He had described his life after returning to Ireland, and forsaking the recovery on their treasure. The details were inconsequential until he began to describe the familiar rivalries that develop between powerful jarls. He found himself grimly nodding to Konal's descriptions of the battles and betrayals he and his brother fought against family rivals.
"My father had grown too old to lead his hirdmen, and it fell to Kell and me. Our other brother had died in battle two months before our return, which my father believed was a sign from the gods. We had fared badly, and for all my father's ferocity, we could not hold the land. We'd been pushed back. Finally, we were trapped in our hall one night, all of us. My wife and daughters, Kell and his family, all of us. They arrived in the night, eliminated the guards, and burned us all inside. Me and the others sitting here tonight are the only survivors. All of us carry the scars of that night, though the gods have chosen to write my failing upon my face."
"It's no failure to survive a hall burning," Ulfrik said. "Few do."
Konal held his gaze a moment, as if weighing the comment as an insult. He filled the pause with a sip from his bowl, then continued. "I went back for Kell, into the fires of Muspelheim, but it was for nothing. I felt his death," Konal placed his hand on his heart, and Ulfrik noted the red scars circling his fingers. "I should've died with him, but my men pulled me out. Scattered before our enemy's spears, running like rabbits to the woods. We'd lost everything but one ship, and I took it with whomever else I could find to join me."
"And you came here?" Runa asked, her hand clutched upon her chest, echoing Konal.
"No, that was over a year ago. We hid in Ireland, nursed our wounds and let the scars form. The pain, I can tell you, never goes. One of our brothers threw himself overboard holding a rock, such was his agony." Several of his companions bowed their heads at the words. "After wasting months finding no place to welcome us, I decided to seek you out, Lord Ulfrik. I own only what I carry upon my back and a small, leaking ship. We've wearied of scurrying into dark holes like vermin every time a bigger ship appears on the horizon. None of us have family any longer, no more ties to Ireland. I thought of my time in your service, and realized this is the closest I have to family. In that, I am luckier than the men following me."
He shifted his gaze to Runa, then to Gunnar, finally fixing on the bowl before him. Ulfrik leaned back, refusing to look to either his son or his wife, though feeling their eyes on him. Instead he looked to both Snorri and Einar, who both sat with arms crossed and offered only a brief shrug.
"Your story is tragic, but all too familiar. Only a coward cannot face his enemies on the battlefield." Ulfrik offered the words both as sympathy and a test, since he had used a hall burning once in the events that led to his possessing Konal's treasure. If Konal recalled this detail, he made no sign but merely grunted and slurped his soup.
They passed the meal with lighter conversation, mostly led by Gunnar's memories of training with Konal back in Nye Grenner. Konal smiled and chuckled, but his preoccupation was obvious. Both Snorri and Einar asked pointed questions about Konal's fighting ability, which he offered to demonstrate at any time. "The burns have not taken the fight out of me. In fact, I feed on the pain in battle and let the rage carry me."
After the meal finished, benches and tables were pushed to the walls and families and hirdmen sought their places for sleep while some left for other beds. Konal patiently awaited Ulfrik's decision and his followers matched his decorum. They neither ate nor drank more than enough to sate their appetites, and remained seated placidly on their bench. As the groups broke up, Ulfrik sent Aren and Hakon to bed and in a brief moment of privacy had words with Runa.
"I don't like this," she whispered as she carried a sleeping Aren over her shoulder. "He is a good person, but what if he knows about …"
"And those are safely hidden where no one will find them except for us." Ulfrik placed his hand on her shoulder. He did worry that Konal suspected Ulfrik had his fortune in gems and somehow planned to obtain them. "He will not find them."
"It's not finding them I worry for; it's what he might do seeking them. Send him to another jarl. It's just too complicated with him here." As soon as she spoke the words, her eyes widened in surprised and a flush drew to her cheeks. Aren snored on her shoulder, and both were reminded that Konal was likely the boy's father. However, neither had ever given voice to the thought.
"I will speak with him and make my decision." He kissed Runa's head and sent her toward their private rooms. He returned to Konal, who waited expectantly, then asked him to walk with him outside the hall.
The night was chill and moon-bright. Points of orange flame showed where men stood at posts around the ringed stockade walls. A few dark shapes flitted between buildings as they strolled. At last Ulfrik stopped Konal as they entered the central square of the fortress.
"Your arrival is both fortuitous and burdensome. A famine has apparently taken hold about us, and more men to feed is no easy thing in the best of times. However, you are not so many that we will be undone. Your numbers will fill the losses that we cannot avoid. Men die in peace and war."
"How true," Konal agreed. Ulfrik held Konal's gaze steadfast and searched him for hints of defiance. Instead he saw the same shrewd, appraising look on Konal's face that he remembered from years before when they had first met. He had come outside to get the measure of Konal's intentions, but now his stomach tightened with the realization that the reverse was a truer statement of events. "Let me ask you, Lord Ulfrik, why do you hesitate when more fighting men and another ship come so many miles to follow you?"
"Because you have come so many miles, that is exactly the matter. Between Ireland and Frankia, there must be scores of jarls willing to take on a talented crew of warriors. Why bypass them to find me?"
"As I said, I am a man without family. My brother was the other half of my life, and with him gone I have no rudder. He was the best half of my life, and he showed me what to do and I did it. I don't want to lead, Lord Ulfrik, I want to follow. But I don't want to follow a fool. I did pass scores of them between Ireland and Ravndal."
He looked around, not waiting for Ulfrik's response, inhaling and admiring the fortress. "This was only just built when I left for home. It has prospered and the people here do not worry for food or safety. That is unlike most places in the world. So why is it unusual that I want to rejoin you?"
"There is little safety with Franks attacking the borders." Ulfrik shrugged, finding no good reason to deny Konal. Even if he intended harm, he was better watched up close than at a distance. "Very well, Konal, tomorrow you and your men will swear your oaths to me right in this square. Hundreds will witness and you will be welcomed here. I will find a place for you to live, but for now you may remain in my hall."
Konal folded his hands behind his back, simply nodding with deep satisfaction. Ulfrik smiled, though his hand touched the silver amulet of Thor's hammer hanging from his neck. He had lived too long to not recognize the hands of the gods at work, and he prayed their schemes would be merciful to him.
Chapter 8
Ulfrik surveyed the faces of the hirdmen arrayed before him. The hall was tight with their numbers, ranks of shadowed men with hard faces and deep scars, snarls full of fury and a smoldering battle-lust. The silence was heavy with the force of their presence, and only the errant flapping of window covers from the shallow breeze made any noise. All but the hird had been cleared from the hall. They had ushered inside the scouts and their news of Clovis's activity. Morning light flashed haphazardly as the hide covers swayed over the windows, distracting Ulfrik as he stood before his men.