“Bacraut,” Ullr swore as she trudged through the deep-fresh snow next to Bjorn, their boots sinking past their winnigas as they marched through Lejre with high knees. “I should have kept an eye on the hall,” she muttered. “I could have captured the traitor, made him draugr.”
“And how would you have known he was a traitor?” Bjorn replied calmly. “I only know because of this new skill.”
She spat angrily, the glob steaming on the snow’s surface before melting its way through, a tiny mineshaft in the frost.
Lejre was quiet this early in the morning. Dawn had barely broken and the paths had not yet been cleared. A dim glow accompanied the crisp air and long shadows stretched out from the steadings as they approached Harald’s quarters.
“So you saw through Hrafn’s eyes,” Ullr asked quietly, “then awoke as if no time had passed at all, yet hours had gone by, night had turned back to day.”
“Aye,” Bjorn nodded. “And my body aches, thought-cage holds the dream fog still. It is as if I barely slept at all.”
“Still, it is a useful tool, this skill,” she said. “Information is as important in war as in politics and you seem to be knee deep in both.”
“We all walk a path, all are difficult… some more so than others,” he shrugged with a smile. “Now, it is time to wake up the fat king and see what trick-deal he intends to propose to me.” He said, stopping short of the steading which Harald was staying in. A patch on the thatched roof stayed clear of snow, above the firepit. Water dripped rhythmically all around it, splashing on the ground surrounding the steading, turning snow to ice. Bjorn’s boots felt the frost-slip as he looked up at the steading and took a deep breath.
“I’ll follow your lead,” Ullr said, tapping the hilt of her seax with a wicked smile.
“You will stay outside, let no one enter,” Bjorn said before knocking loudly on the steading door with his ham-fist.
Ullr nodded and Bjorn entered the steading before Harald had a chance to open the door for him. Marching inside, snow flaking off his boots, leaving puddles on the floor, he approached the messy table in the centre of the room and poured himself a tankard of ale.
“I would ask if you have ever heard of knocking,” Harald said, rubbing his eyes and sliding out of his bed which sprang back up as his heft eased the force which weighed it down. “But somehow you knocked and yet still managed to enter without manners.”
“You said we would talk tomorrow,” Bjorn shrugged, gulping the stale ale. “It is tomorrow now, so let us talk.”
“Ha!” Harald let out a single, shrill laugh as he awkwardly shrugged a large shirt over his head and shoulders. “If you mean to catch me off guard with this early morning wakeup call and demand for negotiation, then I am afraid you have come here for nothing.”
“I will not give you Jorvik,” Bjorn said, moving towards the fire in the corner and thawing his cold-stiff hands, turning his back to the fat king. “But there must be something I can give you for your aid? Other than my promise to claim Norway for you, that is.”
“Spit it out, Ironside,” Harald said and Bjorn heard a chair’s protesting creak as the fat king sat down on it. “What are you offering?”
“Gold, Norway, and a chance to be part of the greatest saga tale Midgard has ever known. You seek legacy, that is why you desire Norway. Join me and your battle-fame will grow far more.” Bjorn said. “It is a good offer; you should take it.”
“I have gold,” he said flippantly, “I will soon have Norway, with or without your help, and becoming the first man to conquer and rule it will be as worthy a saga tale as any – and one where I am the main character.”
“Then why are you still here?” Bjorn asked, finally turning around and placing both hands on the table, his face dangerously close to Harald’s.
“Negotiation is not working so you resort to threatening behaviour?” Harald baulked, “what kind of king would I be if I was so easily intimidated?”
“You must want something,” Bjorn said, ignoring the accusation. “You know I will not give you Jorvik, that town is too powerful, would threaten my claim to England’s throne. Besides, what kind of king would I be to let me drengir die taking a town only to turn it over to you? No… I think that you have asked for it so that I will be more agreeable to the terms you set when you finally tell me what it is that you are really after. So you spit it out, what do you want?”
Perfect, I am a better liar than I realised, Bjorn thought smugly. Last night he said he would not lose face to me by accepting my offer. Now I have set him up to make it seem like he was the one playing me the entire time. Thank the gods for that new skill.
“Your bodyguard,” Harald said quietly and Bjorn took a step backwards. The shock must have shown on his face because a large smile cracked the fatty slabs which were Harald’s chin and cheeks and he leaned back, pouring ale into his chasm-gullet.
“What could you possibly want with Ullr?” Bjorn asked, taking a moment to check that he had heard correctly. “You only saw her for the first time yesterday.”
“I believe that she is part of my destiny and that is all you need to know,” he shrugged. “That is what I want. A small price to pay for the use of my army, is it not? One woman for an army of two thousand.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Bacraut. He seeks to make a fifl of me. I had best play along, let him think I am outraged. He does not want Ullr; he wants to be the victor in the battle of wits.
“Ullr is a freedwoman, a powerful shieldmaiden, an ally!” Bjorn roared, his fist crashing down, splintering the table, acting only in part as he allowed real anger to escape. Yet Harald’s face remained neutral as he stared into Bjorn’s icy blue eyes with his beady, calculating ones. “She is no thrall to be bartered.”
