Runestone (66 page)

Then he began to think of specific seating arrangements. He would speak with Odin later, but this was a way to vent his enthusiasm, planning in his mind. Odin would serve as steersman
in the stern of the first canoe. The other steersman could be either himself or Svenson. Maybe they could trade off. Or, Red Fawn was quite able to serve in that capacity. Any of the other adults could handle the prow of each canoe, and that would leave five people to sit amidships with the baggage. Three of these would be children. Yes, it was a very satisfactory plan. He would speak of it to Odin soon.

First, of course, they would assist the People in crossing the river. They were still waiting for the ice to clear and the river to subside from its swollen condition. But it does no harm to plan, and Nils’s mind was racing eagerly ahead. They would set the last boatload of the People on the west bank, go back to load the canoes, and start downstream, riding the current of the river on the great adventure. He was aware of his childish exuberance. In fact, he reveled in it. Combined with the skills of his Norse heritage, it would stand the party in good stead. He felt invincible, sometimes, glorying in the strength of his young manhood. What a thrill, to have conquered the dangers of this new world!

He had not the slightest doubt as to the success of the mission. The maps and charts that he and Svenson had created during the long winter appeared more convincing each time he looked at them. He thought of the calendar, and the likeliest time for exploration along the coast. Yes, summer should find much activity. It was entirely possible by now that there was a regular trade route up and down Vinland’s east coast, with Straumfjord the axis of the operation, and the bulky
knarrs
stopping along the coast as a routine operation.

But he must not count on it, he realized. It would be good, but more likely the first Norsemen they would encounter would be an exploring party in a dragon ship. One of the Ericksons, probably. Thorwald’s enthusiasm for exploration of the continent was well known, in contrast to Leif ’s more conservative tendency to establish settlements as he went.
Yes
, Nils fantasized,
probably Thorwald
. Would it not be a great triumph if they happened to meet Thorwald Erickson as he sailed up the great river? What a delightful scene he could imagine.

Good day, Thorwald
, he would say.
How goes it with you?

And Erickson would be speechless with astonishment, and Nils would continue.

I thank you for the sun-stone. It has been of great help in mapping the continent. Here are our charts. …

But that line of thought brought the memory of Helge Landsverk, and he felt again the sadness and failure of that doomed expedition.
No matter
, he told himself defensively.
This one will he a success
.

He returned to reality from his daydreams as Svenson approached. The old sailor appeared concerned.

“What is it, Sven?”

“I would talk with you, Nils.”

He had seldom seen Svenson so serious. Was there something wrong?

“Yes?”

“It is of this voyage downriver,” Sven began hesitantly. “Is it really … does it? … Nils, do we really want to do this?”

Nils was caught completely off guard. This was unlike Svenson, who had never before hesitated to accept
any
challenge. What had changed? He studied the older man as if he had never seen him before. Sven’s image in Nils’s mind had always been one of gentle power. It was a childish image, perhaps, dating far back. Yes, he had built an idea based on the old sailor’s appearance and good humor. As a teenager, Nils had imagined that Thor probably looked much like this. The red hair and beard, the burly good nature of the man, his strength and determination. Nils had outgrown that mental picture as a childish diversion. At least he thought he had, until now. He had never told anyone of this daydream of Sven as Thor, but now he found it was still there. He still thought of Sven as invincible, unafraid.

“What do you mean, Sven?”

“I am not sure, Nils. At one time, I would have been as eager as you.”

Nils did not know what to say. Could it be that Svenson was afraid of such an adventure? He would certainly not accuse him.

“We might get home,” Svenson continued, “or, maybe not. But would it really matter?”

“I do not understand, Sven. What are you saying?”

“Well … I suppose … is it worth the effort and risk?”

“Sven … your family …”

Ah, maybe that was it! Sven had a wife and children at home. Unlike Nils, who could return home with an exotic foreign wife, Svenson could not show up at home with Red Fawn. She must be left behind. That problem had not occurred to Nils. He now saw that he had touched on the heart of the matter.

Sven took a deep breath. “Nils,” he said, “we have been gone seven years. You know that they think us dead, because those at Straumfjord will have heard of the battle. Now, Gudred—my wife, you know—we have always had an understanding. If I was lost at sea, she would remarry without hesitation, no?”

“Yes, but—”

“Nils, she is remarried now. Our youngest child is grown.”

There was silence for a little while, and Sven continued. “It is better if she thinks me dead. Less problem for her.”

“And for you and Fawn?” Nils asked. He was uncertain as to what he thought of this.

