Chapter 25
'My mead and meat is yours,' Gramm said the guest-greeting. 'Food and drink for our guests,' he shouted, waving his arms in the air.
All was chaos for a short while as warriors dismounted, a swarm of children appearing from nowhere to take reins and tend to horses. Gramm put his arm about one lad and bent to whisper in his ear. The boy cradled a dog in one arm, a ratter. It was bleeding from a gash on its shoulder.
'Go fetch your da,' Ulfilas heard Gramm say.
'Yes, Grand-pa,' the lad replied and scurried off across the courtyard. Ulfilas caught Dag's eye and nodded after the disappearing boy. Dag slipped away through the crowded courtyard.
Gramm barked orders as he led Jael and Ulfilas into his hall, other warriors following.
The hall was big, two long tables running down the sides, leaving a path down the centre. Embers still glowed in a fire-pit. Another table ran the length of the back wall. Hanging from the wall above it was a huge bear pelt, its mouth open and snarling. A giant's war-hammer was mounted above it.
It's obvious that the relations.h.i.+p with their Jotun neighbours is not that friendly.
The food that came out of Gramm's kitchen was good simple but hot and lots of it. A fair-haired child offered Ulfilas a jug of mead but he refused it, taking cold water instead. As Jael's s.h.i.+eldman he was always on his guard, but here that sense was heightened. He felt unsettled.
'That jug looks too heavy for you, child,' he said to the girl with the mead.
'Grand-pa says we should lift more than we can handle,' the girl said, freckles wrinkling as she concentrated. 'He says it makes us strong, inside and out.' Her eyes flickered to Gramm.
'A good lesson,' Jael said, smiling good-naturedly.
'Life's hard in these northlands,' Gramm said. 'Now run along, Sif,' he added to the child.
'You have children, then?' Jael asked.
'Aye,' Gramm muttered.
'And grandchildren,' Jael added, his eyes following the girl as she took her jug of mead to a table full of Jael's s.h.i.+eldmen.
After Gramm's initial surprise at meeting the King it seemed that his nerves had calmed. Jael was courteous and charming, as Ulfilas had seen him on countless occasions. Now Gramm was telling Jael of how he had built the hold with his own hands, braving close proximity both to Forn Forest and the Desolation to take advantage of the timber and the river.
'A bold endeavour,' Jael remarked.
And one that has paid off, Ulfilas thought as he looked at the size of the hall.
'You have carved out a fine living for yourself,' Jael said. 'Profits must be high indeed to provide for so many.'
Jael is no fool he has no doubt seen all that I have seen, and more.
'Trade is good, I'll not deny,' Gramm said.
'And your warriors I've not seen so many in a single hold, and uncommonly well equipped,' Jael commented.
'Life is dangerous this far north.' Gramm pointed to the bear pelt and giant's hammer hanging on the wall. 'They are not there for decoration, but as a reminder. We are close to the Desolation and to Forn Forest. A cold winter is often all that's needed to lure giants across the river or entice creatures from the forest with more legs and sharper teeth than is entirely good for us. Warriors with sharp swords are a necessity here, not a luxury. And besides, what with all the goings on further south ' his eyes flickered to Jael 'there has been an outbreak of lawlessness and thievery the likes of which I have never seen before. Brigands seeking to take advantage of Isiltir's upheaval. My lands have been raided more than once.'
'That will all end, now. I will see to it. Isiltir has a new king, and I mean to bring peace to the land. These brigands' days are numbered.'
'Glad to hear it,' Gramm said.
'And talking of the goings on in the south, where do your loyalties lie?' Nothing about Jael's tone changed, but the hall seemed to quieten, an indrawn breath waiting upon Gramm's answer.
Gramm looked at Jael with an undecipherable expression. 'We are a long way from anyone here. Isolated. Priorities change when you live on the edge of the wild. In truth I have little interest in the goings on in Isiltir. Family. Food on my table. Trade. That the giants stay on the north side of the river. Those things are highest on my list. But if a choice had to be made, then I am a man of Isiltir, and my loyalties lie with its King. Of that you need have no doubt.'
'That is good to know,' Jael said. 'I thank you for your honesty.'
'It's all a man has,' Gramm shrugged.
'Indeed.'
Ulfilas saw a shadow appear at the hall's open doors: Dag the huntsman. The man nodded to him and then stepped from view.
'And let me return the favour and be honest with you,' Jael said to Gramm. 'It would please me greatly if we could work together.'
'What do
'I need information. If I know where my enemies are hiding, then I can end these dark times that you speak of. We would both benefit.' Jael stopped eating and stared at Gramm.
'Hiding?' Gramm said, pausing as he ripped a chunk of bread from a loaf. Slowly he looked at Jael, returning his gaze.
'Aye. These northlands are vast, with countless places that a cunning enemy may hide. But you are well placed to hear of them. If you could send me information of the whereabouts, the movements of these brigands that you speak of, it would be helpful information. And I always reward those who are helpful to me.'
Gramm remained silent.
'There is one in particular that I speak of, who I am searching for,' Jael continued. 'One enemy who may be hiding somewhere in these northlands. A boy and a warrior.'
'They don't sound so dangerous. Hardly a band of brigands,' Gramm said with a smile.
'No, but nevertheless, it is important that they are brought to me. I will catch them. The boy is eleven summers, red hair. The warrior young no more than twenty summers. A survivor of the Gadrai.'
'I thought the Gadrai were servants of Isiltir, loyal to the King,' Gramm asked.
'Not this one. For the most part the Gadrai fell in Forn Forest, slain in combat with the Hunen. Not as skilled at giant-slaying as their reputation would have you believe.' Jael chuckled at his joke, as did some of his s.h.i.+eldmen. None of Gramm's people did.
