be the famous Jarl Hardar Hammerhand."
"The bear speaks, too. That's also a famous name you use. Harald Finehair spilled Kjotve's guts and took his kingdom. So give me another name before I lose patience."
The smile fled the man's face and his dark, animal eyes flashed. "You think me a liar? Were you at Hafrsfjord, Hardar Hammerhand? Harald slew my son, enslaved my family, and stole my land. But he did not kill me. Now you know the truth. A man a hundred times more royal than you has paid your shit-pile village a visit, and you call him a liar. This is not what I expected from you."
Kjotve bore down on Hardar and scowled. Hardar felt like a mast was about to fall on him, and stepped back. Shame burned on his cheeks when he realized that he had given ground. "Then forgive me, Jarl Kjotve. News is rarer than trees in these lands. But you can hardly expect my hospitality, not with a hundred men and six ships laid out on my shore. Have you blown off course?"
Kjotve's smile grew and he stood straighter. Hardar looked past him at the blurry line of men. Errant flashes rolled off their helms, but none stirred or indicated attack. He looked back at Kjotve, who folded his arms loosely across his chest. Gold and silver armbands glinted under the sleeve of mail. "I've placed my men in the open and not in the most strategic spot. I wanted you to know we have no ill intent."
"That's why you're all readied for war then?"
"We have to be prepared for anything from you. Besides, I could've plundered your home three times over since you left this morning. I've been to visit your wife, Ingrid. She is a charming and beautiful woman."
"If you touched her, I'll have your balls." His hand reached for his sword; a vision of Ingrid welcoming this brute to their bed flashed in his mind. Kjotve's two companions grabbed their own sword hilts. But Kjotve laughed.
"I may have brushed her hand when she gave me a horn of mead. But otherwise, I've been a behaved guest. Let's come to the point, Hardar. I am here because I think we can help each other."
Hardar's gut tightened and he raised his chin. "Meaning that you can use me before turning on me. You've come for my treasure, haven't you?"
Again Kjotve laughed, a bark from the deep of his throat. "You trust no one. That is good! Trust should be as rare as gold and just as seldom given. Aye, you are useful to me. You are the greatest jarl in these lands, yes?"
Hardar peered at him, holding his words. Kjotve continued, his smile fading.
"But you are troubled by another. You have a rival."
Hardar scratched his beard. "You seem to know much about me, too much for my liking."
"I know a great deal. I will share something with you now. Your rival owes me a debt. Your rival is an oath-breaker and a coward. Your rival is a man I wish to destroy. Do we have a common interest, Jarl Hardar Hammerhand?"
Hardar's eyes grew wider with each word. His mouth nearly watered at the possibilities he imagined with Kjotve's help. "If you are speaking of Ulfrik Ormsson, then we share that interest."
"Let us stand down our men and return to your hall. We have much to discuss." Kjotve's smile furrowed lines into his cheeks. Hardar found himself matching that smile. He scanned the ranks of Kjotve's warriors, and saw how Ulfrik would die.
Hardar shoved Ingrid aside, "For the last time, I did all that could be done. An attack would've been disaster."
He peeked out of his room into the main hall. Kjotve and his warriors appeared content to drink his mead. The smoky hall glowed orange with the blazing hearth, sparked to life so Hardar could host a feast to welcome his guests. His own men had to wait outside, so full was the hall with Kjotve's crews. A thin man stood on the table, recounting a tale that drew raucous laughter from his audience.
"I don't care about disaster," Ingrid said with a sob. "My little girl is gone, and you didn't save her."
"Gods woman, she fled by her own free will. She's happier there. I just hope she won't hike her skirt for that ass-dropping she ran off with. Vermund expects a virgin."
The slap did not hurt as much as it surprised Hardar. He turned into it, about to push Ingrid back into their room. Stunned, he put a hand to his cheek while she cursed him. "How can you know? Why would she be happier away from her family?"