Return of the Ravens (Ulfrik Ormsson's Saga Book 6) by Jerry Autieri Page A
Authors: Jerry Autieri
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point south to Count Amand's lines, and so he would have to backtrack to it, making the farm a logical place for them to part company.
"Eskil will not know you," Gunther told him before they parted. "But if you tell him that you've heard of dolphins in the mouth of the Seine, he will know you come from Hrolf."
"Do you know I have heard of dolphins in the mouth of the Seine?" Ulfrik laughed and he and Gunther embraced before parting. "Take good care of Finn for me. It pains him to not accompany me on this adventure, but promise him greater glories for when I return."
The giant that was Gunther One-Eye left him with a clap on the shoulder and directions to Einar's hold. Locals were headed in with trade goods, carts of empty barrels and crates as well as stacks of furs, and Ulfrik was placed among them for cover. Now they all approached the open gates, and the group's leader turned to Ulfrik. "One-Eye says you have business inside that requires secrecy. So you're my dumb brother come along for the ride. Just look at me if anyone asks you questions."
Ulfrik gave a curt nod and stared up at the guards studying them from the walls. None of them smiled, and several set their bows in view.
"Never mind the show," said the leader. "Things are always tense on the border. They'll recognize us soon enough."
As promised, the guards relaxed at their approach, and three men at the western gates inspected their wagons and waved them through. A guard looked Ulfrik over, but his eyes slid past in boredom. He still felt hot and weak for the scrutiny, and began to think this bid to see his family was foolish. He already could not stand to see Runa with Konal, and so settled for a chance to see Hakon along with Einar and Snorri. Once inside the walls, he realized getting close would be impossible without arousing suspicion. He cursed his stupidity.
The carts rolled toward the central square, bouncing along the black boards that lined the main roads. Ravndal had been the template for Einar's fort, which locals called Eyrafell. Ulfrik could guess at where buildings like the forge or smokehouse would be and find he had been correct. A strange sense of both returning home and being among enemies overcame him. He pulled his hood over his eyes and lowered his head.
"Here's where you should go do whatever you need," the leader said. "It's not a long visit today, and we'll be heading back before sunset. Is an afternoon enough time to do your business?"
Ulfrik nodded, then slipped off the cart and took up his walking stick. The leader turned his attention to his companions and they began to unload their goods. Ulfrik wandered off into a side alley, no one caring enough for the passing of an old man. He let his feet lead him, taking paths that were familiar but strange. Sometimes a path did not turn where it should have or there was no path at all. A curious old woman stopped him, the mother of the fletcher, and gossiped with him until he grew restless to leave. He did learn, however, that both Aren and Hakon were here together and that Aren was prone to wandering on his own.
No sooner did he learn this information when he rounded a corner into a side path and stood face to face with Snorri and Aren.
Despite the changes in both of them, recognition was immediate. Snorri was softer, more gaunt and stooped, but under wisps of gray hair and beneath wild brows stared out the intelligent and alert eyes of his oldest friend. His arm was locked with Aren's for support and his other spotted hand held a walking staff much like Ulfrik's own prop. Aren now stood at Snorri's height due to his stoop, and his face was wide and clear. A beard had begun to sketch onto his chin and jaw, auburn hair like Konal's in his youth. He looked directly into Ulfrik's eyes, his expression grave and his eyes radiating a fierce intelligence. Looking into them, Ulfrik saw fear, anger, and disdain flash in their gray depths.
Pulling himself away was like tearing flesh from
"Eskil will not know you," Gunther told him before they parted. "But if you tell him that you've heard of dolphins in the mouth of the Seine, he will know you come from Hrolf."
"Do you know I have heard of dolphins in the mouth of the Seine?" Ulfrik laughed and he and Gunther embraced before parting. "Take good care of Finn for me. It pains him to not accompany me on this adventure, but promise him greater glories for when I return."
The giant that was Gunther One-Eye left him with a clap on the shoulder and directions to Einar's hold. Locals were headed in with trade goods, carts of empty barrels and crates as well as stacks of furs, and Ulfrik was placed among them for cover. Now they all approached the open gates, and the group's leader turned to Ulfrik. "One-Eye says you have business inside that requires secrecy. So you're my dumb brother come along for the ride. Just look at me if anyone asks you questions."
Ulfrik gave a curt nod and stared up at the guards studying them from the walls. None of them smiled, and several set their bows in view.
"Never mind the show," said the leader. "Things are always tense on the border. They'll recognize us soon enough."
As promised, the guards relaxed at their approach, and three men at the western gates inspected their wagons and waved them through. A guard looked Ulfrik over, but his eyes slid past in boredom. He still felt hot and weak for the scrutiny, and began to think this bid to see his family was foolish. He already could not stand to see Runa with Konal, and so settled for a chance to see Hakon along with Einar and Snorri. Once inside the walls, he realized getting close would be impossible without arousing suspicion. He cursed his stupidity.
The carts rolled toward the central square, bouncing along the black boards that lined the main roads. Ravndal had been the template for Einar's fort, which locals called Eyrafell. Ulfrik could guess at where buildings like the forge or smokehouse would be and find he had been correct. A strange sense of both returning home and being among enemies overcame him. He pulled his hood over his eyes and lowered his head.
"Here's where you should go do whatever you need," the leader said. "It's not a long visit today, and we'll be heading back before sunset. Is an afternoon enough time to do your business?"
Ulfrik nodded, then slipped off the cart and took up his walking stick. The leader turned his attention to his companions and they began to unload their goods. Ulfrik wandered off into a side alley, no one caring enough for the passing of an old man. He let his feet lead him, taking paths that were familiar but strange. Sometimes a path did not turn where it should have or there was no path at all. A curious old woman stopped him, the mother of the fletcher, and gossiped with him until he grew restless to leave. He did learn, however, that both Aren and Hakon were here together and that Aren was prone to wandering on his own.
No sooner did he learn this information when he rounded a corner into a side path and stood face to face with Snorri and Aren.
Despite the changes in both of them, recognition was immediate. Snorri was softer, more gaunt and stooped, but under wisps of gray hair and beneath wild brows stared out the intelligent and alert eyes of his oldest friend. His arm was locked with Aren's for support and his other spotted hand held a walking staff much like Ulfrik's own prop. Aren now stood at Snorri's height due to his stoop, and his face was wide and clear. A beard had begun to sketch onto his chin and jaw, auburn hair like Konal's in his youth. He looked directly into Ulfrik's eyes, his expression grave and his eyes radiating a fierce intelligence. Looking into them, Ulfrik saw fear, anger, and disdain flash in their gray depths.
Pulling himself away was like tearing flesh from
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