Winds of Fate Page 27

  “Jarl Hagen, we’re here,” Flosy said, shaking me by the shoulder.

  He could have spared himself the effort—his stink worked just as well as any smelling salts I’ve ever come across. Sweet mother! He and I had spent almost a week together, and I couldn’t figure out why the smell wasn’t fading.

  I pulled myself up off the deck, shook the cobwebs out of my head, and looked around. We’d sailed into a small…bay? It was separated from the sea by a rocky ridge, behind which was a looming cliff. There was another cliff in front of us. It was an enormous pool, in other words. The Sea Kings were right; this is the perfect spot for an ambush.

  “Hold it up!” came the command from Hrolf.

  The oars flashed in the water, and the drakkar eased to a halt.

  “Gunnar!” bellowed Hrolf. “See that rock that looks like a troll head? There’s a small cove right behind it! Wait there for that bastard the Crooked!”

  Gunnar, who was standing amidships on his Orca, nodded and barked some orders. The drakkar began to drift backward.

  “Froky,” Short-legged continued, “head over there behind the ridge. We’ll be hidden there.”

  The tall jarl didn’t even nod in response; all he did was gesture toward his helmsman.

  “Okay, what else?” Hrolf patted his stomach. “Ah. One-eyed, Bear Cub, get over here!”

  Two warriors matching their names to the letter—one large and clumsy, the other with a patch over his left eye—walked over to the jarl.

  Hrolf glared at them. “Okay, listen up. Pull all that metal off you and swim over to that cliff. I want you to sit there and wait until you see Torsfel’s sails.”

  The pair nodded.

  “As soon as you see them, wave at us or something. Just make sure they don’t notice you. Okay?”

  They nodded again and jumped to work.

  “Excellent,” the jarl exhaled happily.

  “You have a sense of humor, Hrolf,” I said, walking over to him. “Sending a one-eyed man as a lookout.”

  “His one eye is worth any five pairs of good eyes, and he’s sharp, too,” Hrolf responded. The pride he had in his hird shone in his voice.

  “You’re the jarl; you know better,” I agreed.

  “By the way, Jarl,” asked Gunther, who was staring thoughtfully at the nearby shoreline. “Where can you get to by land from here?”

  “You can get wherever you want to by land or sea,” Hrolf answered philosophically. “Which do you prefer?”

  “I just think that Torsfel might see that we have the upper hand and try to make a run for it on land.”

  “A Sea King, even a pig like Torsfel, running on land?” The jarl was dubious. “Although…a pig like him might just try that. He knows very well what’s waiting for him if we catch him alive.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. So, where does the road from the shore lead?”

  I peered at the coast. Nothing special. There was a narrow sandy spit, boulders, a small forest behind them, and then a mountain peak jutting upward in the background. And who knows what’s behind the mountain…

  “To the mountain,” Hrolf responded predictably. “And, to answer your next question, it’s easy to get past the mountain. You can climb it or take the path through it—up to you.”

  I shivered when he mentioned going through the mountain. Here I was just starting to forget…

  “Maybe we shouldn’t risk it. You won’t get much use from me in a sea battle,” Gunther noted, “but I could head to shore and make sure he doesn’t get away there. And if you send a dozen warriors with me…”

  “I can’t give you a dozen,” the jarl cut back sharply. “We need every sword we can get. I’ll give you five.”

  “I’m with you,” I quickly said. “Flosy, too.”

  “Do you have some kind of boat? I’m not a big fan of the water.” Flosy had no qualms about my decision and instead jumped straight into the details of the plan.

  “What boats would there be on a drakkar?” Hrolf asked, spreading his arms. “We’ll get a little closer to shore, and you can jump in, but that’s it. We’ll figure out how to pick you up after the battle. Well, if you’re there to pick up and we’re here to pick you up.”

  “My armor,” groaned Gunther.

  “What did you think?” I asked mercilessly. “That’s what you get for taking the initiative.”

