Read Online Sword Brothers by Jerry Autieri - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jerry Autieri
Tags: Historical fiction, Historical, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Norse & Icelandic
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King of Western Frankia, it is in my purview to offer you a treaty. Provided that Jarl Hrolf the Strider agrees to become my vassal and that he be baptized in the light of Christ Our Lord, then I shall cede all lands and the subjects therein from the Epte River to the coast. This includes the territories of Caux, Talon, Roumois, Evrecin, and Vexin. He shall be named Count of Rouen and rule in my name with my authority."
Ulfrik's head spun. The offer was tempting. Each year they fought harder but conquered less territory. Peace would be welcomed by many. Becoming a count would set Hrolf above all the petty jarls south of his territory, and in fact bring them into conflict. He did not know how he felt about this choice. Hrolf might be trading peace with the Franks to make enemies of his own kin. Yet the choice was not his to make, and from Hrolf's grin, Ulfrik knew how his jarl had decided.
"That is a fair exchange. Let it be witnessed here, by my old gods and the new god, that I swear to be your loyal bondsman and protect your rule in exchange for the land and title promised me."
The oath hit Ulfrik like a punch. Such plain-spoken words, yet they forged the start of a new rule in Frankia. No more were any of them invaders, but now Franks themselves--at least in name. The thought made him numb.
The false smile returned to King Charles's thin lips. He stood straighter and his eyes glinted in triumph. The priest who had lingered behind his monarch now came forward and addressed Hrolf.
"Oaths are not enough to secure this treaty. You must perform an act of homage and fealty to consecrate it."
"An oath is all I need make. A man who breaks his oath is no man at all. What is this act?"
"You must kiss the foot of your king."
"No. As I swore the day I took up my sword, I will never kneel before another man, nor kiss anyone's foot."
"It must be done," the priest insisted. King Charles placed his foot forward in the grass.
"Let a man who represents me do this," Hrolf said. "It is enough respect that the best and longest serving of my men kiss your foot."
Gunther One-Eye stirred beside Ulfrik, and Mord whispered to his father, "You can still see enough to manage it without me."
Then Hrolf called out his choice, "Ulfrik, perform this act in my name."
The choice surprised Ulfrik, and he felt his face warm as Gunther quietly stepped back. To hesitate would bring shame to Hrolf, so Ulfrik stepped up to King Charles and knelt before him.
The king wore soft shoes of leather that appeared as if he had never worn them before this occasion. Ulfrik stared at the foot, and the priest urged him to perform the rite. "Kiss the king's foot as a sign of homage. What are you waiting for?"
Ulfrik reached down and carefully lifted the king's foot from the grass. As he hunched forwards, lips pursed, he felt his stomach clenching in revulsion and anger. Is this what these Franks demand of their warriors, he thought. To see how willing their best men are to debase themselves to prove their loyalty? As he held the king's foot, he decided how he would demonstrate his loyalty.
He lifted the foot, brushed his lips against it, then continued to raise it.
King Charles the Simple lost his balance as Ulfrik raised the foot past his head and sent the king sprawling into the grass. Hrolf and all his hirdmen burst into raucous laughter. Ulfrik stood over the king, his crown askew on his head and eyes wide in disbelief. The Franks gasped and men surged forward to aid their king. Ulfrik returned to his own, offering the fallen monarch a shallow bow.
Tears of laughter stained Hrolf's cheeks and he grabbed Ulfrik into a bear hug. "You acted for all of us. I could not have done better."
Men patted his back and congratulated him. He felt the warm glow of satisfaction, and it deepened as King Charles raged at the men helping him to his feet. He glared at Hrolf as he straightened the crown on his head.
"There is the act of fealty and homage, my king," Hrolf
Ulfrik's head spun. The offer was tempting. Each year they fought harder but conquered less territory. Peace would be welcomed by many. Becoming a count would set Hrolf above all the petty jarls south of his territory, and in fact bring them into conflict. He did not know how he felt about this choice. Hrolf might be trading peace with the Franks to make enemies of his own kin. Yet the choice was not his to make, and from Hrolf's grin, Ulfrik knew how his jarl had decided.
"That is a fair exchange. Let it be witnessed here, by my old gods and the new god, that I swear to be your loyal bondsman and protect your rule in exchange for the land and title promised me."
The oath hit Ulfrik like a punch. Such plain-spoken words, yet they forged the start of a new rule in Frankia. No more were any of them invaders, but now Franks themselves--at least in name. The thought made him numb.
The false smile returned to King Charles's thin lips. He stood straighter and his eyes glinted in triumph. The priest who had lingered behind his monarch now came forward and addressed Hrolf.
"Oaths are not enough to secure this treaty. You must perform an act of homage and fealty to consecrate it."
"An oath is all I need make. A man who breaks his oath is no man at all. What is this act?"
"You must kiss the foot of your king."
"No. As I swore the day I took up my sword, I will never kneel before another man, nor kiss anyone's foot."
"It must be done," the priest insisted. King Charles placed his foot forward in the grass.
"Let a man who represents me do this," Hrolf said. "It is enough respect that the best and longest serving of my men kiss your foot."
Gunther One-Eye stirred beside Ulfrik, and Mord whispered to his father, "You can still see enough to manage it without me."
Then Hrolf called out his choice, "Ulfrik, perform this act in my name."
The choice surprised Ulfrik, and he felt his face warm as Gunther quietly stepped back. To hesitate would bring shame to Hrolf, so Ulfrik stepped up to King Charles and knelt before him.
The king wore soft shoes of leather that appeared as if he had never worn them before this occasion. Ulfrik stared at the foot, and the priest urged him to perform the rite. "Kiss the king's foot as a sign of homage. What are you waiting for?"
Ulfrik reached down and carefully lifted the king's foot from the grass. As he hunched forwards, lips pursed, he felt his stomach clenching in revulsion and anger. Is this what these Franks demand of their warriors, he thought. To see how willing their best men are to debase themselves to prove their loyalty? As he held the king's foot, he decided how he would demonstrate his loyalty.
He lifted the foot, brushed his lips against it, then continued to raise it.
King Charles the Simple lost his balance as Ulfrik raised the foot past his head and sent the king sprawling into the grass. Hrolf and all his hirdmen burst into raucous laughter. Ulfrik stood over the king, his crown askew on his head and eyes wide in disbelief. The Franks gasped and men surged forward to aid their king. Ulfrik returned to his own, offering the fallen monarch a shallow bow.
Tears of laughter stained Hrolf's cheeks and he grabbed Ulfrik into a bear hug. "You acted for all of us. I could not have done better."
Men patted his back and congratulated him. He felt the warm glow of satisfaction, and it deepened as King Charles raged at the men helping him to his feet. He glared at Hrolf as he straightened the crown on his head.
"There is the act of fealty and homage, my king," Hrolf
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