Free Sword Brothers by Jerry Autieri

months to put together a scheme that would take Ulfrik off the board. Magnus worked like a bull assembling all the pieces, bringing Throst and Konal together and carefully planning every step of that plan. I had to work on Hrolf myself, so he put the plan in motion without even realizing it. No one ever knew I had sent Ulfrik into his enemy's hands. That's a great deal more thorough than having him shot in front of dozens of loyal hirdmen. What were you even thinking?"
    Mord's fists clenched and his pulse quickened, but he turned his head aside. The slave had shrunk into the darkness again, his narrow head lit only with wavering hearth firelight. Mord squinted at the slave and he slid from the bench and fled to the far corner of the hall.
    "We had five years to do what we needed," Gunther said. "I had cleared the road then you shit all over it. You let that brat of Hrolf's get captured by the Franks. You were to be grooming him, planting seeds of a future friendship, and you almost got him killed."
    "I was letting him have the adventures he desired. It was bad luck that the Franks attacked." Mord knew how lame this excuse was. It was as weak now as it had been the dozens of other times he had fallen back on it.
    "Oh yes, so you've told me. Luck can be good or bad, but a man can help which way his luck turns. Bad luck was Ulfrik's return. Even worse luck is he recovered as well as he has. Now look at the land he possesses. He's practically a count himself. Hrolf does not see him as a threat to his rule. He still thinks Ulfrik is his luck."
    Gunther stood, then carefully picked his way to Mord's table, keeping his gnarled hand on a table to guide himself. He set his cataract eye on Mord. "That land, those farms and those trade posts, those should be yours. I saw this coming years ago, that Ulfrik would grab the glory and spoils to himself. He would set you aside as he did me. I have served Hrolf all my life, and he has made my old age comfortable. But he has not done well by you. That land is precious, the very heart of Hrolf's fortune. Whoever controls that land controls Hrolf."
    "Then Ulfrik is even more formidable than before."
    "Ulfrik is a monster on the battlefield and a leader of men. But he is simple, much like the Frankish king. He is an honest man, and will keep faith with Hrolf until he dies. He would never challenge Hrolf, and Hrolf knows this. Before he realizes what power he has, or worse yet decides to parcel out the land to his sons, he must be removed. It's no longer just him, but his three children. Gods be cursed, but they are craftier than he is, especially the youngest one. Gunnar would not hesitate to abuse whatever power he grasps. Ulfrik has a den of wolves in those three sons, and all of them must be cleared out. Killing the dominant wolf alone will not destroy that pack."
    Mord's fists clenched tighter. "The the sooner we act, the better."
    His father shook his head. "Have you learned nothing from me? Now is not the time to act, but to watch. Everything has changed. Enemies are now allies and old allies have to decide where they stand. You have been too vocal in your opposition of Ulfrik these years. You must become his friend again, or at least lead Hrolf to believe you have set aside your differences."
    "Would that I could bury an ax in his skull while his back is turned."
    "And if that was the answer, I'd have done it years ago." Gunther felt along the table edge to find a seat beside Mord. "A whole world of revenge would fall upon you. Just think of Einar Snorrason and the way he lops off heads with his ax like a man knocking apples from a tree. Besides, Hrolf would never stand for murder. Ulfrik and his sons must be the cause of their own undoing."
    "And how would that come to be?"
    "I don't know yet. But here is what you must consider. Hrolf has vowed to become a Christian, and that will mean the return of churches. Have you not paid attention to how the Christian priests build their churches?