  The Sea Kings obviously didn’t give their plans a second thought. No sooner was the phrase spoken than Hrolf gave the command to the helmsman to bank toward the coast. Five warriors were quickly chosen to accompany us, although, to my eye, they looked to be the runts of the litter.

  “On land, you’ll be following Jarl Hagen’s orders. His word there is as good as mine here,” he added at the end of his instructions. The fighters nodded.

  Look at that—I’m well on my way to being a great warlord. Seven men under my command already.

  Before we dove into the water, I took one look at Flosy’s pained expression and quietly asked Gunther a question. “Are you really that excited about the mission, or are you just trying to get Flosy washed off a little?”

  “The mission is an important one as well,” he responded tactfully.

  There was no telling what he really thought since Gunther von Richter was as polite as they come.

  When Flosy hit the water, von Richter and I, without having discussed it beforehand, both jumped in behind him and did our best to douse him with as much water as we could. And he needed it. The relentless heat from the sun was at least broken by a breeze on board the ship, but the air was still and quiet on land. The waves I’d seen that morning had been left behind in Falderhall. The surf was feeble and weak where we were.

  Hrolf’s helmsman was a master of his craft, and he’d been able to pull the drakkar very close to shore. The water, it turned out, only rose to our waists. I’d been afraid Flosy’s splash would be followed by the rest of us gurgling down to the bottom, and I didn’t think he would have saved us. He had annoyance written all over his face as he pulled himself onto the shore.

  “Don’t make any tracks in the sand,” Gunther quickly said. “It’s bright, so anyone will be able to see for miles that someone walked here.”

  We ran to the boulders protruding in front of the forest and hid behind them, doing our best to follow in each other’s footprints.

  I looked back at the drakkar to see that it was quickly sweeping away in the direction of the far cliff. Then I glanced down at the shore and shook my head.

  “Flosy, tear off a couple of those burdock branches and go brush out our tracks,” I ordered.

  His eyebrows lowered, but he obeyed without question.

  Suddenly, I heard a rattling and clapping accompanied by suppressed guffaws. I turned and saw what really was a funny picture. Gunther was jumping around trying to get the water out of his steel shoes. I wasn’t sure what else to call them. It looked like he was in the middle of a rousing Caucasian dance and was just about to shout out the finale.

  The hirdmen, who had already taken off their leather boots, found the whole thing incredibly funny, as they rolled on the grass in laughter. They apparently had the same idea I did, as one of them started clapping out a rhythm. The fiery glances Gunther threw their way didn’t bother them in the least.

  A little while later, Flosy came back muttering to himself, lay down on the grass, placed his ax next to him, and fell instantly asleep. Even Gunther gave up on the discomfort and sat down next to me.

  “Hey,” I said to him, “you never told me if you found anything interesting in Ingvar’s house. Did you go?”

  “Yes,” von Richter answered melancholically. “There wasn’t anything interesting there to find. It was like nobody had even been there.”

  “But you could tell that he’d spent the night, right?” I asked.

  “Yes, but he must have spent it sitting in a chair. He didn’t drink tea, didn’t eat anything. He didn’t even go to the bathroom—our friend told me
that, and he’s the expert.”

  I couldn’t fault Flosy’s qualifications on that point either. To be fair, I wasn’t very surprised by Gunther’s verdict, as I was starting to realize what was going on. The riddle was starting to fall into place. I just need to have a chat with Ulfrida… The hints Zimin and Valyaev had given me, strange as they were, really had nudged me in the right direction.

  “Jarl, someone’s coming,” one of the hirdmen whispered.

  Swords slowly slid out of their sheaths. Flosy lazily opened an eye and groped for his ax.

  “It’s Gunnar’s people,” someone said, this time louder. “I know that one, it’s Hegny the Cod; we were on Henderson’s drakkar together. Hey, Hegny, over here.”

  Three warriors and, to our surprise, a mage named Sufor from my clan walked over.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked them. Who else was going to ask?

  “Gunnar mentioned how unpredictable Torsfel is,” explained one of the newcomers, apparently the very same Hegny. “So, he sent us here to keep an eye on things. The cute one gave us a mage since he won’t be much use on the ship and he can send a signal to the jarl from here if anything happens.”

