Chapter 24 #2
She climbed from her horse without aid and hurried to the entrance of the small dwelling.
Merrik wanted to shout to her but he held his peace.
He dismounted, tossed his horse’s reins to one of the soldiers, then followed his wife into the farmstead.
He had to lean down not to hit his head on a beam, blackened from too many years of soot.
It was dark within, and it took several moments for his eyes to adjust. When he could see well enough, he winced.
It was a wretched place, and it smelled, the air rancid with old food, unwashed bodies, and closely packed animals.
He saw an old man seated by a fire pit in the very center of the single room.
He had a long white beard and he wore a surprisingly beautiful white robe.
It was clean. He looked up as Merrik entered.
“You are her husband?” he said.
“Aye, I am Merrik Haraldsson of Malverne.”
“In Vestfold,” the old man said low, and stirred the embers in the fire pit with a skinny stick. “It is a beautiful land, Vestfold. Harald Fairhair will rule even longer. Know you that, Viking? He is as long-lived as Rollo.”
“I have never doubted it, old man.”
“You have gained yourself a wife blooded of valiant men and women.” He didn’t look at Laren, who stood opposite him, obviously fascinated, staring at the old man, but saying nothing. Merrik took another step forward, but the old man held up his hand to stay him.
“Nay, stay there, Viking, else you will disturb the embers. All these flames, licking about the new twigs I just laid in, they show me things.”
Merrik came forward in any case. “You will tell me, old man, where is Rollo?”
“He came and left.”
“His horse, Njaal, is still outside.”
“He is swimming in the river. I gave him a cream for his joints, then told him to bathe it off. He is at the river.”
“Now you will tell me who you are.”
“I?” The old man lifted very bright dark eyes to Merrik’s face.
“Ah,” he said, and laughed, a rusty sound.
“You do not trust me. I do not blame you, Viking. Look at your wife. She doesn’t trust me either, but she is more subtle about it.
She watches closely and doubt not that she carries a knife in the folds of her gown. ”
“You are right,” Laren said coldly. She raised her hand to show him a long thin-bladed knife that would easily sink through a man’s chest and show its bloodied point out his back.
Its handle was exquisitely carved ivory.
Merrik had never seen it before. “You will not harm my husband. If you attempt it, I will kill you.”
Merrik simply stared at her. He hadn’t guessed that her suspicions ran as deeply as his, for he had been so very worried that she believed this to be different, to be safe, to be . . . He had underestimated her and he vowed he would never do it again. He walked to her side.
“She also carries a babe,” the old man said, seemingly not bothered by her threat.
“Aye, a knife without and a babe within. You have grown fierce, Laren, and loyal. Rollo told me that Taby lives. He was a beautiful babe, fat and smiling, always smiling, showing his toothless gums, and I loved him deeply. He always held out his arms to me. I was besotted with him. But then everything changed and I was forced to flee. It was Rollo’s idea that I become as you see me now. ”
Merrik was aware suddenly that Laren had grown very still. He saw that her face had paled and he immediately held her against his side. “Do you feel ill?”
“Nay,” she said, never taking her eyes off the old man.
Suddenly, the old man rose from the rough stool and smoothed out the folds of his white robe.
Laren said very quietly, “It is you, isn’t it?”
Merrik stared from her to the old man. “What do you mean, sweeting?”
“It is my father,” she said, pulled away from him, and walked around the fire pit to stand in front of the old man, an old man who seemed not so old now, for he was taller now and very straight.
“Aye, daughter, ’tis I.”
She sobbed softly and threw herself into his arms. “When you disappeared I couldn’t bear it. First Mother and then you.”
“I know. I know.” Hallad held her close, stroking her beautiful red hair. He looked at Merrik over her head. “I had to see her and to see you as well, Merrik Haraldsson. You are distrustful of me, as was she. Why?”
“Because we do not know as yet who was responsible for her and Taby’s abduction,” Merrik said. “I believed this to be a ruse to get us both away from the palace and relative safety. You know that Fromm was murdered? That I was attacked?”
A deep voice spoke from a dark corner of the hut. “Aye, I told him.”
They both looked up to see Rollo striding toward them, his face grim. He was no longer a querulous old man, thin graying hair brushing his shoulders. No, he looked more like the Rollo of legend, strong and decisive, a man to fear and a man to trust, the man they had first seen upon their arrival.