'But this one still lives, or did, when Dun Kellen fell. He is a traitor, a renegade. Have you seen anyone matching their description, or heard any news of two such roaming the land.'
'No,' Gramm said.
'I would appreciate it if you would help me find them.'
'I will do what I can,' Gramm said, going back to his bread.
'Of course you will. You seem like an honest man, so I should take you at your word. Unfortunately my experiences of late... Well, let us say that I find it difficult to trust anyone. My own fault, granted, but I often suffer with feelings of doubt, mistrust. I am feeling them now.'
'I can only give you my word, my a.s.surance-' Gramm began, but Jael cut him off.
'a.s.surance. Yes, just what I was thinking.' Jael touched Ulfilas' arm.
Ulfilas launched himself over the table, scattering bowls, food, jugs, as he lunged forwards. There was a high-pitched yelp and then Ulfilas was holding the serving-child, Sif. He drew his knife and put it to her throat.
A woman screamed, tried to reach Ulfilas, but Jael's s.h.i.+eldmen stood, forming a wall about Ulfilas and the child.
'No,' Gramm yelled, standing, his chair falling behind him. Other men were shouting, the sound of swords leaving scabbards.
'I wouldn't,' Jael said, standing too, slowly, wiping food from the corner of his mouth. He walked calmly to Ulfilas.
'She is your grandchild, and family are your first priority, as you have just told me. I think she will come with me. My guest. She will be looked after, not harmed, so long as you do as I ask. An a.s.surance. Do you understand me?'
Gramm just stared at Jael, muscles bunching in his face, his fists.
'Do you understand me?' Jael repeated. 'I'll not ask you a third time.'
'I understand you,' Gramm said flatly.
'Good.' Jael looked at Sif. 'Stop snivelling, child,' he said. 'She is dear to you, I guess. But just one amongst many, and only a girl. I think I need more a.s.surance than this.'
'If you think I will parade my grandchildren before you, you are a fool,' Gramm snarled.
'True, I would be. Far better to just take another.' Jael called out and figures appeared in the doorway Dag, holding the lad that Gramm had sent off earlier. The boy was bleeding from a swollen lip, still clutching his ratter under one arm.
'Swain,' Gramm gasped, and the woman who had run to the girl cried out and sank to her knees, sobbing.
'Good,' Jael said with a smile. 'Now I am confident that I have my a.s.surance.' He strode from the hall into the pale sunlight and mounted his horse.
Ulfilas was behind him, followed by all in the hall. Sif struggled as Ulfilas climbed into his saddle and he shook her.
'Be still, girl, or you'll get a slap,' he snarled.
The boy in Dag's care lunged for him but Dag grabbed his tunic and clumped him across the back of the head with his knife hilt. The boy collapsed to the ground. His dog stood protectively over him, growling at Dag.
Jael laughed at the sight of it. Dag kicked the dog, sending it rolling away with a whine, then hoisted the lad up and slung him across his saddle.
'You are now my eyes in the north,' Jael cried. 'The boy and his guardian. Bring them to me, or send me word of them, and your kin will be returned to you unharmed.' With that Jael turned his horse and cantered out of the courtyard.
Ulfilas caught up with Jael on the long road that skirted the paddocks.
'Think you made an impression.'
'Aye. Gramm won't be forgetting his new king.'
'Didn't get a new horse, though,' Ulfilas said as he looked into the paddocks.
'Next time,' Jael replied.
'Do you trust Gramm now?'
'I don't trust anyone, Ulfilas, not even you, though you've been my s.h.i.+eldman since before I could hold a sword.'
Nor I you.
'But trust is overrated, as are love, loyalty and devotion. Fear, Ulfilas. That is what is important to me. As long as he fears me, all will be well.'
Ulfilas looked back at Gramm's hold, ringed by its stout wooden walls. Ulfilas had not seen fear on Gramm's face when he'd first greeted the new King. No. What had swept Gramm, only for an instant and quickly masked, had been something else entirely.
It was hatred.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.
TUKUL.
Tukul sat close to Corban, patiently waiting as the warband prepared to leave. Idly he leaned forward and rubbed one of Daria's ears; she whickered quietly. All were gathered and waiting upon Corban, who was in close conversation with Brina and Ethlinn. They parted, and Corban pulled himself onto s.h.i.+eld's back, the stallion stamping a hoof and snorting, making Daria whicker in response next to him.
Something has changed within him. Yesterday he was unsure, worry leaking from him. Now he looks... resolved.
Corban looked about at the faces watching him.
'Foes ahead and foes behind,' Corban yelled. 'The only choice to make is who do we fight first. We'll head south, see what Rhin's warband thinks of us. The only running we'll do is at them.'
Tukul felt a thrill go through him, part fear, part excitement. He welcomed it. Corban stood tall in his saddle, Storm pacing around s.h.i.+eld. 'We'll leave the Kados.h.i.+m for another day.' Laughter rippled through them at that. Corban raised a fist. 'Truth and courage, and I'll see you all on the other side.'
Tukul heard his voice joined to many others in a shared battle-cry.
'Craf, Fech, I need you both now,' Corban said.
Both birds were perched on Brina's saddle and regarded Corban suspiciously with their beady eyes.
'Please.'
'Fech will fly. You asked nicely.' The raven dipped his head in what looked like a mock-bow.
'Thank you,' Corban said, lips twitching. 'Fech, you fly ahead, give us warning of Rhin's warband. Craf, see if you can spot Nathair and the Kados.h.i.+m.'
Craf and Fech flapped into the air, spiralled upwards together, then separated one heading south, the other north.
The warband jerked into motion, Corban leading a central column along the crumbling road. A number of the Jehar horses now bore an extra rider the villagers who had escaped the Kados.h.i.+m in the woods.