Killing his father and tossing Throst and his family across the border let Ulfrik believe he had finished them. Yet, he had not paused to consider friendships and other relatives. He had even appeared bored at the execution of Throst's father, as if impatient to dispense his duties. Throst's father still swung from the hanging tree, and he planned to ensure Ulfrik would regret that day. Whatever people had thought of his father, Throst had friends left behind and some who had owed him life debts. One such man watched the western gate, and had abused his position to extract bribes from the vulnerable. Contacting him had been too simple, and after Einar had beaten him nearly to death, he was all too eager to help.
Tonight he found the gate ajar and no one watching the approaches for a lone traveler. One man can often go where many cannot. His father had told him so, though it was his excuse for sneaking about and robbing others. Throst had grander designs.
He roused from his thoughts as the two boys came into view. Murky light rendered them indistinct, though the fine clothing of one of them was more than enough to confirm for Throst that his young accomplice had succeeded.
"It's just this way," said the accomplice, a brown-haired, lanky boy of seven or eight years. "Hurry up before it gets dark."
The other boy, Throst's prey, hesitated. Throst felt his heart flop at the pause, but the accomplice was talented. "I know it's scary, but you said you weren't afraid of dead things. This body has been dead forever, just bones. Come on and see it."
"I should tell my father first." Hakon's voice was thin and frightened, but at the same time Throst could see him looking into the shadows to see what waited.
"Our parents would only ruin this. Hurry up. Just behind this building. I'll go first." Throst watched the boy skip around the corner, and call back to Hakon. "See, it's safe. You're not afraid, are you?"
"No," Hakon replied in a small voice. He crept forward and the accomplice led him back step by step.
"See, nothing happened."
"But where's the skeleton?"
Throst leapt from the shadow and slammed the bag of rocks over Hakon's head. He crumbled like a brittle twig and gave no sound other than a moan once he hit the ground. Throst bashed him again, not certain how hard he needed to hit a small boy until knocked out. Blood flowed from Hakon's nose, so Throst stopped and crouched to find Hakon's pulse. He pressed the soft neck until he felt a throb beneath his finger.
"That was good work," he told his accomplice. "Help me get him in the sack."
Throst unrolled a large, heavy linen sack and laid out a length of rope. Both he and the boy glanced around as they gagged Hakon and then folded him into the bag.
"You've got my reward?" the accomplice asked. He was a half-Frank named Atli whose father had died and left him with only a dumb sister. Throst had used his contact to arrange for the boy's complicity.
"Yes, here it is," Throst said as he reached into the folds of his robe. Atli extended his hand. Throst seized it and yanked the boy to him. In one deft motion, he snapped Atli's neck, the crack no louder than stepping on a branch in the forest. He followed Atli to the ground as he died, and laid him against the back of the building where shadow now engulfed them. "You'll keep my secret better if you're dead."
With his grizzly work complete, he hefted Hakon over his shoulder and accompanied the shadows of the walls back to the gate. Night had fallen and the risk of tripping and revealing himself demanded he tread carefully. Once a guard in heavy leather armor and a shield glided by with a guttering torch, but he held his breath until the guard rounded a building. At last Throst arrived at the gate and his contact awaited him.
"Olaf," he whispered, "is it safe?"
The man named Olaf leapt at the voice from the shadow, and Throst shook his head in disgust. Such jitters were not only unseemly but would draw attention. His contact nodded, his shape a black mass rimmed only by a faint glow of torches on the walls. His bulky form was filled out with a sword and shield as well as a large sack tossed over his shoulder. He stepped closer, and his face was revealed in the light. Throst had not seen him up close since his beating, but now the swelling and bruises were accented in the shadows. He looked like a walrus without tusks.
"We've only got a short time before the others return. Hurry."
Throst hefted Hakon again, the boy giving a murmur and shifting in the bag, and crept forward while scanning the area. No one was close, everyone gone to their halls as the last light of the day fled. "You are coming with me?"
"Well, I can't stay here," said the man named Olaf, his swollen eyes barely opening with his shock at Throst's question. "Once they know what happened, they'll come looking for me. So is that Ulfrik's kid?"
Throst patted the sack. "It is. I suppose you're right about leaving. I could use another fighting man too. But if you follow me back, you must swear an oath of service."
"Yeah, anything," said Olaf, as he began to back toward the gate. "Whatever it takes to get out from Einar and Ulfrik and hurt them on the way."
"Oh, I'll hurt him," Throst said, smiling. "Now let's get this kid out of here before anyone knows he's gone. They'll be looking for him now, and we've got to flee."
Barely cracking the gate, Olaf slipped out and Throst followed. It was all he could do not to laugh with delight, and once Ravndal was no more than a dark smear crowned with points of torchlight, he did laugh and dreamed of the riches and revenge that lay ahead.
Chapter 16
The hall was filled to capacity now that Toki and Konal had added their crews to the evening meal. Runa moved among the press of people, hirdmen and craftsmen and others who Ulfrik favored. Their voices joined together into a tumultuous din that Runa found both comforting and bothersome. Loud, friendly talk was a sign of good times, but the demands of overseeing so many tired her. She slid past two red-faced men in the early stages of a shoving match that would result in one of the many quick fights that punctuated each night. Fighting men never knew when to stop fighting, she thought as she passed them for the high table.
Ulfrik sat flanked by Toki and Einar with Snorri and Konal opposite, and the square of men were talking over each other and laughing like boys. Runa's smile faded as she skimmed past Halla, who sat with her two girls at the far end of the table. Over the years she had thought Halla no longer mattered to her, but as soon as Runa reunited with her brother's wife, all the old feelings rushed back. She hated the woman, and it was mutual.
Putting aside the thought, Runa circled around the table to where Aren waited patiently and alone. He studied her as she approached, his icy eyes alive with an intelligence that made him different from all the other children. As she sat next to him, she patted his head and could not resist a glance at Konal, who appeared to be straining not to look at her. "Where are your brothers?"
Aren did not answer, but pointed across the hall to where Gunnar stood at the far end. Over the tousled hair of the men and the covered heads of the women lining the benches, Runa saw her son with a girl. The two stood too close together and Aren noted his mother's reaction with his own observation. "She is not as pretty as other girls that like Gunnar."
"What's her name?" Runa asked, recognizing the face but little else. Then she realized Aren's comment was beyond a child of his age. "And who told you that?"
Aren shrugged and looked away. When Runa turned back to Gunnar, he was already alone and pushing toward the high table. When he arrived, he ignored his father and the other men and slid up to Runa's side without anything more than a mumble.
"Where's Hakon?"