Skard's reddened cheek had already begun to swell. He scowled at Hardar, but sat as directed. Thorod's hand melted from his dagger, and he also sat. Skard spit on the floor. "They will fight, but they will expect something for risking their lives. This is not their home. It's all I wanted to say."
Hardar grunted and continued to pace. "How many men do you have in total, about forty?"
Thorod shook his head. "Forty including whoever remained from your men. I bought you back twenty more men from the Hebrides."
"Sixty men is not enough!" Hardar yelled, punching the air. "At least twenty more must come, and I'd want twenty again to be sure. Where can I raise forty more men?"
Skard and Thorod stared at him. He stared back. In one summer of fighting he had reduced his army to a paltry forty men. Kjotve had stolen most of his wealth and Ulfrik had hidden his own treasures. He could scarcely afford the men he had already employed.
"We need allies," Hardar said. "The two of you will go north and promise thirty pounds of silver to any jarl who will come to my aid."
"You have that much?" Skard frowned, still holding his bruised cheek.
"I will have that much by the time you return. Each of you take a ship, bring men, and I will give you silver to pay the jarls a portion in advance. You will leave immediately. Ulfrik is not going to launch his attack any day soon."
Thorod and Skard sat with their brows furrowed and mouths agape. Hardar saw the disbelief in their eyes. He was lying, of course, but not entirely. He swallowed the angry curses he felt rising in his throat, and smiled.
"I will give you silver, as well. For your service to me. This I will give you today."
"So you've kept a secret from us?" Thorod said with a sly grin. "There's more in the stores than you want us to believe."
The stores had nothing more, but Hardar smiled sheepishly. "Every man keeps something for himself. But now I cannot afford to withhold it. As for the rest of the promised silver, more is hidden on this land than Ulfrik took with him. There are still those loyal to him who should know where it is."
Thorod and Skard smiled, though Skard's vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "You don't know that. You're just guessing. If we go out and promise silver you cannot pay, you will be making new enemies."
"Be ready to sail as soon as the fog lifts. I will have your silver ready, and you will do as I've asked."
Thorod and Skard eventually rose from the table and left the hall. Hardar searched around, as if he had overlooked a secret hiding spot where mounds of silver and gold lay. He licked his lips. Prevailing against Ulfrik was his highest priority. The other jarls would hopefully die in battle, or could be helped to that fate once victory was assured.
He exited the hall, stepping into the milky light of the morning. He set out for the barracks where the mercenaries passed their days drinking and playing dice, waiting for the promised raids to begin. They would not hesitate in breaking bones or cutting off noses from the local people. One of Ulfrik's circle still lived here, Thorvald the blacksmith. He planned to start with him. He hoped the smith would still have the use of his hands once he confessed the location of the hidden treasure.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ulfrik awoke with his face on a dirt floor. He scratched at it, and fear flashed through him. He flipped over, expecting Hardar's pug-nosed face to appear above him. Instead he saw tendrils of smoke inching along the ceiling, entwining the rafters. He heard a few low voices, and remembered where he was.
"There's the great drinker!" Gunther One-Eye's voice hit his head like a hammer. "You and your friend together couldn't put me under. What did I promise you?"
Ulfrik's mouth was stiff and dry, a burning thirst consumed him. "You promised I'd regret challenging you."
"But you couldn't resist!" He chortled and his companions joined him. "Ragnvald can throw a feast, I'll offer you that. If he can fight like he can drink, then maybe we should try harder to get him on our side."
More laughter made Ulfrik's head ring. He stood, brushed down his shirt and hair. He pulled away bits of straw caught in his beard and pants. Snorri slouched over a bench, gave a bleak smile over his shoulder. "My age is showing."
Ulfrik moved stiffly. Ragnvald's feast had been the first good thing he had experienced in months, and he had overindulged. Now, in the unforgiving clarity of the morning, he felt ill physically and mentally. His wife and son were lost, maybe even dead. He hit his head to clear his mind, but also to chastise himself. He shuffled to the bench and seated himself.
Ingrid sat across from both of them. Her pale eyes flashed cold disdain, her face a mask of snow. She perched on her bench, making Ulfrik think of a hawk. He knew the talons were ready to strike.
"Lord Ulfrik, you are causing me great doubt. My family, all of our families, are relying on your plans. Getting drunk and falling into a puddle of your vomit is no way to help anyone. You know there is no time to waste. How clear are you this morning? Could you defend yourself if Hardar surprised us here?"
Ulfrik stared at her. She was right, and he hated it. "I've got to piss."
He shuffled away, leaving Gunther and his crew snickering. Rather than pissing inside, as he often did, he fumbled outside and let go on the wall beside the door. Steam rolled of the wetness pattering on the wall as he considered next steps. If Ragnvald would not assist, neither would anyone else. He had to learn the situation at Nye Grenner for himself, which meant sending spies or handling it on his own.
He ambled back inside, where no one had moved and Ingrid sat in frigid anger. Returning to Snorri's side, he cast around at the expectant faces. "Someone needs to see what's happing at Nye Grenner. Who can we send?"
"Didn't Ragnvald tell us everything we need to know?" Gunther asked. "He's hired some farmers to supplement his own men. We only need to kill them along with Hardar."
Gunther's crew laughed but Ulfrik shook his head. "I value Ragnvald's insights, but I need to know what is happening today. This is my one chance, one I cannot treat lightly. Someone must go to Nye Grenner."
Ingrid cleared her throat. Ulfrik ignored her, still suffering the embarrassed sting of her words. "Would not the best person for this be you? Who knows the land better?"
"I'd lose my temper the moment I set foot there. I'm the worst choice. But someone should be sent immediately. Gunther, someone from your crew would do. One of my own men will guide him."
"I've got a boy on my crew who's like a shadow. I can send him if your man won't give him away."
"I'm sure Ragnvald would lend a small boat, or someone could spare one for the right payment."
Gunther frowned. "I'm supposed to grow wealthier on this adventure. Whatever I spend is coming out of your take."
"I'll take my share in Hardar's teeth." Laughter rippled across the gathered crew, but Ingrid winced. Ulfrik fell silent. The shame only lasted a moment. "Come now, Lady Ingrid. He's no longer your husband. You're planning this attack with us, you'll remember."
She waved her hand before her face, her own blush forming. Satisfied, Ulfrik turned to Gunther and explained how to best approach Nye Grenner and where to hide. Men came and went as he detailed the plan. Ragnvald later joined and agreed to help secure a small boat for the job. After most of the morning had passed, all was ready and Gunther's man rowed off with his guide.
Ulfrik and several others joined Gunther to wish them luck as they departed. If the gods were with them, they would make landfall by night, or so Ulfrik had planned.