  Sufor frowned, apparently frustrated with the role he’d been assigned.

  “Come on now,” I said, giving him a friendly shove in the shoulder. “It’s true—you see how calm everything is. One spark, and we’d all go up in flames.”

  “I guess old Hrolf sent you here,” Hegny continued.

  “Yep,” confirmed one of the hirdmen. “That one in the iron said the same thing, so Hrolf sent us to help the jarl.”

  “Jarl,” Hegny said, coming over to me. “You’ll tell us what to do, right?”

  I nodded, struck once more by how strict the hierarchy in the North was. They said I was a jarl, so a jarl I must be. End of story.

  Sufor took up a position next to me, and, I thought, gave me some apprehensive sideways glances.

  “Oh, stop it,” I said to him. “I won’t eat you.”

  “Laird, I’m going to grab a few winks.” Gunther plopped down on my other side, his armor clanging on the rocks. “Wake me up when the enemy gets here.”

  “Of course. I’ll give you a kick.” I turned back to Sufor.

  “Are you really friends with him?” he asked in surprise.

  “I really am.” I smiled. “And with that one, too. Although to be honest, he’s more my servant.”

  Flosy was sleeping again, his clothes giving off a light steam.

  “You know; it happens. Just believe me, and don’t give me any of that crap,” I said, cutting off the inevitable but they’re NPCs I knew was coming. “I have a better question; why didn’t any of the clan elite come? Where are Lis, Krolina, Romuil, and the rest?”

  Sufor hemmed and hawed, smiled crookedly, and wiggled where he was sitting.

  “You look like a cat after it goes to the bathroom, all that fidgeting,” I said, pushing him to give me the truth. “Out with it.”

  “They left,” he said finally. “Almost all the clan veterans are gone.”

  “Wait, really?” To say I was surprised would have been an understatement. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve heard they don’t really like the direction the clan is going. They said we didn’t just lay down in front of the Hounds; we spread our legs for them, too. At least, that’s what someone told me.”

  “Don’t worry about it; it all makes sense.” I patted his shoulder. “They said their piece, Elina yelled at them that they were welcome to leave, Gerv had her back, and they up and left.”

  Sufor shrugged evasively, leaving me to believe whatever I wanted.

  “Got it.” I laughed. “So, now you’re the new clan elite?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Yeah, with that Iron Doofus at its head, the clan won’t be going far.” I sincerely felt bad for the Thunderbirds.

  “He really is an unbelievable jerk,” Sufor agreed. “But there are good people, too.”

  “Of course. You don’t happen to know where the veterans went, do you?” That was what interested me the most. I could have asked them myself, of course, but inside info is always nice to have.

  “People are saying different things.” Sufor leaned toward me. “But I heard from a very good source that most of them joined the Wild Hearts.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.”

  One of my troops came up to us. “Jarl, there are sails on the horizon. It’s definitely them; they have Torsfel’s green stripes.”

  I nudged Gunther, who had just fallen asleep. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”

  “Oh, come on,” he muttered. “Are they here already?”

  “Yep.”

  I peeked above a boulder and saw two sails making their way toward the lagoon. That’s probably the best name for it, actually, but it’s an odd one for a wild Northern spot like this.

  A white rag waved from up where our spies were perched, and I could see them getting ready to slide back down so they wouldn’t be seen. I imagined the chests of weapons being opened onboard the drakkars, the hirdmen putting on their armor. The battle was about to begin.

  “Okay, listen, men,” I said. “Someone kick that one!”

  Flosy woke up, and everyone looked at me expectantly.

  “Here’s how it’s going to go down,” I said, sniffing sternly. “We aren’t here. And we won’t be here until someone tries to come ashore. Until then, we sit, wait, and watch.”

  “And if they try?” asked Sufor. “I mean, what do we do if someone tries to land?”

