The dawn of the iron dra.., p.30
The Dawn of the Iron Dragon, page 30
part #2 of Saga of the Iron Dragon Series
“I don’t have it either.”
“No, but you have something else. Harald may have agreed to leave you alone, but I have not. I have no interest in your weapons or your technology, but there are others like Harald, who will pay a price for tools that they believe will give them an advantage over their enemies.”
“So the great Hrólfr turns out to be a simple weapons dealer.”
“I intend to rule all of Normandy. To do so, I need silver to build castles and pay men-at-arms.”
“I can’t help you. As I said, I am not an engineer.”
“Yes, that is why I will also need your friends. I understand a man named O’Brien designed the hand grenade that almost killed me. I will need him and the woman, Reyes.”
“You expect them to be your slaves?”
“I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. At the very least, I can make you a lot more comfortable than you are in Iceland.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t betray my friends.”
“Then this negotiation is over. Tell Ebles the attacks will resume shortly.”
“Wait,” Gabe said. “What if I can get you gold instead of silver?”
“How much gold?”
“A hundred pounds. Maybe more.”
“Where are you going to get a hundred pounds of gold?”
“My people have a mine. We have already begun to refine the ore, but we need some time to get it to you.”
“Where is this mine?”
“I can’t tell you the location, but it’s a few days’ voyage from Rouen. As you know, we have ways of communicating over long distances. I just need to speak to our man at the mine, and I can have the gold here in a week.” All of this, except for the existence of a gold mine, was a lie. Gabe had no way of making contact with Sten, and they still didn’t know if Sten’s expedition had even found the gold. Still, he figured a lie with a germ of truth would be more convincing.
“Then I will see you again in a week. The attacks continue until then.”
“I may be able to get the council to pay you part of the ransom now.”
“How much?”
“A hundred pounds of silver.”
“Three hundred.”
“I can’t get three hundred. I might be able to get two. The balance will be paid in gold, at a ratio of eight pounds of silver to one pound of gold.”
“I have it on good authority that Paris was willing to pay Sigurd three hundred pounds of silver. As I am in possession of Sigurd, that money should be mine.”
“That reward was to be paid after the siege ended.”
“And it will end, as long as you pay the balance in a week as promised. Gold or silver, it makes no difference to me.”
“If I am paying for Sigurd, I want him released.”
“No. Sigurd remains my hostage.”
“You have the Count of Paris!”
“Yes, but I suspect Sigurd is dearer to you than any Frankish nobleman. He remains my captive until the full ransom is paid.”
“I demand to see him, at least.”
“After I get the three hundred pounds of silver.”
“No. I see him now, or the deal is off. I’m not paying you a copper penny until I know Sigurd is alive and well.”
Hrólfr considered this and nodded. “He is alive. Whether he is well enough to warrant a ransom of three hundred pounds of silver I will leave to you to determine.”
Chapter Fifty-eight
Gabe was first taken to Odo, who was staying in a small house that had been built inside the prisoner stockade. Odo was surprised that Gabe, rather than Ebles or one of the other defense council members, had come, but he spoke frankly to Gabe of Hrólfr’s offer. Gabe informed the count in general terms of the negotiations taking place to get him back. Odo seemed to be receiving good treatment from the Vikings; he was anxious but in generally good spirits.
Gabe was then taken to Sigurd, who was in a shack with a dirt floor across the stockade yard. Sigurd had fared considerably worse than Odo. He’d obviously been beaten; his face was bruised and swollen in several places, and clumps of dried blood stuck to the hair on his exposed chest. He sat on the floor with his hands tied behind his back.
“What the hell is this?” Gabe growled. “Untie this man!”
The guard who had let him into the room glanced at Hrólfr, who stood at the door. Hrólfr nodded, and the man walked slowly to Sigurd and cut his bonds. Gabe helped Sigurd to his feet.
“Are you all right, Sigurd?” Sigurd hadn’t looked up since Gabe entered the room. He nodded weakly.