“Aye, I am here, Merrik, and it is no trap unless others have made it thus for their own benefit. Hallad wanted to meet you and to see his daughter again. I have told him that soon, with your aid, we will discover who killed his wife and your mother, Laren. I didn’t kill Nirea nor was I her lover, as I know you’ve been told.
But Hallad was blamed for her death and I knew I couldn’t allow him to be killed for it.
Thus he became an outlaw, but I couldn’t allow that to continue.
Two years ago, shortly before your and Taby’s abduction, he become the old wizard who lives here, supposedly, and provides me with prophesies and advice.
This abominable hut stinks, a pit of filth, I know, but Hallad only uses it to discourage any men who would come here to rob him.
He lives in the monastery of St. Catherine’s.
You passed it on your way here. When he is there, he is a Christian monk.
It has worked well, this ruse of ours. Show yourself to your daughter, Hallad.
I will see that the men stay out of here. ”
Hallad set Laren aside. He pulled off the thick white wig and the heavy beard.
Brilliant thick red hair freely laced with gray sprang up.
The red was just the color of Laren’s. His eyes, dark as his brother Rollo’s, were vibrant with life.
Standing side by side, there was a resemblance, surely, but that red hair, it was like a beacon.
He was a handsome man, a man Merrik was very glad hadn’t died, and he was an old man, too, even though he had fewer years than his brother, Rollo.
Hallad seemed to guess his thoughts. “Aye, Merrik, Rollo and I both are old men. I can see it in your eyes. But we are blessed with years upon years of life.”
“You both carry the years well,” Merrik said.
He turned to Rollo. “This becomes even more of a tangled skein, sire. I have men arriving shortly, Oleg leading them. I truly believed this to be a subterfuge, that whoever was responsible for attacking me and killing Fromm would try to kill us this time.”
Rollo smiled and rubbed his hands together over the orange flames. “Will your men gallop up like an invading hoard of Vikings or will they hide amongst the trees and wait for a signal?”
“They will wait for a signal.”
“Good. My men will wait outside, too, well hidden in the trees. There is only one horse outside, all the others are in the woods. We will have some mead now.”
“And wait as well?” Laren said, and hugged her father again.
“Aye,” Hallad said, kissing the top of her head. “We will wait as well.”
“Ah,” Merrik said. “You have planted seeds and watered them.”
“Aye, I am a great leader, Merrik Haraldsson. My mind and my body forged this land. You expect that I wouldn’t protect it and those I love with all the cunning I possess?”
Merrik laughed, and Hallad, to Merrik’s surprise, punched his brother’s arm.
“He is always braying like a damned mule,” Hallad said, and punched him again.
“He will soon begin to believe that he is a godlike figure, a myth to survive the centuries. He will soon believe all the incredible stories credulous fools tell about him.”
Rollo laughed, a deep booming laugh. “And you, graybeard, what of you? Making me visit you here in this filthy sod shack, making people believe you’ve nearly reached the status of a Christian’s holy man, an old ass who gives me advice by looking into the flames in this wretched fire pit?
Ha, Hallad!” And he laughed again. He said then to Hallad, his voice deep and serious, “The children do not understand all of this, brother, particularly my old man’s irritation and bile. My show of an old man’s foolishness.”
“It surprised me,” Laren said, “when you behaved as though you were doddering on the edge of your brain.”
“Good,” Rollo said. “That means all others saw it and believed it as well.”
Hallad struck a thoughtful pose and said, “I wonder if he was truly playing the role?”
“I pray so, Father,” Laren said.
Merrik said to Rollo, “You are certain our villain will show himself today?”
“Aye,” Rollo said. “Aye. I have told several men of Hallad’s presence here, how he was pretending to be like a holy man and of my visit to him here today. I told them all that he sent me a message telling me that he had discovered who had killed Nirea and abducted Laren and Taby.”
“Including Weland and Otta?”
Rollo nodded, a flash of pain in his dark eyes. “Aye,” he said after a moment, “today we will know our enemy.”
“Finally,” Hallad said. “Finally.”
Helga rode beside Otta and his score of well-armed men.
He’d told her that her father was still alive.
He wanted her to see him for herself. Helga didn’t believe him for a moment, but Otta was a man she was considering as a new husband, despite the foolish pains in his belly that none of her potions could cure, and thus she didn’t consider it wise to flay him just yet with her tongue.