Fate's Needle by Jerry Autieri Read Free Book Online Page A

night pulled the shades of the forest down around him. Grim had grabbed everything for himself, and he intended to hold it. This was not like the scuffles of their childhood. This was war—real war, with land and men hanging in the balance. And of men, Ulfrik had none but for Yngvar. “Can I trust you?” he asked.
    “Yes,” Yngvar answered immediately. “I will make my oath to you. Your father, for the short time I knew him, was good to me. I think you are your father’s son, more than Grim.” Yngvar knelt in the mud with his head bowed and his brown cloak covering him, resembling a dark boulder in the dim light.
    Ulfrik did not know how to take a man’s oath, but he didn’t dwell on it long. More important was that he had an ally. Yngvar had already risked much to help him. Ulfrik found words he thought would bring dignity to the muddy, blood-smeared surroundings. “Do you swear to serve me, your lord and my father’s rightful heir, loyally?”
    Yngvar replied, but Ulfrik did not hear the words. By chance, he had glanced up as he spoke. Framed against the gloom of the forest was a curly-haired boy in a tattered white shift. He was staring fixedly at Ulfrik. When their eyes met, the boy, startled, darted into the forest. Leaving Yngvar kneeling in the mud, Ulfrik tore after him.

Five
    The boy dashed through the underbrush with Ulfrik on his heels. Branches crackled and snapped as the boy fled, and Ulfrik rushed through the still-quivering bushes after him, keeping on the boy’s tail.
    The trail was erratic, and Ulfrik stumbled more than once. He guessed the boy was a slave, likely Grim’s. He could not let him return to Grim with news of the foiled plot, not when he first needed to devise his own plan.
    He could hear Yngvar lumbering along and cursing behind him, slowed by his mail shirt. Ahead, he spotted a flash of the boy’s grubby rags through the trees. The boy was closer than he thought. Then a high-pitched screech was followed by the sound of the child rolling through the underbrush. Ulfrik smiled, and halted. As expected, the underbrush concealed a sharp drop a few steps ahead. The boy had pitched headlong. Ulfrik leaped down in two bounds and tackled him as he made to rise. Together, they crashed back to the ground, Ulfrik’s body slamming the boy flat, driving out his breath. Straddling him, Ulfrik flipped him onto his back.
    Ulfrik immediately saw the slave collar affixed to the child’s neck, but the slave was a girl—one not much younger than himself. She gave him little time to appreciate any other aspect of her appearance. Her breath returned, and her dark eyes widened in terror. She screeched, flailed and kicked, ignoring the impediment of Ulfrik, who still pinned her arms.
    Yngvar’s heavy footfalls and ragged breathing signaled his approach. “By the gods, you caught him. I thought he’d get away.” He stepped up to the slave’s head. “So now I know why you’re just sitting atop her.”
    The jibe registered with Ulfrik too slowly for him to respond. The girl squirmed and kicked, spitting and swearing, wasting her strength. Ulfrik remained on top of her, allowing her to thrash until she subsided. “I can let you up if you’ll be good. You won’t run?”
    “I’ll have your head, girl, faster than you can run.” Yngvar adjusted his grip on the ax. The girl quivered at the words but nodded in silent agreement.
    When Ulfrik stood, the girl remained flat on the ground, as if waiting to be assisted to her feet. “Well, you can’t run off if you lie there.” Ulfrik smiled. “Now, tell me what you saw.”
    The slave did not answer immediately. She collected herself delicately, as if embarrassed by her behavior. Her white shift had bunched up nearly to her hips, revealing shapely thighs. Ulfrik felt himself react to the sight. They were not the legs of a slave, at least not of a laboring slave. He immediately felt ashamed for noticing and shifted his gaze back to her scowling