"I don't have such riches," Ulfrik said through gritted teeth. In truth he could pay the ransom. However, now that he stood before Throst and saw the foolish boy and his equally stupid friends, he no longer believed Hakon was in serious danger. Throst wanted to extract revenge along with as much ransom as he could obtain. Killing Hakon would gain him nothing and end his life; for Ulfrik would have him cut down the moment he appeared from hiding. So in the end, Throst would accept whatever Ulfrik chose to give him and then flee.
"Such a shame that your son will die today, since you are not as wealthy as everyone believes." Throst shrugged as if he had just lost a friendly debate. "I suppose I'll just go back and strangle the little goat fucker until his eyes pop out. I'll leave his body someplace you can find it, like hanging from a tree or impaled on a spear."
Ulfrik had Throst by the throat before anyone could react. He crushed down on his neck as he pulled him closer. "Still that tongue or I'll string you up beside your father's rotten corpse."
The three men started forward but halted; Ulfrik did not need to see his archers to know their arrows aimed at the three.
"Your boy is dead," Throst managed to gasp as he squirmed helplessly in Ulfrik's grip. His haughty face now twisted in a deep red mask of desperation.
"Ten pounds of silver for the return of my son; that's more than enough for you and your mangy friends." Ulfrik shook Throst to emphasize his words. "And not one scratch or bruise upon him. If you keep those terms, I'll allow a half day's start to flee before I come for you. If Hakon is harmed or you kill him, you'd do well to hang yourself before I find you."
He cast aside Throst as if discarding a small fish back to its lake. Shaking and choking, Throst glanced at his men who now regarded him with a skeptical eye. Ulfrik smiled, knowing he had saved his son. He had shaken Throst's men, who now would want to get their silver and run rather than follow a fool of boy who would lead them to death.
"You underestimate me," Throst managed to wheeze, his face still red. "You'll soon learn who the real fool is."
"Tomorrow at dawn, I will bring your silver," Ulfrik said, unheeding of the empty threats. "Return my son and treat him well in the meantime. Then be ready to flee, for I will have your skull for a drinking mug not long after you take your silver."
He turned without care for Throst's reply and stalked back up the hill toward the archers. They kept arrows knocked as he strode across the yellow grass. Like his father, Throst could not resist a final word. He shouted from a safe distance, "Your pain is only just beginning. You will learn, Ulfrik, and I will be the one to teach you."
Chapter 19
At dawn of the following day, Ulfrik arrived at the base of the hill bearing ten pounds of silver in a deerskin sack. Pink light seeped into the clouds, and the frosted grass crunched beneath his feet. Arrayed behind him were thirty handpicked men, along with his closest family. Even Snorri fought the pain in his leg to witness Hakon's ransom. Ulfrik's breath curled into the air before his face, and he drew his cloak tighter around his neck.
Throst was not present, only a wiry Frank whose dark-circled eyes darted warily among the converging bulk of armed men. He huddled beneath a gray wool cloak too clean and fresh to be his own. His toes poked from holes in his boots and his pants had patches over patches.
Ulfrik's lip curled and his eyes drew to slits. "My son?"
"The place for the exchange has changed," the man said in heavily accented Norse. "I will lead you to it now."
His sword hummed as Ulfrik tore it from its sheath and pressed the point on the unarmed man's chest. "If it's a trap, you die; you know this, of course."
The lanky-haired Frank paled and flinched, but nodded slowly before turning to lead them to the north. Ulfrik kept him close and all thirty men followed with weapons drawn and eyes searching every direction for signs of a trap. Runa walked close behind, carrying Aren who fussed and complained about the cold wind. "Where's he taking us?" she asked as she caught up to him.
"Unless we're going to march half a day, he's not taking us farther than the edge of the woods or more likely one of the wider streams. He probably thinks a stream will delay our capturing him after he releases Hakon."
"Will it?" Runa asked.
He did not answer but began to consider the point of the relocation, which was obviously to shift advantage to Throst. Unless Throst had raised an army in the short time he had been gone, Ulfrik could not understand what threat he presented. As they traveled, Ulfrik tried to extract information from their guide, who refused to say more than he already had.
They turned west into hilly land that had long been cleared and now sprouted stumps and rocks in equal measure and the occasional crooked tree. The ground here was terrible for fighting, and Ulfrik had not considered it until their guide led them into a shallow valley between the hills. A smile came to his face as he guessed Throst's plan.
"So he thinks to use the land against us," he announced to the guide. "I'd already promised him half a day to flee before I pursued him. He doubts my word?"
The Frank stopped and regarded him with the wide eyes of a man who feared the next moment. Others noticed and swords hissed as the hirdmen unsheathed them. "Lord Ulfrik is to hang the sack on the lowest branch of that tree." He pointed to the lone beech tree that crowned a low hill, its sparse golden foliage clinging to its branches in the final days of autumn. "When Throst sees it, he will release your son."
"I don't like this," Snorri muttered beside Ulfrik. "What's this boy's game?"
"He wants to make a target of me for his hidden archers. I'd make a fine target against the morning sun, wouldn't you think?"
Snorri chuckled and Ulfrik raised the sack of silver to their guide. "You will fix it on the branch, and ten archers will have their arrows at your back the long walk up that hill. If you even stumble, I'll have you killed. String up my son's ransom and return directly to me, or I'll also have you killed. Do you understand?"
The Frank's mouth moved but no words formed. Ulfrik shoved the sack into the man's chest, knocking him back. He pressed it against him until the Frank folded it into his arms and started for the tree. Archers stepped to the fore and strung their bows. As soon as he departed, Ulfrik ordered ten men to follow close. "Keep in striking distance of the silver, in case Throst is stupid enough to try to grab the sack and run."
"He carries that sack as if it weighed a hundred pounds," said Toki, who stood with Snorri and Einar.
"It's because he sees his death coming," Ulfrik said, watching the Frank trudge uphill. "Throst sent him to die, either at my hands or his. To what end, we shall see."
They waited silently as the Frank wormed his way up the tree and struggled to balance the silver on the branch. The weight of it made for ungainly work and he nearly fell from the branch, but soon he had it secured and began trotting back down the hill, passing the group of hirdmen positioned beneath the crest of the hill.
A horn sounded from the opposite hill, and Ulfrik turned to see six ragged shapes emerge on the crest. They were black shadows against the sky. The giant among them identified them as Throst's group. Two more men crested the hill and held a struggling boy between them.
Throst's bright voice carried well across the distance. "You have my silver, Ulfrik?"
He pointed with his sword at the tree. Runa drew a sharp breath and grabbed his arm as Hakon struggled between his captors. Throst's laughter carried even across the distance. "I'm going to trust your word on this, Ulfrik. How do I know it's not a bag of rocks?"