Battle was thickest in the fore, where Kjotve roared and his picked men hewed their attackers like fire wood. But the aft swelled with fighting men. Ulfrik chose to lay into these men first.
The weariness of fear and the pain of his wounds no longer burdened him. The battle song pulsed through his body and he became lithe and free. His blade darted into the gaps between shields, returning blood slicked. Men screamed when he slashed. He roared his frustration, seeking the familiar faces of his tormentors.
An enemy clashed with him, but Ulfrik caught the blow on his shield. "I'm with you!" he screamed, but the man was mad with battle lust. Ulfrik slashed beneath his shield, his blade turning on the man's mail coat. Ulfrik slammed his shield into the enemy's face, then stabbed down into his thigh below the hem of the mail.
The man skittered away into the mayhem. Snorri emerged from the throng, his white hair matted with gore and his face wild with joy. He howled and threw himself back into the fray.
An arrow thumped into Ulfrik's shield, and he instinctively ducked. A sword passed through where his head had just been. Ulfrik rammed his sword into the body that had leapt in front of him. He did not see his enemy's face, but heard him scream as he crumpled to the deck. Blood sloshed like foamy red water. Bodies flopped as the ship rocked and men struggled to stand and fight.
Kjotve had fought his way out of the forecastle. The slain piled around him and his hirdmen like a tide mark. The enemy king, for that is what Ulfrik knew he must be, fought with skillful ferocity. Kjotve, it seemed to him, wanted to avoid the king and escape to his other ship. But the enemy had pinned him and his hirdmen to the gunwales.
Ulfrik grabbed the men beside him. They were not his own, but they responded to his command. "Get to the other ship and cut off his retreat. He will back into us and be doomed."
The enemy men exchanged glances and then followed Ulfrik. He bounded over the rails, landing on the opposite deck. He slid on the blood clinging to his feet. One of Kjotve's crew charged him as he struggled to keep his balance. Seeing the threat, he let himself fall back. The attacker stumbled past, and Ulfrik kicked into his feet. His legs entangled, the attacker tumbled and the others following Ulfrik skewered him to the deck. One paused to help him stand.
Now Kjotve's men were escaping over to where they expected no resistance. But Ulfrik and his small crew stood prepared to cut them down. Kjotve was effectively trapped between both ships. His roar of frustration rose above the thunder of battle. Men stumbled screaming into the water to be swallowed below.
Now the enemy king and Kjotve clashed. Ulfrik burned for revenge. Hot anger at the enemy king flashed through Ulfrik's limbs. Kjotve was his alone to kill. He deserved it. With a battle cry, he jumped back upon the rails. "For Nye Grenner! Kjotve, your death is come!"
He hovered on the rail, heedless of falling into the water. The two ships bucked together as men fought across the ships. Ulfrik stood above the combat, shield feathered with arrows and sword dripping with gore. The two giant leaders battled at the center of the knot of warriors. Kjotve had discarded his ax in the close fight, now slashing with a short blade. Breaking away from the enemy king, he cleared the rails and landed on the opposite deck.
Men sawed at the ropes to cut free. The enemy king, his face pulled tight with rage, stepped onto the rail to follow Kjotve.
The aft of the ships broke free. Ulfrik shifted back to the rail on Kjotve's side. The king stumbled forward.
He sprawled on his face. Kjotve, despite his brutish stature, reacted swiftly. The king flipped over. Kjotve raised his sword to strike.
Ulfrik sprung from the rail, holding his shield before him. He collided with Kjotve, deflecting the killing strike. The impact crushed both of them to the deck in a tangled mass. Kjotve's foul breath blasted Ulfrik's face as he screamed curses. Ulfrik recovered first, straddling Kjotve and bringing a blade to his throat.
He imagined pushing the cutting edge through the flesh, biting deep to the bone. He could hear the gurgle and see Kjotve's eyes pop in horrible realization of death. But he held the blade. He pushed only hard enough to draw blood.
"Yield to me or die!" Ulfrik roared. Kjotve flexed, his arms pinned to his sides. Ulfrik sawed the blade deeper and blood flowed readily. "Yield or die!"
Kjotve howled in pain. "I yield! You pig fucking son of a troll!"
An incredible lightness enveloped Ulfrik in that moment. Kjotve wrestled, but now more sword and spear points tagged him. He ceased. Ulfrik heaved with the exertion, the pure joy of victory. Kjotve's dark face snarled and he spit curses like a snake spits venom. But all around, his men yielded as well. The fight ended with the fall of Kjotve.
A hand rested upon Ulfrik's shoulder. The voice that spoke was deep and powerful, like rolling ocean waves. "Stand and surrender your blade."
Ulfrik's sword remained where it stayed. He twisted around to face the king leaning over him. "He is my captive. By rights battle known to every man, he's mine."
The king nodded, but his grip tightened. "Surrender your blade. The battle is done. You are hurt."
Ulfrik jumped in surprise, looking down at his torso but finding no wound. His mind reached out to the rest of his body, and he felt the blood running down his back. The lashing wounds must have re-opened. He slumped with relief.
One of the enemy firmly took Ulfrik's arm and removed his sword. Ulfrik did not resist. The king himself helped raise Ulfrik to his feet. "For now you are my prisoner."
"I saved your life," Ulfrik said as he was lifted off Kjotve, who was still ringed with spears and swords.
"I know. Give me time to settle matters. I will not forget."
Ulfrik scanned the results. These three ships were surrounded by the enemy, and other of Kjotve's ships had already been cleared and captured. He smiled when he found Snorri begrudgingly turning over sword and shield. He saw other of his crew, but not all. Ingrid was lost to him in the battle.
"The great sea-king Jarl Kjotve the Rich!" The giant king clapped his hands together as Kjotve was hauled to his knees before him. "You have much to pay for. That you should return to these lands again is either the most foolish or most brave thing I've seen in a long while."
"Fuck you and your High King Harald." Kjotve spit at the king, a weak effort that sprayed bloody spit on the deck. But a man kicked his side for the insolence.
"Yes, fuck the high king. I agree. But such sentiments buy you nothing with me." The king ordered Kjotve bound, and then he raised his sword and proclaimed victory. The enemy shouted and stabbed their swords in the air.
Ulfrik felt the impulse to cheer, but remembered he was still a captive and nothing had changed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"Why would Halla and Dana go off on their own?" Toki asked Gerdie the question, since he had asked everyone else enough times for them to tire of him. Gerdie shrugged as she helped him fold the sail.
"They left everything behind, so they will return," Gerdie said with a yawn. Her face said she did not care if Halla remained away.
Toki bit his lower lip. He understood the last days had been trying, and Halla needed time alone. He sometimes needed the same for himself. She had left obvious footprints, making no effort to conceal where she had gone. He hoped when Sigvid arrived, she would accompany him.
"She didn't make any friends in Sigvid's hall. Why go there? It makes no sense."
Gerdie met Toki to complete the fold of the sail. He took the bulky cloth from her and stowed it. The others prepared the ship for sailing. Runa monitored Gunnar as he practiced climbing trees. Halla's absence elicited no concern.
Halla, you have not made friends here, he thought to himself and grimaced. Einar had been the only one who seemed worried, and Toki felt it due to guilt he bore for sleeping on his watch.