"If you didn't have me hang it on a tree you could've seen it first, you fool," Ulfrik shouted back. "Of course I honor my word. Now bring me my son!"
More laughter echoed off the hills and Ulfrik felt his face grow hot. Runa's arm tightened around his as she strained to see Hakon, who continued to struggle. The Frank guide returned as instructed and stared at him for direction, but remained ignored.
"Stand down your men and lower your bows. Back them down hill and I'll send Hakon to you." Hakon's shadowed form grew still and Throst's shadow melded with it as he spoke to him.
Ulfrik waved down his archers and his men sidled down the hill until they were at the base, only then did Throst guide Hakon forward.
"You are an honorable man, Ulfrik. So here's your son." Throst punctuated his shouted words by shoving Hakon forward. His son's small body stumbled and he struggled to get to his feet, as his hands remained bound behind his back. "Remember your promise to give me a lead in eluding you."
The next instant, the rope snapped and the sack of silver plummeted to the ground where the small shadow of a man sprung up to catch it. Ulfrik wanted to order his men to capture Throst's henchman, but Hakon had not cleared Throst's reach.
Now Hakon staggered into the light, and Ulfrik noted a cloth sack was tied over his head. He did not seem to know which way to go to escape Throst. Ulfrik and his men began calling his name, even the Frankish guide began to yell. Hakon faced the noise and began to charge forward.
"That's not my son," Runa said softly. Ulfrik turned to her, saw the frown on her face and her shaking head. "That's not Hakon."
"How can you tell from here?" But Ulfrik watched the boy’s awkward gait and constant stumbling and suddenly shared his wife's suspicion. He broke from her grip and ran toward the boy. He did not understand why he had delayed, and cursed himself for letting Throst lull him into inaction.
Tripping and stumbling over rocks and dead branches, he met Hakon in the middle of the shallow valley. He was already shaking his head, hands trembling in frustration and rage when he unbound the sack from the boy's head and tore it away.
A boy of Hakon's age stared through swollen and blackened eyes at him. His mouth was crusted with dried blood and his lips were split. Ulfrik shoved the boy aside, and lurched forward. "After Throst! Move!"
Throst had chosen the ground with care and Ulfrik and his men struggled to mount the hills and once over the crest there was only a short sprint to the forest and eventually the Frankish border. Winded, he paused to study the tracks Throst had left, which peeled down the hill and would doubtlessly lead to the forest and then fade into the underbrush.
Within moments, others concluded the same and slowed their pursuit, gathering on Ulfrik who stood watching the forest. Throst could be tracked, but it would have to be a patient thing and not a rushed pursuit. Deadfalls and traps could await the unwary, and such a plan did not seem beyond Throst's cunning. He had already twice demonstrated the depth of his plotting. At the least, he had likely fled toward his hiding place and so gave Ulfrik a direction for this search.
The boy who had posed as Hakon now clasped to the Frankish guide's side, and the two were herded before Ulfrik. The man's face was streaked with tears as he enfolded the boy in his thin, dirty arms. Ulfrik's gaze darted between them, and he immediately understood the deceit.
"He is your son, not mine."
"Yes, Lord," the man said, his voice quivering with emotion. "He snatched us from our farm. My wife and daughters …" his voice trailed off and the man looked away as he searched for words.
"Killed?" Ulfrik offered, and the man shook his head. "Can you return to them?"
"Yes, but I don't know where we are. We are Franks from over the border. Look what he did to my son!" The man pressed open the boy's mouth, and Ulfrik saw the black stub of a tongue along with several broken teeth.
"So he can't tell us where Throst hides. And what of you? If you want revenge, tell me where Throst is."
The man babbled about how both had their heads covered and were only snatched a few days ago. "And I never heard another boy's voice the whole time."
"You and your son may recover in our home, and you will be free to return to your family." He dismissed them and met Runa's hard, worried stare. She looked at him as if Hakon had been found dead, and he drew her close and stroked her hair. She remained frozen and stiff, and like her, Ulfrik worried for the life of their son.
Chapter 20
Gunnar placed his feet on the bench and stripped away his boots. Cool air flowed over the red and hot flesh, and he wiggled his toes enjoying the refreshing cold. Ravndal's hall stood emptied of all but a few men and now in the afternoon only servants remained to tend to their chores. Gunnar sat by the entrance, eschewing the high table where his mother lingered with Uncle Toki's and Einar's daughters, telling them of the fruitless search for Hakon. Each girl held their pale hands either over their mouth or their chest as they listened. Gunnar focused on rubbing his feet, sore and bruised from kicking through rough forest terrain. He did not want to see any more sad faces or hear any more speculation on Hakon's fate. It hurt too much to think upon it.
The sweet scent of fresh wood on the hearth fire reminded him of how Hakon enjoyed stoking the flames and throwing dried twigs into it. Every young boy was fascinated with fire, and his brother was no exception. Gunnar sat back on the bench and sighed. He had vowed not to dwell on his brother's memory every moment, but he found it impossible to prevent. This debacle was his doing, and though no one blamed him, he knew it was so. His father, whenever he could spare a glance for him, accused Gunnar with his eyes. His father's every word, no matter how trivial, held an icy accusation within it. Nothing had to be spoken for Gunnar to clearly hear what should have been said aloud: "Your brother was in your care and you failed in your duty. Now look at what has become of him."
His mother's update with the girls ended in a flurry of waving hands and sighs, and he was certain his cousins glanced his way. Runa left Aren with them and retired to her room, and his brother immediately peeled off to sit alone and stare at Gunnar across the hall. He was the strangest child Gunnar knew. His eyes were intelligent but cold; he too often guessed a man's thoughts; and did not play with anyone. In fact, he did not seem capable of playing but only of hitting and biting, and more recently manipulating. Were he not a jarl's son, Gunnar figured Aren would be mercilessly teased. Knowing some of the children of this hall, Gunnar expected Aren would nevertheless be tested in secret. Yet another duty to protect that fell on Gunnar's shoulders. He returned to massaging his feet, shaking his head at the thought.
"So it is true. You've returned before the others." The bright and soothing voice of his love, Astra, came from over his shoulder.
He whirled on the bench to face her standing in the hall door with a basket of fresh leeks laced over her arm. Her smile was clear and white, her face wide and pale and without a blemish. She filled him with immediate joy merely standing before him.
"It's more like dismissed from my father's presence," he said. "My mother could not take searching any longer, and so Father told me to see her home."
"Now that doesn't sound like a dismissal," Astra countered as she entered the hall, closing the door behind her. The backlight had bleached Gunnar's vision a moment, but now he could see her full beauty. She was every bit the traditional Norse woman despite being half-Frankish. She was tall with wide hips but a tapered waist. She wore a traditional head covering that could not diminish the brightness of her golden hair. She swept into the room and laid her basket aside as she sat upon the bench beside him. What Gunnar appreciated most was the delicacy of her movements, which he found endlessly fascinating and delightful. He could not imagine a more beautiful woman than Astra, and now she sat beside him on the bench.