“Get him some food and water,” Gabe said. “And a cloth and basin to wash up.”
Hrólfr regard Gabe curiously, saying nothing.
Gabe gritted his teeth. “I am not giving you a goddamned ounce of silver unless you get this man cleaned up and get him some food and water. Is that understood?”
“Do it,” Hrólfr said with a shrug.
“I’m working on getting you out of here,” Gabe said. “I need a week to get the ransom together, but I’ll make sure you’re well-treated in the meantime.”
Sigurd nodded tiredly again.
Only when he was satisfied that Sigurd was being cared for did Gabe allow Hrólfr to escort him back to the tent. “I will inspect him again before delivering the silver,” Gabe said, as they walked back. “He’d better be in much better shape, or you’re not getting your money. Between you and me, I don’t give a damn about Paris. If that man has one more bruise on him, I’ll see Paris burn before you get a penny.”
“He will be well-treated,” Hrólfr said. “Tell Ebles the negotiations are on hold.”
“What about Sinric?”
“I will handle Sinric. You have my word. We will cease our attacks until tomorrow at this time, when I will expect payment of three hundred pounds of silver. That buys you six more days. When that time is up, you will either pay my ransom or I will resume the attacks. And the first thing I hurl into the city will be Sigurd’s corpse.”
*****
Gabe returned to the city and met with Ebles, informing him of Hrólfr’s offer. Ebles called a meeting of the defense council, and Gabe briefed them on his visit to Hrólfr’s camp. Áengus, who had proved his tactical worth over the past week, joined the council for the meeting. The council had been reduced to three members, due to the deaths of Robert and the marquis, Humbert. Those who remained were Ebles and the two counts, Grimald and Theodulf.
“We’re not giving Hrólfr three hundred pounds of silver for the return of Sigurd,” said Count Grimald.
“It’s a down payment on a ransom for the city,” Gabe replied.
“A ransom we can’t pay,” Ebles said.
“The King will pay the rest.”
“Charles will never pay Hrólfr. And in any case, I have seen no sign that he is interested in our plight.”
“We have sent word to him,” Gabe said. “He will arrive soon.” This prediction was based solely on Gabe’s knowledge of history; they had still seen no sign that Charles was mobilizing his army.
“These predictions of imminent victory grow tiresome,” Grimald said. “The last man we took to be a prophet is imprisoned in Hrólfr’s camp, and Count Odo along with him. We need to be realistic. If we pay three hundred pounds of silver now and are unable to pay the balance, we will have forfeited our treasure for no gain. Hrólfr will take Paris.”
“Charles will come,” Gabe said. “We just need to give him more time.”
“I’m inclined to agree with Grimald,” Theodulf said. “We may as well surrender now rather than spending all our silver to buy another week. The people are hungry.” Theodulf was right: since the Norsemen had tightened their lines around the city, no food was getting in, and most of their stores had been eaten. In another week, the food shortage was going to be severe.
“You truly believe,” said Ebles, “that King Charles will come?”
“I am certain of it,” Gabe replied. “The King knows the value of Paris. It is the gateway to the rest of Frankia. He cannot let it fall to the Norsemen. This is why he sent Henry of Saxony. If he knew Henry had failed, he would be here already.”
“Who is this messenger you’ve sent?”
“A woman named Helena,” Gabe replied. “She is the daughter of Leo, the famous mathematician in Constantinople. She is well-spoken and very persuasive.” And relying on a fourteen-year-old boy as her translator.
“The fate of Paris in the hands of a woman!” Grimald spat.
“If we pay the three hundred pounds of silver, we are committed to paying the balance,” Ebles said. “We cannot make that commitment on behalf of the King.”
“It will be up to Charles whether he wishes to fight,” Gabe said. “He is within his rights to cancel our deal.”
“But you think he will pay?”
“I do.”
“I don’t believe it,” Theodulf said. “The King would not betray Paris in this way. Not after we have stood for half a year.”
