Sword Brothers by Jerry Autieri Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jerry Autieri
leapt the barrier and were now charging for him.
"It's Ulfrik," he called out. The men rushed to him, and Ragnar, who had been so guilty for leaving him, helped to carry Hakon. "What were you thinking, shooting at us?"
Ragnar shook his head. "It was the others, not ours. They must've mistook you for Franks."
More men streamed past and from behind he heard their battle cries and the crash of blades. His only concern was for Hakon, who staggered along in a daze with blood drizzling from his mouth. He choked and coughed on it, but Ulfrik and Ragnar hauled him to the barrier where Finn waited to help them over.
"I don't know why they shot at you. I told them you were behind me." Finn's freckled face was white with shock, and he stared at Hakon's wound with open revulsion.
"They'll pay for that mistake," Ulfrik said. "But after we get on the water. Let's get Hakon aboard then launch the ship."
Hakon's protests were incomprehensible with the arrow skewering his face. The men who had shot at them lingered behind the barrier. There were three and now they were not interested in shooting nor helping their companions drive back the Franks. Ulfrik glared at them, but returned to Hakon. Finn leapt aboard and took Hakon's arms while Ragnar and Ulfrik pushed him over.
In the distance, the Franks were in retreat and Ulfrik's men were shouting victory. He hoped they had sense to return rather than chase down any stragglers. To his relief all of his men were uninjured and Hrolf's men had only taken superficial wounds. The three men sulking by the barrier were Mord's, and having learned that, Ulfrik burned with rage. Once all were at the ship, he ordered it launched.
"That was a scouting party to follow us. The main force is just behind them and we have to flee now." He stopped Mord's men, who had not offered an apology. He recognized one as a veteran, a hard man with a red scar across his nose who had served Gunther One-Eye. His name was Magnus the Stone. Before Magnus boarded the ship Hrolf had left them, Ulfrik grabbed him by the shoulder. He looked as if Ulfrik's touch sullied his armor.
"You should have known better than to shoot at us. If I were a suspicious man, I'd say you wanted to kill us." Ulfrik held Magnus's cold eyes, and he knew he had guessed right. The veteran glanced at Ulfrik's hand.
"We thought you were Franks. Sorry, my eyes are not what they used to be."
"Good for me or that arrow would be in my neck," Ulfrik grabbed Magnus's beard and pulled him closer. "You'll pay the blood money you owe to Hakon. And if I decide you intended to kill either of us, then you'll pay with your head."
Ulfrik released the veteran's beard, whose lined face broke into a smile.
"Of course, Jarl Ulfrik. It's only right." He stepped back and looked at Ulfrik's leg. "How's the old wound? I bet it hurts every day. It's a hard thing to grow so old yet still fight against men half your age."
The veteran mounted the ship without another word, and Ulfrik decided that his disagreements with Mord had taken a deadly turn.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ulfrik smiled as he emerged from the trees and saw his hall seated atop the gentle hill, dozens of buildings spread out beneath it with peaceful curls of hearth-smoke rising from their rooftops. His legs and feet were still sore from running, but he was glad to make the short walk from the Seine River where his ships docked to his hall. Hakon's expression was lost beneath the rust-stained bandages swaddling his face, but his eyes were bright with joy.
"It has been a long summer away from home, hasn't it?" Ulfrik put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I'll be glad to stretch beside the hearth with a horn of fresh mead. No more of that stale piss we had to drink for so long."
Hakon nodded, still unable to speak. It had only taken four days to arrive home from Chartres, and Hakon still moaned with the pain of his wounds. He had lost two teeth, shattered
"It's Ulfrik," he called out. The men rushed to him, and Ragnar, who had been so guilty for leaving him, helped to carry Hakon. "What were you thinking, shooting at us?"
Ragnar shook his head. "It was the others, not ours. They must've mistook you for Franks."
More men streamed past and from behind he heard their battle cries and the crash of blades. His only concern was for Hakon, who staggered along in a daze with blood drizzling from his mouth. He choked and coughed on it, but Ulfrik and Ragnar hauled him to the barrier where Finn waited to help them over.
"I don't know why they shot at you. I told them you were behind me." Finn's freckled face was white with shock, and he stared at Hakon's wound with open revulsion.
"They'll pay for that mistake," Ulfrik said. "But after we get on the water. Let's get Hakon aboard then launch the ship."
Hakon's protests were incomprehensible with the arrow skewering his face. The men who had shot at them lingered behind the barrier. There were three and now they were not interested in shooting nor helping their companions drive back the Franks. Ulfrik glared at them, but returned to Hakon. Finn leapt aboard and took Hakon's arms while Ragnar and Ulfrik pushed him over.
In the distance, the Franks were in retreat and Ulfrik's men were shouting victory. He hoped they had sense to return rather than chase down any stragglers. To his relief all of his men were uninjured and Hrolf's men had only taken superficial wounds. The three men sulking by the barrier were Mord's, and having learned that, Ulfrik burned with rage. Once all were at the ship, he ordered it launched.
"That was a scouting party to follow us. The main force is just behind them and we have to flee now." He stopped Mord's men, who had not offered an apology. He recognized one as a veteran, a hard man with a red scar across his nose who had served Gunther One-Eye. His name was Magnus the Stone. Before Magnus boarded the ship Hrolf had left them, Ulfrik grabbed him by the shoulder. He looked as if Ulfrik's touch sullied his armor.
"You should have known better than to shoot at us. If I were a suspicious man, I'd say you wanted to kill us." Ulfrik held Magnus's cold eyes, and he knew he had guessed right. The veteran glanced at Ulfrik's hand.
"We thought you were Franks. Sorry, my eyes are not what they used to be."
"Good for me or that arrow would be in my neck," Ulfrik grabbed Magnus's beard and pulled him closer. "You'll pay the blood money you owe to Hakon. And if I decide you intended to kill either of us, then you'll pay with your head."
Ulfrik released the veteran's beard, whose lined face broke into a smile.
"Of course, Jarl Ulfrik. It's only right." He stepped back and looked at Ulfrik's leg. "How's the old wound? I bet it hurts every day. It's a hard thing to grow so old yet still fight against men half your age."
The veteran mounted the ship without another word, and Ulfrik decided that his disagreements with Mord had taken a deadly turn.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ulfrik smiled as he emerged from the trees and saw his hall seated atop the gentle hill, dozens of buildings spread out beneath it with peaceful curls of hearth-smoke rising from their rooftops. His legs and feet were still sore from running, but he was glad to make the short walk from the Seine River where his ships docked to his hall. Hakon's expression was lost beneath the rust-stained bandages swaddling his face, but his eyes were bright with joy.
"It has been a long summer away from home, hasn't it?" Ulfrik put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I'll be glad to stretch beside the hearth with a horn of fresh mead. No more of that stale piss we had to drink for so long."
Hakon nodded, still unable to speak. It had only taken four days to arrive home from Chartres, and Hakon still moaned with the pain of his wounds. He had lost two teeth, shattered
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