"We must tell them something, Lord," the messenger said.
"Father, you can't doubt Konal?" Gunnar frowned at Ulfrik. "He saved my life once. Why would you doubt him?"
Ulfrik smiled, patting Gunnar's shoulder. Runa blinked hard and turned aside. If only you knew, son, he thought, there's more reason to doubt him than to trust him. Then he saw Aren, sitting quietly next to his mother, face placid and eyes darting from person to person like a master assessing his charges.
"Allow them inside as long as they surrender their weapons. Lead them directly to me." The messenger bowed to the command and made to leave before Ulfrik halted him. "Konal is a friend, and as long as he behaves as one you will treat him with courtesy."
The hall fluttered with the news of a new arrival. Many of the hirdmen recalled Konal, more for being a twin than being an outstanding warrior. Gunnar's excitement spread to Hakon, who was too young to remember Konal but jumped in glee nonetheless. From the far end of the high table, Einar shrugged at him and returned to his wife, Bera, and their daughters. A spasm of envy overcame Ulfrik, wishing he could share Einar's carefree indifference. Instead, he smiled falsely and called for a servant to fill his mug. When Snorri finally hobbled down from his seat with Einar, he whispered in Ulfrik's ear.
"You can't fool me; you're worried about him. Why allow him in?"
"Why deny him?" Ulfrik countered, constantly scanning the servants and hirdmen circulating through the hall, nodding to those whose glances searched him for reassurance. "He has never done me any wrong."
He did not want to look at Aren, but he did. Runa was stroking his hair and hunched to speak to his tender ears. She blocked his view, and so he turned back to Snorri. His scarred and craggy face looked hard into his own, and Ulfrik knew how well his old friend read his thoughts. "What do you think of my son?"
He held Snorri's stare, until he shook his head and turned away. A fierce anger erupted and he latched hard onto Snorri's arm. "I asked a question and want your answer. For six years you've held something in your heart you won't tell me."
"And here is the place to tell you, where a hundred ears lean in while pretending to be busy? Have some sense, lad."
Releasing him, Ulfrik scowled and turned aside in sullen quiet. He studied the table in front him, wrapping himself in his thoughts. Snorri doubted Aren's parentage, he was certain, but he had more to say. Aren was a strange child who was unsmiling and distant to all except his mother. Still, Ulfrik had attended his birth and raised him as his own.
He roused from his black mood as people flitted about the edges of his vision. Gunnar spoke incessantly about all he could recall of Konal. Runa offered platitudes, but from her tone Ulfrik knew she wished to speak of anything else. He sat up straight in time for the hall doors to open again, now a dark square lit only by two men carrying brands overhead. Yellow points gleamed from the forms of armored men between them, and the hall's chattering hum died as the group entered.
Hearth smoke laid a white haze through the spacious hall, sapping colors from the air, but still the lead man's bright yellow hair was unmistakably Konal's. Ulfrik's hirdmen had not dressed in mail, but stood with painted shields and spears to form a corridor through which Konal and his men would pass. Behind them, curious children peered through gaps or stout women raised on their toes to glimpse the new arrivals. The two torchbearers doused their brands at the door, and showed the men inside.
Konal led his small band, a russet-colored cloak covered him and he left his cowl drawn so that once he entered the fire-brightened hall shadows swallowed his face. His seven followers wore mail over their clothes, thought they bore no weapons, and followed Konal with their eyes lowered. Their armor jangled as they passed deeper into the hall, where Konal finally stopped before Ulfrik.
"Konal Ketilsson," Ulfrik proclaimed, standing in greeting. Runa slowly rose with him, as did Gunnar. "You have journeyed far to bring gladness to my hall. Be welcomed."
The hirdmen flowed behind the visitors, essentially trapping Konal and his men. Ulfrik could have waved them down, but he still did not know Konal's mind.
"My men and I come with peace in our hearts, Lord Ulfrik." He bowed, keeping his cowl up so that his bright hair spilled out as he leaned forward. "We humbly ask for your hospitality."
"Of course you shall have it." Ulfrik now waved his hirdmen back, and they slowly dropped their shields and faded back from the visitors. "You and your men will sit with me as honored guests. Come, share a meal with us."
"Do you remember me?" Gunnar stood forward, his eager face split with a smile. Ulfrik pressed a hand to his chest and shot him a frown. Despite his excitement, he had to demonstrate reserve as a leader. Gunnar tucked his head down and fell back, chastened.
Still, Konal only replied with a slow nod of his hooded head.
Ulfrik ordered his servants to begin serving the evening meal, and families and hirdmen shuffled amongst each other to find places at the tables. Talk began anew in the hall, yet most remained fixed upon the visitors, who had not moved. Runa and Ulfrik exchanged puzzled glances at Konal's inaction.
As he and the others took their seats, Ulfrik asked Konal to join him again. "What has brought you so far from home?"
Konal's head subtly turned to the man closest to him, a warrior with grizzled hair tied into a long braid. Their pause drew stares and the hall again grew silent.
"We have all come far to offer our oaths to the one man worthy of us." All of the men, Konal at their lead, bent to one knee and bowed their heads. "Let our lives be sworn to you and our swords fight for your banner."
Runa's gasp echoed Ulfrik's surprise, his own hand rising to his chest. Even Einar, who had thus far leaned back in indifference now raised his brow and sat straighter. Ulfrik's first instinct told him to deny the request, yet Konal had admirably served his wife and children in the past. The absence of his twin brother, Kell, made him wonder at Konal's motives.
"You do me a great honor," Ulfrik said, finding his words as the men remained kneeling before him. "We certainly have much to discuss before I can accept your offer. Come sit with us. You must have a story to share."
Konal and his men held their position for a moment, then Konal rose. As he did, he pulled the cowl from his head and again Ulfrik heard Runa gasp. The left side of Konal's face and all of his neck were terribly scarred. Ulfrik recognized it as burn scarring, Konal's skin ruined as if a flaming finger had stirred through his face turning it to white and red whorls of tortured meat. His beard no longer grew where flames had torn his neck.
"The story is both long and painful," he said. "And I will tell it in full, if you will hear it."
Chapter 7
Space at the high table was cleared and Konal sat opposite Ulfrik with his men shoulder to shoulder beside him. The meal was a soup of barley and leeks with chunks of mutton. Runa had sent Hakon and Aren to eat with others of their age at the far end of the table, while Snorri and Einar leaned in to hear the story. The steaming bowls sat beneath them, untouched as Konal related his tale. Ulfrik broke off a stiff piece of rye bread, dipped it into his soup, then chewed as he listened to Konal. He studied the man across from him, unflinching from the wounds etched into his flesh. After a life of war, he had seen far more hideous disfigurement. Instead he sought holes in the story, or signs that Konal intended something other than offering his oath.