said with a bow. "The treaty is now made good."
With that, Hrolf became Count of Rouen and the land of Normandy was born.
CHAPTER TEN
"The humiliation still burns!"
Mord flung his drinking horn into the hearth, the ale hissing into steam as it spilled on the fire. His hall had emptied of men, leaving only a Frankish slave cowering in the darkness of the corners. The old man fetched Mord's horn out of the flames before it was ruined, but Mord's eyes saw only Hrolf and Ulfrik laughing together after he had toppled the king to the grass. Though it had been more than a week gone, he still thought of nothing else.
The hall doors were closed against the balmy night breeze, but moonlight slipped in through the smoke hole in the roof. Mord's mouth tasted of a too-salty meal that he had cursed his wife for ruining. The night was truly a waste but for the ale.
"Bring me another horn," he yelled at the old slave, who was already refilling it from a clay pitcher.
"Stop acting like a drunk. You're better than that." His father, Gunther One-Eye, sat along a bench against the wall. His white hair glowed in the low light and his milky eye fixed on Mord. "I'm tired of the constant complaining. You're worse than your wife."
Mord snatched the horn out of the slave's hand, contemplated ignoring his father's demands, but then handed it back. "Here, don't waste it."
"You've chased everyone away," Gunther said, his voice a low grumble. "And your woman won't be giving you another chance at children tonight. Not after the way you shamed her before everyone."
He had not paused to think about his wife, Fara. As usual, his father had mentioned his lack of an heir. His only child, a girl, had died two years after her birth, and Fara had produced no more children.
"She will recover. Besides, I will have to find another woman to give me sons. Fara obviously is spent of her child-bearing."
Gunther shrugged. They sat in silence, and Mord listened to the night breeze blowing against the hall. Smoke clung to the ceiling like a white cloud, and not for the first time Mord wished his hall were larger. He stared at his hands, unsure of what else to say. If he could not complain of the shame he endured at the Saint Clair sur Epte, he had nothing more on his mind.
"Did that spot of silence help clear your thoughts?" Gunther asked.
"Not really."
His father's head lowered and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I too felt the shame. More than you. I was Hrolf's oldest serving man, but I suppose I was not his best. A lifetime of faithful service, all forgotten."
"And you know why."
"Because I am old and halfway blind and can't do more for him than try to teach his arrogant son how to be a man. I can't deliver grand victories or flip a king on his ass. My usefulness has passed, and I'm set aside to die."
"All because of Ulfrik!"
"Ulfrik is an upstart. I found him when he was nothing, a slave. I saw the potential in him, pushed him before Hrolf, and made him great. He went from being a farmer on some bird-shit island at the top of the world to Hrolf's trusted man. He moved me aside without a look back. I knew years ago that he had gotten too big to let him remain on the board. Now look at him. He has replaced me not only in his position today, but even in Hrolf's memories. It's as if I had never lived."
"I wish Magnus had shot at him first, rather than his son. It would be good to have him dead."
Gunther shook his head. "Ulfrik is the luckiest man I know. I could have told you an arrow would not find a mark on him. Besides, the time is not right for his sudden death, and to have died that way would have brought Hrolf's suspicions to your hall door. Magnus would have died to keep your secret, but Hrolf would learn the truth. He's good at that."
Mord bowed his head. "I saw an opportunity, much like you did once."
Gunther leaned back and laughed. "That was nothing of the sort. I planned for
Claudia Hall Christian
Jay Hosking
Tanya Stowe
Barbara L. Clanton
Lori Austin
Sally Wragg
Elizabeth Lister
Colm-Christopher Collins
Travis Simmons
Rebecca Ann Collins