CHAPTER TWO
"Is everyone having a good time?" Ulfrik sat up suddenly, his stomach churned and head spun; he fell back onto his bed. He didn't remember how he had got in bed.
He panicked when he awoke to silence and the murkiness of his bedroom. A cool and delicate hand touched a damp cloth to his face.
"Everyone is having fun. Don't move." Runa wiped the cloth over a cut on his cheek and the sting made Ulfrik wince. "Now, you need to rest, but stay awake. Many men don't wake after getting hit in the head like you did."
Runa plopped the cloth into a wooden bowl, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He smiled, and gently held her arm. A pale column of light from the lone window broke the darkness. Blue light bounced off the gentle curves of Runa's face. She wore a concerned smile, and Ulfrik felt the bloom of gratitude for her care. His eyes drifted across to where his mail and helmet glinted in the low light, hung on a rack. Beyond the walls of his room, he could hear the occasional shouts of his guests at play.
"I'm like a boy being tended by a nursemaid. I can't be stuck in here, not with Hardar out there."
Runa frowned, withdrawing her arm from Ulfrik's hand to place it across his chest. "You need to recover from that so-called wrestling match. Besides, Hardar is not out there. You nearly blinded him."
"But the bastard was choking me to death."
"So I noticed."
Ulfrik faced his wife. Her smile had vanished and her eyes glittered with concern. His stomach clenched, knowing he had subjected her to her greatest fear. "I am sorry, wife. We jarls are a competitive lot. We just got carried away."
Runa didn't reply. She held his gaze then leaned out of her stool to lie over his chest. "You mustn't ever come to harm, Ulfrik. I need you. Your son needs you. Nye Grenner needs you. Please don't get carried away again."
"I promise." He had learned that a few simple words meant more to Runa than long explanations. He stroked her hair, so lustrous and full that she did not wear a head cover like other married women. He let her rest in silence a moment, the dampness from her tears penetrating his shirt.
At last she sat up and laughed. "Now I'm being foolish. It's just that I'm always worried."
"Do not worry," Ulfrik said as he struggled to his elbows. Dizziness still plagued him, but he determined to shove it aside. "Fate has not seen us this far to kill me in a friendly wrestling competition. I have survived worse. We have survived worse. Take heart, wife."
"Strangulation is hardly friendly. Don't take me for a fool. Five years ago you wanted to kill each other, so why would he have changed?"
"Much has changed in five years." Ulfrik's throat pulsed and he absently rubbed his throbbing temple. The match had gotten out of hand, he knew. Runa clucked her tongue at Ulfrik's words. But he spoke over whatever she wanted to say. "And so where is my boy?"
"Gerdie took him to watch Snorri at the ax-throwing contest. He was scared to death seeing you carried in here covered in blood and vomit. I sent him out to distract him."
Ulfrik nodded silently, ashamed for needlessly frightening his son on what should be a time of happy memories. Ulfrik's own father would not have cared. He wanted to be different, though he often caught himself speaking his father's words.
"You are going to lie down." Runa stood and pressed both of his shoulders back. Ulfrik resisted.
"I am going to the contest. Thank you for cleaning me. Now fetch my cloak while I prepare."
Runa stared at him, her mouth bent into a half-smile. She finally shrugged and turned to get a new cloak. Ulfrik placed his feet on the hard-packed dirt floor, stood off the bed, and wobbled. By the time Runa offered his cloak, he was steady and smirking. She threw it over his shoulders then fished a silver pin from her skirt pocket. "Take it slowly and don't hit your head anymore."
Ulfrik laughed and let Runa pin his cloak. She kissed him again. "Avoid Hardar for now. You've worked too long and hard to waste this festival on your arguments with him."
"Of course, you are right." Ulfrik took a few staggering steps, then exited his bedroom into the main hall. Women and children fussed and scurried in preparation for the feast. Ulfrik paused and reflected on how far he had come since arriving here five years ago. Runa appeared behind him as he stood in the doorway.
"I'll prove to everyone that I am a better man than Hardar Hammerhand. Let the others see what he's really like."
From behind, Runa sighed. Ulfrik didn't think much of it, and left to rejoin the games.
Within moments of Ulfrik reappearing to the crowds, Hardar also rushed from his tent. His eye had swollen shut and his face was puffy. Ulfrik turned away to mask his laugh. Hardar had fought well. But he wore his beating far worse than Ulfrik. Men from all the different islands cheered and applauded them equally, though some favored one over the other. Ulfrik, keen to show himself the gracious host, went straight to Hardar with an outstretched hand.
"You are a skilled wrestler, Lord Hardar. You put me to the test." Ulfrik's arm dangled in the air as Hardar, with two hirdmen flanking him, ignored it.
"I won that match." His expression spoke no pleasantries. His swollen eye and face made Ulfrik think of something dredged from a fisherman's net. He pushed ahead without another word, the two hirdmen giving Ulfrik blank looks as they passed.
Ulfrik's face grew hot, but he was still weak and unsteady. He watched in irritation as Hardar strolled over to a knot of men who welcomed him to their conversation. The he glanced around to find others turning away in embarrassment.
"Forget about him." Ulfrik startled at the closeness of the speaker, then turned to find Toki approaching. "He's used to wrestling men who roll over on command."
Ulfrik shook his head. "Then he misjudged when he challenged me to the match. How's Gunnar doing?"
"He's being a boy. Gerdie is herding him while he finds as much mischief as he can. He nearly ran out into the ax throwing contest, if Gerdie didn't cuff him good. He wanted to throw."
They both laughed and Ulfrik leaned on Toki, both in greeting and to steady himself. Together they walked to join the other of the visitors. The gods had provided clear skies, dramatically framing the blue-green mountains of the western ridge of his island domain. Spread out in the knee-high grass fields were clusters of simple tents. Men from all about the Faereyjar Islands had gathered on his land to celebrate the start of summer. Finally emerging from the long night of winter, the summer of never-ending sunlight was celebrated with games and feasting. Hardar had traditionally hosted this, being the richest and most powerful jarl in the southern islands. But this year, citing his age, Hardar offered Ulfrik the honor of doing it for him. For the first time in most men's memories, the summer festivals were held elsewhere.
Gunnar ran screaming toward Ulfrik, delighted. Ulfrik swept up his son, then wobbled with dizziness. "Are you making trouble again, boy?"
"No," Gunnar said as he threw his small arms about Ulfrik's neck.
"You say, No, Father," Ulfrik corrected, and Gunnar nodded solemnly. Still feeling his weakness, he passed Gunnar into Toki's arms. "Go with Uncle Toki now. I have important business. Be good."
Gunnar again nodded as Toki accepted him with a mock expression of pain. "How heavy you've become. You should carry me instead."
Ulfrik laughed. "Thanks for watching Gunnar. He looks more like his mother every day. Looks more like your brother than nephew."
He left Toki to entertain Gunnar, and he sought the company of the other jarls. Runa had been right, he realized. He had not used the festival to mingle and risked losing the real opportunity of hosting the festivaclass="underline" to become another key player in the informal politics of the islands.