  “If that happens, our job is to make sure they don’t make it to the forest.” I jabbed a finger in the direction of the trees. “If they get that far, they’re gone, since we don’t have the numbers to go looking for them. Plus, Torsfel will get away by the time backup gets here.”

  “Agreed,” nodded Gunther. “Also, we need to have several lines of defense here on the shore. That’s the only way it will work.”

  “Understood. You four,” I said, pointing at the largest Northerners, “will be in the front line. You two, Flosy and I will be in the second, and Sufor, Gunther, and the rest will be up against the boulders.”

  The hirdmen nodded, and Sufor followed suit, but Gunther shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be in the first line. I need space to work.”

  “That’s fine,” I responded. “But let me remind everyone that we need Torsfel alive. If we kill him, Gunnar will skin us all. He can be hurt, but not too badly. Also, there will be a girl with him, and she can’t be harmed. I don’t care if you all die—she has to live. Sufor, you can only send fireballs along the coast. I don’t want you accidentally shooting something out over the waves and sinking one of our ships. If we pull everything off, I’ll buy you all a cask of ale.”

  The hirdmen grinned and murmured to each other.

  “Shut up! The jarl is talking!” Flosy snapped at them. “The first mention of ale and you have to make some noise.”

  The hubbub died away. I focused on the scene unfolding in front of us. When the ships slipped into the lagoon, I could feel all the eyes watching them—the group at the Raidion office, the pair up across from us in the rocks, the jarls, and all the hirdmen on the three ships.

  The drakkars were right in front of our boulders when we saw them break out in a scurry of movement. I glanced to the right and saw Gunnar’s ship easing out from behind the cliff.

  “Hey, Torsfel! I’ve been looking to have a chat with you for a while!” we heard Gunnar’s voice boom out across the water.

  “Well, you found me! What now? What did you want to talk about? Or did you think your little tub and a few cripples would scare me?” That must have been Torsfel.

  “Well, I did ask a few friends to join us! But look at you, bravely standing… Wait, why aren’t you on your drakkar’s deck?” Gunnar retorted mockingly.

  A horn blared out across the lagoon, and those on the two drakkars with blu
e and green sails noticed their two other opponents.

  “You little cowards!” roared Torsfel, still hidden from sight. “Just three ships? Or did you think that would be enough to send me to the underworld?”

  “For you, it’ll work!” called back Hrolf.

  The drakkars quickly narrowed the distance between them. Torsfel’s best option, of course, would have been to turn around and try to get past or even sink Gunnar’s lone drakkar, but moving the rowers and changing the helm would have taken precious time. Old Hrolf had set things up perfectly. There was no room to maneuver in the lagoon, with the bank on the starboard side and the cliff to port. Torsfel’s only choice was to keep sailing forward toward the two ships waiting for him.

  What happened when the ships got alongside each other was like nothing I’d ever seen in the movies. Gangways were instantly thrown over the sides, with warriors leaping up, rushing at each other, and getting pushed into the water. Given the chainmail they were all wearing, their chances of avoiding death by drowning were slim to none. Nobody wanted to fight on their own deck, and so they all did their best to push onto the opposing deck. Grappling lines were flung into the rigging to let them swing across the gap between ships. The clash of steel on steel rang out. Voices yelled and swore, the sounds of battle and death echoing across the waves. Second by second, more of them dropped into the water, some with a cry and others silently. Nobody resurfaced.

  The two sides looked evenly matched. Neither gave ground to the other, with both masses pushing into the other, and it was just then that Gunnar’s drakkar caught up to Torsfel’s 32-oar monster.

  Gunnar led his men over the sided of the ship, joining the battle and tilting the scale in our favor. The attackers began to push forward relentlessly.

  “Jarl, look!” Hegny poked me.

  A medium-sized boat had been shoved away from Torsfel’s second ship, which took us by surprise. The Sea Kings, as I’d just learned, don’t take boats on board with them. I guess that’s Torsfel’s insurance policy. Gunnar hadn’t seen him on the deck because he’d been below deck on his second ship getting ready to make a run for it. He could tell the battle was ours.