Eric's Demons
Chapter Twenty
Hiding a grin of triumph from Eric Northman was nigh on impossible, but Ulrich managed it. Every night he had tried to convince the viking to take a break from the hunt, and allow Olaf to try. Since the battle at the steel mill they had gone out every night to hunt the surviving Nephilim who had fled the battle, never finding any trace of their enemy.
And every night Eric had talked incessantly about Sookie, the pretty little telepath who had most likely saved them at the last, when it looked as if the fight with the Nephilim was lost. Ulrich remembered the detail of the fight, how he had told Sookie that if they were overrun he would give her the dignity of a good death. So many of his brothers died that night, all veterans of the battle centuries before near Rome. Ulrich remembered them fondly, without sadness or regret. Now they would be in Valhalla molesting the serving wenches at the best table nearest the fire.
Eric Northman had been his friend longer than Ulrich cared to remember. Ulrich's clan had been raiding up the coast that year, the harsh winter forcing them to prey on fellow vikings. It was a hard time, but Ulrich remembered it fondly. Truth be told Ulrich liked to remember everything from that time fondly.
Olaf had led them back to the steel mill, hoping to once again pick up the trail of the Nephilim that had fled the fight. He was straining to hear or see or smell something that would show them where to look. Ulrich had tried this many times since the battle, but so far neither he nor Eric had found anything. It was frustration at their continued failure that had made him so determined to convince Eric to take a break.
Four longboats had beached near the walls in the middle of the night. As quietly as a viking raiding party can manage they secured the craft on the beach then turned their attention to the dwellings nearby. They met by fierce resistance, Ulrich's raiding party was pushed back from the settlement they had attacked by ferocious warriors who had clearly been waiting for them. His chief died on the blade of a massive blonde warrior who seemed not to feel any of the wounds inflicted on him. In shame Ulrich had been captured, despite his best efforts to make them kill him when it was clear his side had lost. But the large blonde warrior had spared him, and after he had disarmed Ulrich and bound him with ropes, he sat to talk with him.
Eric Northman was a mighty foe, but he was a charismatic leader and a born thinker too. Ulrich had never had much use for thinking before, he had only had to follow his chief's orders and kill the enemies before then.
The huge blonde warrior had a plan. As the buildings around him burned he told Ulrich of his vision. He wanted to lead a party of veterans to raid in the lush but better defended lands of Northern Europe. With the right group of men they could all become wealthy, could all have all the cattle and women they would ever need. And he claimed to know a secret, one that would guarantee them victory, if he had the right group of warriors.
With all of his own people dead Ulrich could see that he had been sent as a tool of the gods to protect this visionary. He was aware of the help Godric gave him to see this simple fact. While he was still bound Godric showed him Eric's secret. It was that night that he became one of them.
Olaf had found the scent of woodsmoke on the air. For a moment Ulrich was with him again, alert to the possibility that his comrade might have found something. Then he was back with Eric and Godric as they raided and murdered and raped and pillaged their way across Europe. Each time they came up against a warrior of note Eric recruited him, growing his fighting force into a fierce collection of Europe's finest killers. For centuries they wreaked havoc.
Until Nula came along.
They had found her in Donegal as they raided off the coast of rain swept Ireland.
Beautiful and deadly she fought at Eric's side by night, slept there by day. She loved him, and he her. Ulrich never understood why they didn't make her immortal as they had done for him. But after the battle at Rome, when the warriors had moved to the New World she had left Eric, shunned contact with him. His friend's heart was broken, nothing any of them did for him could help heal the wound she had left on him.
Olaf had found a campfire. Five hunters stood around something on the ground that turned out to be a fellow vampire. Ulrich recognized Bill Compton at once, knew him as Sookie's lover before Eric. But he couldn't let these men drain a fellow bloodsucker. His mind had been only half on the job when he helped Olaf break up the hunters' party.
When it was done he and Olaf took the hapless Compton to the club, left him there for the others to look after. He didn't fancy telling Eric what he had done, even though he knew it was the right thing to do.
They flew together back to the colonial mansion. Ulrich was puzzled to find a rented Ford full of suitcases parked out at the front, and even more puzzled when he heard Eric and Sookie argue inside. He strode up the steps at the front and straight in through the door. Sookie looked at him like he was filthy and covered in blood, which he was, then continued to berate Eric.
Veteran of hundreds of battles at Eric's side, Ulrich chose now to let him fight his own fight.