“Make up your mind, Theodulf,” Ebles said with a smirk. “Is the King uninterested in our plight or is he committed to defending the honor of Paris?”
Theodulf scowled but said nothing.
“The important thing,” Áengus interjected, “is that he will come. Hrólfr and Sinric cannot stand against Charles’s knights. One way or another, Paris will be saved.”
“No,” Grimald said. “If Charles cared about Paris, he would have come already. I say we ask for Hrólfr’s conditions for surrender.”
“You will end up paying more than three hundred pounds of silver,” Gabe said.
“Perhaps. But we will have peace, and the people will have food.”
“All right, arguments have been made,” Ebles said. “We will hold a vote. As honorary members, Gabe and Áengus cannot vote. That leaves only the three of us. Grimald has already voted in favor.”
“I also vote for peace,” Theodulf said. “If we are going to give up our silver, I want our dear Count returned to us, and I want the people of Paris to have bread.”
“Then I suppose my vote is of no account,” Ebles said. “We will ask Hrólfr for terms.”
“If I may ask,” Áengus said, “how would you have voted?”
“I am not inclined to surrender,” Ebles said. “I would be willing to pay three hundred pounds of silver if there’s a chance we might yet defeat the heathens.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Theodulf said. “The issue has been decided. I will send a messenger to Hrólfr’s camp with our request.”
“Hold on,” Gabe said. “Four members of the council remain living.”
“Count Odo is being held hostage,” Grimald said.
“And do you imagine that invalidates his opinion on the matter?” Ebles asked. “Gabe is right, and may the Lord forgive us for our presumptuousness. Odo has every right to cast a vote.”
“I will talk to him,” Gabe said. “Hrólfr allowed me to see him once. I believe I can convince him to let me talk to him once more, if he thinks it will help get him his ransom.”
“You will poison him against us,” Theodulf said.
“How weak-minded do you believe Odo to be?” Ebles asked. “Gabe has no more sway over Odo than he does over you.”
“How can we trust him to relay Odo’s vote accurately?” Grimald asked.
“I will have him write it out and sign it in his own hand,” Gabe said.
“If Odo votes against asking for terms, we will have a tie,” Áengus said. “Then what? Allow honorary members to cast the deciding vote?”
“If we deadlock,” Ebles said, “no action can be taken. That means no surrender, but also no payment. The council will refuse Hrólfr’s offer, and fighting will continue.”
“And we will lose,” Theodulf said.
“If Odo wishes to make the payment, I will not stand in his way,” Grimald said.
“Then it is settled,” Ebles said. “Odo’s vote will carry the matter. If he wishes to surrender, we will do so. If he wishes to pay the ransom in the hopes of delaying the Norsemen’s attacks until Charles arrives, we will pay it.”
*****
Odo seemed puzzled at Gabe’s request. “We have seen no indication that Charles intends to come to our aid.”
“Not yet,” Gabe said, “but he will come.”
“I suppose you have prophetic visions too?”
“I’m not a big believer in the supernatural, but Charles is not stupid. He knows he cannot afford to lose Paris.”
“Sigurd was sure of himself as well.”
“Sigurd has been right about everything so far.”
“His foreknowledge didn’t prevent his capture at the hands of Hrólfr.”
“Yeah, and Jonah was swallowed by a whale. What’s your point?” Gabe was growing tired of being diplomatic.
Odo smiled at this, but replied, “Jonah was being punished by God for his refusal to save Nineveh.”
“Sigurd has not betrayed Paris.”
“He has betrayed you.”
“I have nothing against Sigurd. He is a good man, and if there’s anything I can do to save him, I will do it.”
“And that’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” Odo asked. “You care not for Paris.”
“Paris will stand. Charles will come. We just need to give him time.”
Odo considered this for some time. “I do not know what to make of your prophecies, Gabe,” he said at last, “but I have to believe our Lord will not abandon Paris. We will give Charles a chance to save us. May God have mercy on us if he does not come.”
