Page 70 of Her Rogue Viking
Ulfric had prepared for this and had his answer ready. “My wife has kin here, and I am relieved to discover, so do I. The land is fertile, there is ample for all. And you will benefit from our protection should others come. Others less… friendly… than we.”
Taranc was not to be deflected. “Why? Why leave your own settlement?”
Ulfric sighed. “You recall the blood feud, with our neighbours, the Bjarkessons?”
“I heard of it. It was not a matter of concern to your slaves.”
“Quite, though of late that may have changed somewhat. My thralls were persuaded to lend their efforts to mine in defenceof Skarthveit and our combined force was sufficient to repel an attack by our enemies. In return, I granted them their freedom.”
“All of them?” For the first time Taranc allowed his surprise to show.
“Yes. All. But rather than remain at Skarthveit and fight off one attack after another until nothing and no one remained, I decided to seek a more peaceful existence. I have a family, other considerations. So we left in search of a new home where we might settle. Those ex-slaves who chose to have returned aboard our longships. You will have seen them, no doubt?”
Taranc nodded, frowning. Ulfric continued.
“Others have remained behind, by their own choice as free karls. Fiona, also, has her freedom.”
“And if I do not agree to this… this … proposition of yours? Will you… insist?”
“You mean, is it my intention to take this village by force? No, it is not. If I cannot convince you, and the rest out there, of our honest and peaceful intent I shall request just sufficient time here for my wife to visit her kin and assure them that she is well and happy, and then we will leave in search of an uninhabited haven in which to make our home. We are here to farm, to settle, to put down roots. I believe an understanding between you and I will be of mutual benefit, and I know I can trust you. I placed something which was most precious to me in your hands and you did not let me down. For this I am in your debt, and I hope I have shown that I am also worthy of your trust.”
Taranc eyed Fiona and appeared to accept this.
“If I agree to your suggestion, my wife will skin me alive, and you alongside me.”
“Brynhild will accept us. Give her time.” He hesitated. “I suppose you told her everything?”
“Your sister is stubborn and wrong-headed on some things, but she is no fool. The evidence of your complicity was plainenough—the horse, the supplies, the fishing boat awaiting us at Hafrsfjord. I would not compound the deception by lying to her myself.” He hesitated, then added, “She was very… upset.”
Ulfric lowered his head into his hands. “Perhaps if I talk to her, I can make her understand that I did what I thought was best, for all of us. Including her. You and she are happy, yes?”
Taranc shrugged. “We have arrived at an understanding, of sorts, and I believe she is content. Or she was.”
“It is me.” Fiona gripped Taranc’s hand. “She loves you, too much perhaps. And Njal, of course. It was always me she hated. Perhaps if I were not here…”
“No!” Ulfric was vehement. “This was all about you, always. I love my sister, but I love you more. It is that simple. I will not give you up nor will I allow you to be hurt. I shall try to reason with her, explain how it was. Now that she is wed, with a child on the way, surely she will see things differently.”
“I wish you joy of that,” observed Taranc, “but whatever Brynhild’s opinion, I believe you are sincere. And our villagesarevulnerable to attack so perhaps there is benefit in considering your proposal. Even the sight of your longships on the shore will deter others from landing on our beach.”
“So you will consider allowing us to remain?” Ulfric got to his feet, and Taranc followed suit.
“Aye, I will. If Brynhild can be convinced to at least tolerate your presence, I will not object. But you must understand that I am chief here, in Aikrig, and Fiona’s father is lord at Pennglas, so…?”
“My father? He is alive?” Fiona had paled, her hands clasped together before her. Both men turned to regard her.
“Did I not say?” Taranc frowned. “Surely, I told you?—”
“No, you did not. And… I was too fearful to ask.”
“My apologies, for that should have been the first thing to be settled. Aye, he lives, and for reasons I cannot entirely fathom,your father and Brynhild appear to get on well, which is why she has taken refuge in his manor house rather than here.” He turned to Taranc. “The village of Pennglas is our closest neighbour, perhaps two miles or so from here. Ah, but I forget, you are no stranger to that particular settlement.”
Ulfric narrowed his eyes but allowed that jibe to pass unremarked. “We are not here to usurp anyone, nor to seize what is not ours. We will adapt, and fit in. We are here to settle, not to conquer.”
“Very well.” Taranc picked up his cloak. “We shall go now to Pennglas. Your father will be eager to see you, Fiona, and I suppose you must face your sister again sometime, Viking.”
The walkto Pennglas took perhaps a half hour, and was conducted in near silence. Again, Taranc and Ulfric walked side by side, and Fiona followed with Njal. Ulfric thought she appeared deep in thought, no doubt overwhelmed by the revelations of this day, and the realisation that soon she would soon see her father and stand within the walls of her family home once more. Ulfric allowed himself a few pangs of regret for the wrong he had done her, but in truth he would not behave very differently had he his time over.
He was what he was, and what was done was done. The future was what mattered, the future was yet to be forged while the past was already set in stone. He grimaced. If only he could convince Brynhild of that.
