“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.