Chapter Fifty-nine
Five days later, Carpenter finally reported that Charles had left Sélestat with an army of two thousand knights. He would not arrive in time.
It had taken Helena and Eckart four days to travel from Paris to Sélestat, traveling at top speed by horse. Charles’s army would take at least twice as long, and Paris had only two days left before the Vikings would resume their attacks. They had given Hrólfr three hundred pounds of silver, and it had bought them nothing but another week of worry and hunger. Ebles called another meeting of the council.
“We must surrender,” Theodulf said. “It is our only chance. We took a gamble on Charles and we lost.”
“Charles is on his way,” Grimald said. “Surely we can last two days after the attacks resume.”
“How do we even know he’s coming?” Theodulf asked. “We’re relying on the testimony of this man, who still has not adequately explained how he can know what is happening two hundred miles away.” Gabe had given them only a very vague explanation of his method of surveillance; the council was skeptical at first, but they were impressed with his uncannily accurate description of the Henry’s assault, which was later confirmed by eye-witness accounts.
“I’m afraid I must agree with Theodulf,” Ebles said. “Charles will not arrive until Thursday at the earliest. If Hrólfr resumes his assault on Tuesday as he has promised, we will not be able to hold Paris until Charles arrives. We have fewer than a hundred fighting men left, and those are tired and hungry. They cannot begin to cover the entire city wall. There is no point in allowing them to be slaughtered so that we can last a few more hours.”
“We cannot surrender,” Gabe said. “Charles will arrive in time. I know it.”
Ebles sighed. “Gabe, I understand that Sigurd is a friend of yours. But he is only one man. Many more men will die if we try to hold out until Charles arrives.”
“What about Odo?” Gabe asked. “Do you not care about your dear count either?”
“Hrólfr will not kill Odo,” Theodulf said. “He is too valuable.”
“Spoken like someone who is not being held prisoner by a horde of Vikings,” Grimald observed.
“The only way we can ensure the safe return of both men is by surrendering,” Ebles said. “There is no point in dithering now. Charles will not make it to Paris in time.”
“What if there is another way to save them?” Áengus asked. All eyes turned toward him.
Grimald spoke: “If you suggest a raid on Hrólfr’s camp, monk, save your breath. It would be suicide. We don’t have the men.”
“We don’t need many men,” Áengus said. “We only need Sinric.”
*****
Gabe climbed hand-over-hand down the rope, stabilizing himself with the balls of his feet against the stone wall. With the cloud cover, it was near-pitch-black, but he still let out a sigh of relief as his feet hit the ground. Njáll was already on the ground. Gabe gave a wave and the rope was pulled up.
The two men made their way silently to a boat that had been surreptitiously lowered earlier. They picked up the boat and carried it down the rocky bank to the river. They got in, and Njáll rowed them toward a torch flickering in the distance.
After crossing the river, they climbed onto the bank and hid the boat in the bushes. The trees and brambles were thick here, and, not wanting to risk using a lantern or an axe, they spent nearly an hour clawing their way up to the plain. When at last they emerged from the trees, they saw the line of torches marking Sinric’s camp a hundred or so yards away. They moved stealthily until they were within twenty paces of the line and then spread out, raising their hands and walking with deliberate slowness. It took only a few seconds for the first guard to notice them.
“Stop!” the man shouted. “Who approaches?”
Gabe stopped, still holding his hands in the air. “My name is Gabe. We’re emissaries from Paris. I’d like to speak with Sinric.”
“Oh, you would? I suppose you’d like to put that sword through his belly as well?” Five more men carrying spears and shields had approached.
In point of fact, Gabe was wearing two swords—a broadsword on his left and a short sword on his right—but he decided not to mention this. “You can take our weapons,” Gabe said. “We just want to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“Delivering the Count of Paris into his hands.”
Gabe and Njáll were disarmed and escorted to the building where Sinric lived. They soon found themselves across a table from the chief himself, a brawny man with a chaotic mass of dirty blond hair.
