Chapter 48
Runa waited, surrounded by hirdmen, Snorri at her side and Konal using a spear to support himself. Both could no longer restrain her, and had resigned themselves to following her. The hirdmen accompanying them were hard-bitten warriors of long service. She knew them all by name, as well as their wives or lovers and their children as well. They had insisted on escorting her out to the field where Clovis had met with Ulfrik. Ensconced in such care and strength, she should not fear, yet her hands were ice and her heart fluttered.
The sixth day was ending without word from Ulfrik. She had counted the time: two days to Hrolf, two days to return, and the rest of the time to prepare his trap. Even if he returned this night, would any time remain for his plan? If not, what happened to her children? Whether Ravndal stood or fell, or whether she surrendered every scrap of treasure to Clovis mattered not at all. Land and gold could be won again, but her family could never be replaced.
"They are coming," said one of the hirdmen, pointing at the group of shadows emerging from the distant gates. Runa swallowed. What had he summoned her to discuss if not the ransom due?
"You don't need to speak to him," Snorri whispered at her side. "We've got until tomorrow."
Runa waved him back without looking. He had repeated the same thing since receiving Clovis's messenger, and she no longer wished to hear it. Had he not been like a father, she would have been tempted to strike him.
Clovis arrived with his attendants, though Theodoric did not accompany him. The swaggering gait of the man irked her. She imagined kicking him square in the crotch and watching that smugness turn to agony. His hands fussed with his cloak, and jeweled rings glittered in the pink light of the evening. He scanned them, and not finding Ulfrik, his eyes did not know where to land. She stepped forward.
"Here, do you not recognize me?"
"I thought you a servant," he said. Runa's hirdmen growled and threatened, but she held up a hand to them.
"I am Runa the Bloody, and I lead while Ulfrik is gone."
Tipping his head to the side, he blinked several times before laughing. "Such a fearsome name, yet I've not heard it before. You are Ulfrik's wife?"
"I am that too. Now did you call this meeting to gawk at me or were you planning to surrender and spare me the trouble of teaching you how I earned my name?"
His mouth opened in genuine surprise and he had no words. Runa had long been known as the Bloody for the violence she saved for her enemies. She was glad Halla had been persuaded to remain with her children, as hearing that old title would make her even less tractable than she had been since Toki's capture. Runa gave a thin smile, her hand feeling for the blade hidden beneath her skirt. Let me show you how different I am from the women you know, she thought. It'd be your last lesson.
"Well, I summoned Ulfrik and he has not come. Do I take it to mean he is still away?"
"You are more clever than I ever expected," she said.
The jibe took a moment to penetrate Clovis's understanding. His face darkened and his bemused smile turned to a snarl. "Such a light spirit. I wonder if you will be laughing tomorrow when your husband fails to show."
Her cold hands trembled and she folded them under her arms to hide it. Annoying Clovis might not be a good idea, but provided mild relief for her urge to kill him. "He will return with your ransom. Now why did you summon me?"
"Because Theodoric and I are impatient with this delay. A week was more than generous, and tomorrow marks the end of it. If our demands cannot be satisfied by dawn tomorrow, your kin will die."
"We have through tomorrow," Runa said.
"Until tomorrow," Clovis said, his sneer widening. "It seems you barbarians are not smart enough to count as high as seven days."
"Trickery," Runa snapped. "You cannot change the day. It is breaking your word."
"Your failure to mark time is not my concern. And those men behind you look eager to strike. Remember your children. If I don't return, you will find their heads atop my walls."
Runa whirled on the men behind her, who had lowered spears or had their hands upon their swords. Even Snorri and Konal seemed ready to strike. "We're here to talk. Put up your weapons and don't risk my family's lives."
Clovis stroked his beard as if considering what to do. He regarded Runa with slitted eyes. "It seems I will not have my ransom. I should have expected it. Let me tell you what I am planning, Runa. By tomorrow morning, if there is no sign of your husband or my ransom, I will not kill Toki."
A rush of breath came from Runa, not even realizing she had been holding it.
"I will kill Hakon instead."
"You dare not."
"I do. I am tired of your arrogance, of the games you play, of everything about you. Your son is a brat, and if you won't pay for his life then I will dispose of him. The others are Theodoric's hostages, but don't expect him to be any more patient than me. In fact, he has wearied of this faster than I had expected. He's of a mind to kill all the hostages at once and destroy you now."
"He's bluffing," Snorri whispered from behind. "Their advantage isn't that big. If the hostages are dead, then we will pin them inside and all their horses won't matter."
"What are you whispering about?" Clovis demanded. "Do you have no answer for me?"
"Tomorrow you will have all you ask, whether Ulfrik has returned or not."
Snorri gasped, then rasped in her ear. "Lass, you can't do that. It's not our land to give."
She nearly bowled him over as she rounded to leave Clovis. Konal grabbed her arm, and their eyes met. Her glare withered him, and he let her go. No more games, no more tricks. If Ulfrik failed, then she was not surrendering her children to death. Let him live in shame, let him pay, but not her sons.
"Tomorrow at dawn," Clovis called after her.
The hirdmen fell in behind, and she closed her ears to their murmurs of protest. These games were finished.
Chapter 49
In the predawn light, Throst and his two companions entered the square tower where Clovis imprisoned the hostages. No one minded them, as all but a scattering of watchmen on the palisades still slumbered. The Franks had proved to be indolent people who looked to their slaves whenever real work needed to be done. The fortress was asleep, and would not awaken until the roosters forced them to accept a new day had arrived. They entered the empty ground floor and cautiously moved to the wooden stairs leading up.
"This is a fool's business," Olaf whispered. "If we're going, then let's be gone. This is the wrong fucking way."
"Shut up, Olaf," Dan grumbled and pushed him forward.
Throst glared at both of them, paused before setting foot on the creaking steps, then started up. In one hand he carried an ax which had been looted from the Danes, more than likely Ulfrik's people. In his other, he clutched a sheath sword of Frankish make. Both had been given to him for sharpening by one stupid brute who had not understood Clovis had forbidden them weapons. If it was not a sign of the gods' favor, Throst did not know what else would be.
The darkness was unbroken but for the candle Dan carried. They moved through a murky circle of light that barely revealed their feet, and Throst caught his foot on more than one step as they climbed. On the second floor two men slept on pallets covered in straw. One had his back turned while another lay on his side facing them. Neither stirred and both snored like thunder. They guarded a barred door where Hakon was kept.
Throst was tempted to say farewell to the boy. In truth, he was not a bad child, and had he been another man's son, Throst could have liked him. Still, he was a tool that had no more use. Today, unless Ulfrik produced his ransom, poor Hakon would die and no one at all would have benefited from all his suffering.