Read Online Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) by Jerry Autieri - Free Book Online
Authors: Jerry Autieri
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the Northman prisoner who was a boy no older than eight years by Amand's appraisal. At first sight he recognized the regal bearing in the child. His clear face was tipped back in defiance and his chest was puffed out, all like a miniature caricature of the Northman bravado. The priest guided him by the shoulders to stand between the two grown Northmen, but the boy pulled himself free and stood with arms folded across his chest.
Grimnr growled something in the bestial language of the Northmen, and the boy scowled at him. Amand could not conceive of a less elegant way of speaking. After a repeated command, Grimnr forced the boy to his knees. Amand gave slight smile. The boy had determination, an admirable quality though wasted on one in his position.
"I assume from the size of this captive he is a son of someone important? Don't tell me children are leading the barbarians now." Amand laughed at his own joke, his priest the only other to join him in it.
The captain moved before Count Amand, bowing before he spoke. "Lord, our patrol overtook a traveling party of thirty Northmen yesterday. I will spare my lord the details of the encounter, but we overcame the barbarians and captured this boy. We knew he was important from the way his companions guarded him. We not only captured him, but a chest of gold as well."
"Indeed God is good to us," Amand said. "So who is our young captive?"
Eskil shared a glance with Grimnr then stepped forward, bowing his head just enough to satisfy protocol. Amand stifled a sigh; these Northmen can never be civilized, only trained to not bite the hand that feeds them.
"He is Halfdan, son of Mord Guntherson," Eskil said.
Count Amand sat up straighter. "You mean Hrolf the Strider's second?"
"Mord's father is Gunther One-Eye, who is Hrolf's second. But Mord is as close to Hrolf as any man can be." Eskil looked at Grimnr, who shrugged.
"I don't know these men," Grimnr said. "I joined with you, Count Amand, not my countrymen."
The captain stepped in front of the others again. "It was Mord's men we killed, Lord. I imagine they were returning with collected taxes or tribute, and for whatever reason his son was among them. The boy has refused to give us any details, though I can encourage that if you wish."
Amand waved away his captain's hint of torture and regarded the boy. He appeared to understand, but feigned indifference. Such a hostage was useful leverage. Maybe he could turn Mord on Hrolf, or at least convince him to stay at home when Count Amand's armies went to battle. God had put an important pawn into his hands, and he had to consider carefully what moves the piece could make for him.
"Yes, God is good," Amand said, more to himself than anyone else. "Send word to Mord that we have his son and inform him Halfdan will be well cared for while I determine how to proceed. He has my word upon it. Of course, should Mord attempt any violence against us, warn him I will rescind my word."
"Right away, my lord." The captain bowed with a flourish.
The boy, Halfdan, squinted at Amand as if daring him to do his worst.
"You have a strong spirit," the count said with a smile. "Learn to hide it better or you will discover how easily it can be broken. You are not too young for that lesson, and I will be glad to teach it."
Halfdan's thin lips trembled, and Count Amand laughed.
#
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Ulfrik had expected, Finn was no longer coherent. His speech had been reduced to a rubble of grunts and moans, mostly elicited whenever the cart crossed a rut or hump which now felt like every foot of the miles they had covered. The gray sky sprinkled light rain on them as Ulfrik pulled up to Hrolf's settlement. Seeing its high stockade walls atop a steep slope of earth returned a dozen memories to Ulfrik, some happy and others less so. He prayed for a happy day as he drove his cart toward the east gate.
"We're almost there," Ulfrik said over his shoulder to Finn. "Just hang on."
Finn answered him with
Grimnr growled something in the bestial language of the Northmen, and the boy scowled at him. Amand could not conceive of a less elegant way of speaking. After a repeated command, Grimnr forced the boy to his knees. Amand gave slight smile. The boy had determination, an admirable quality though wasted on one in his position.
"I assume from the size of this captive he is a son of someone important? Don't tell me children are leading the barbarians now." Amand laughed at his own joke, his priest the only other to join him in it.
The captain moved before Count Amand, bowing before he spoke. "Lord, our patrol overtook a traveling party of thirty Northmen yesterday. I will spare my lord the details of the encounter, but we overcame the barbarians and captured this boy. We knew he was important from the way his companions guarded him. We not only captured him, but a chest of gold as well."
"Indeed God is good to us," Amand said. "So who is our young captive?"
Eskil shared a glance with Grimnr then stepped forward, bowing his head just enough to satisfy protocol. Amand stifled a sigh; these Northmen can never be civilized, only trained to not bite the hand that feeds them.
"He is Halfdan, son of Mord Guntherson," Eskil said.
Count Amand sat up straighter. "You mean Hrolf the Strider's second?"
"Mord's father is Gunther One-Eye, who is Hrolf's second. But Mord is as close to Hrolf as any man can be." Eskil looked at Grimnr, who shrugged.
"I don't know these men," Grimnr said. "I joined with you, Count Amand, not my countrymen."
The captain stepped in front of the others again. "It was Mord's men we killed, Lord. I imagine they were returning with collected taxes or tribute, and for whatever reason his son was among them. The boy has refused to give us any details, though I can encourage that if you wish."
Amand waved away his captain's hint of torture and regarded the boy. He appeared to understand, but feigned indifference. Such a hostage was useful leverage. Maybe he could turn Mord on Hrolf, or at least convince him to stay at home when Count Amand's armies went to battle. God had put an important pawn into his hands, and he had to consider carefully what moves the piece could make for him.
"Yes, God is good," Amand said, more to himself than anyone else. "Send word to Mord that we have his son and inform him Halfdan will be well cared for while I determine how to proceed. He has my word upon it. Of course, should Mord attempt any violence against us, warn him I will rescind my word."
"Right away, my lord." The captain bowed with a flourish.
The boy, Halfdan, squinted at Amand as if daring him to do his worst.
"You have a strong spirit," the count said with a smile. "Learn to hide it better or you will discover how easily it can be broken. You are not too young for that lesson, and I will be glad to teach it."
Halfdan's thin lips trembled, and Count Amand laughed.
#
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Ulfrik had expected, Finn was no longer coherent. His speech had been reduced to a rubble of grunts and moans, mostly elicited whenever the cart crossed a rut or hump which now felt like every foot of the miles they had covered. The gray sky sprinkled light rain on them as Ulfrik pulled up to Hrolf's settlement. Seeing its high stockade walls atop a steep slope of earth returned a dozen memories to Ulfrik, some happy and others less so. He prayed for a happy day as he drove his cart toward the east gate.
"We're almost there," Ulfrik said over his shoulder to Finn. "Just hang on."
Finn answered him with
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