“Ha!” Harald laughed shrilly, tipping his head back, taking another swig of ale and then wiping his dripping beard with the back of his hand. “You have much to learn boy. When you are a king, everyone is a thrall to be bartered. They are your people and you can do whatever you want with them. It is no different to the arm rings you wear. What is one Ulfhedinn for an army? You want to be king of England? Act like one.”
Bjorn took a deep breath, fists clenched as he glanced towards the door knowing Ullr was faithfully guarding the other side. He had not known her long, but she was loyal. They were linked by the weave. That had to mean something. He could not simply trade her to this fat oaf even if it was all for show. Though he could take Ullr’s advice, lie about this trade and back out once England was his.
Wait…
“How did you know she was Ulfhedinn?” Bjorn asked quietly, thought-cage whirring.
Ullr had not shown her powers; Bjorn had not told him either. Ivar could have, but when? His brodir had been with him all night and Bjorn did not hear any mention of Ullr when he, as Hrafn, eavesdropped on the mystery traitor. So how then?
“That is not of your concern,” Harald replied, a danger to his tone, veins popping in his hand which squeezed his cup.
His mouth has betrayed him, Bjorn thought, struggling to keep the thin smile, which pulled at his lips, in check.
“You don’t just want her,” Bjorn said quietly. “You need her.”
And you need me to lose face. Knowing she is Ulfhedinn makes this new deal sting all the more. Harald knows that. He only wants her to weaken me, despite any other lie he decides to tell.
“And you need my army,” Harald spat, rising out of his chair and glaring at Bjorn. “So make the trade, Ironside.”
“If you can convince her to go with you then I will allow her to leave my service,” Bjorn shrugged, struggling to keep his lips from curving upwards.
“No,” Harald said, slamming his fist on the table. “I need your sworn oath that she will be mine, even if you have to deliver her to me in chains.” His face twisted, contorted as spittle flew from his lips and his cheeks reddened.
Checkmate, Bjorn thought smugly.
“You can have her… after I kill Aella, not a moment before,” he said calmly. “In return, you will work as my ally, you will obey me in battle and you and your drengir will fight or die for me when we invade England. If you run away, if you try to trick me in any way, then I will slit her throat and neither of us will have her.”
Harald’s face paled, fists clenched, jaw tightened so hard that it looked as if the fat king was about to collapse.
He might be a better actor than I am…
“Deal,” he spat begrudgingly, offering out his arm which Bjorn took in a warrior’s shake.
“Deal.”
***
“I do not understand,” Ullr said as they marched towards the docks in the crisp morning air, her eyes shifting knowingly. “Why would he trade all of that for me?”
“I do not think it is about you,” Bjorn shrugged, allowing himself to smile at his victory. “After what I overheard last night, he wants to claim victory over me. His ally, our mystery traitor, basically said as much. Harald needed to save face, so I played along, got angry, made it a painful-looking decision to part with you so that he would feel like he had the upper hand. He does not. We have won this battle of wits.”
“Do you want me to go with him?” She asked and Bjorn stopped suddenly, brow furrowing as he looked into her glistening eyes.
“No,” he said firmly. “I am no oath breaker, but this is no true oath. The fat king was already planning to betray me so it will not bring shame on my clan if I do the same. I will use him, use his army, then when Aella is dead, I will simply send him home.”
“You cannot be that naive,” she said, a slight smile growing on her lips.
“If that does not work then I will kill him,” Bjorn shrugged. “I am undefeated in the holmganga ring, you know?”
And dominion over Norway would be useful…
Ullr laughed at that, her hair jostling lightly with the furs on her shoulders as her chest heaved and her weapons jangled in her belt.
Then the world froze, snow stopped falling staying still in the air, but Ullr was still laughing, she was allowed within the Nornir’s frozen world of weave-runes and skill updates.
Quest Updated:
The King Is Dead…
Your father has been murdered by Aella, king of Northumbria. Gather your allies, travel to England, and seek your revenge.
Objectives:
Gather allies: 1/1
Reach England: 0/1
Kill King Aella: 0/1
Rewards:
To be confirmed
“Huh,” Bjorn said as he read through the floating runes. “I did not expect you to be a part of this.”
“What is this… quest?” Ullr asked.
“This is the Nornir trying to control my fate.”
“And succeeding by the look of it,” she said. “Is this why you want to attack England, kill Aella?”
“No,” Bjorn replied. “This is how I was told of my father’s death. I decided to invade England because blood must have blood. It is our way, my right. It seems that fate agrees with my goals.”
Bjorn waited for Ullr’s reply but it did not come. Turning towards her, he saw that she was now as frozen as the paralysed snow mid freefall. New runes lit up the air in front of him.
So she cannot see everything I see within the weave…
Allied Forces Tracker Unlocked:
Ironside Drengir: 1000
Lejre Allied Drengir: 600
Jarl Tovi’s Shieldmaidens: 50
Jomsvikings: 300
Harald Bluetooth Drengir: 2000
Total: 3950
Bjorn stared at the numbers for a moment.
This is a good-strong army, he thought. I hope it will be enough to subjugate the four kingdoms of England.
“Then we best prepare our fleet,” Ullr said with a nod, continuing her interrupted sentence, completely oblivious to the stoppage of time.
Bjorn blinked. The weave runes disappeared from the air and he turned towards Ullr, waiting a moment before he replied.
“Why do you think I am leading you towards the docks?” He said and then he was marching onwards towards the docks with Ullr hot on his heels.