“Maybe,” Svenson admitted. “We are very happy together. Nils, I have slept more nights with Fawn than with Gudred. Besides, I am feeling my age a little. My bones are stiff on cold mornings. To give up a warm bed and a good life to brave an unknown river … it sounds like a big journey.”

Nils had not thought of Svenson’s ever aging, but now he took another look, in a new light. Yes, the bright red of Sven’s hair was yellowing along the temples. There was a streak or two in his beard. The whole picture, Nils realized, was a bit incongruous. Here was an aging sailor, in the buckskins of a Skraeling, with his hair plaited in the style of the People, as was his own. The whole thing was striking Nils as funny, and he smiled.

“Nils,” Sven went on, “you are young and strong. You should go home. Ah, what tales you can tell! But tell them I died bravely, they will mourn, but they will be happy. Gudred will probably be pleased that she does not have two husbands!”

Sven chuckled now, and Nils could see how this course of action would simplify the old sailor’s last years. Probably quite a few of them. Though, as he thought of it, Sven had been to sea before Nils could remember. He must be how old? Possibly fifty?

As if in answer to these thoughts, Sven spoke again, very seriously. “I told your father, before your first voyage to the Isles, that I would look after you,” Svenson admitted. “He was my friend, as well as my employer. But now I am made to think that you can take care of yourself. I will help you get started, if you are set on going, but I see no need for either of us to go.”

“Sven, I have to. I can let our people know much about this new world, no?”

Svenson nodded. “Of course. I thought you would feel so. Besides, it is an adventure. Ah, you are as bad as the Ericksons,” he teased. “But I will help you when you start.”

Nils nodded, lost in thought. This put an entirely different light on the makeup of the party. Four adults, three children. It would be a more dangerous combination. Not insurmountable, but something to think on. He would talk to Odin about it, and soon.

“It is good, Sven,” he said.

“Remember, though,” Svenson said, “when you tell them of my death, make it good!”

“How would you like it?” asked Nils, laughing. “Overrun by hordes of enemy warriors?”

“Maybe,” agreed Svenson good-naturedly. “Weapon in hand, like a Viking, fighting till his last breath.” His face lighted. “I know! Tell them I died, ax in hand, against the giant bloodsucker of the Chalagees!”

Sven doubled over, chuckling in amusement at his own cleverness.

Nils sat unnoticed, in shocked silence. Of all the stories that they had heard over the years, how had Svenson happened to think of that one? A chill crept up the back of his neck, and his skin fairly crawled in dread.

“What is the matter?” asked Sven.

“It is nothing,” Nils lied. “That is good. How did you choose that story?”

Svenson shrugged. “Who knows? It is a good story. I dream about it sometimes.”

Sven said it casually, but Nils wondered. Was there more concern in the old sailor’s eyes than in his voice? Was this the reason, or one of the reasons, for Svenson
not
to start the long journey downriver?

Was Svenson’s dream as terrifying as his own?

N
ow Nils faced a dilemma. The decision of Svenson not to try to return to civilization was a complete surprise and shock. As he began to think about it, however, Nils could see Sven’s position.

It was not a matter of abandoning his family at home in Stadt. Not entirely anyway. That family had been without its husband and father for a long time. Legally, he was dead, lost on a voyage to the unknown. A sailor’s wife, it was assumed, would remarry after a decent time of mourning. That time could vary, but in this case there was the additional weight of the news that must have reached home. The expedition on which Svenson had sailed had been destroyed by Skraelings during the exploration of Vinland. There were no known survivors.

This news would have reached Stadt by way of Straumfjord within a year, probably. Gudred Svenson would have been free to marry six years ago, now, and undoubtedly would have done so. For Sven to return now would create more problems than it solved. What would Gudred do with two husbands? There were many pitfalls, both emotional and legal, here. The woman would probably have to choose between
them. … Maybe Svenson’s way was best, to spare her that torture, and himself the pain of possible rejection.

There was another factor, too. Sven’s marriage to Red Fawn appeared to be a happy one. To go back to Stadt, Sven would have to leave Fawn. He could not take a wife home to where another wife waited. But, by leaving Fawn behind, he would make
her
eligible to remarry. And what if Gudred elected to stay with her present husband? Sven would have nothing at all. If he could avoid all this potential hurt to so many people, why not? It seemed the wisest choice.

All of this reasoning, however, made Nils’s choices no easier. He did not relish the idea of an expedition with only two men, and five women and children. Not that the women would be any burden. They were both as capable as any man. Still, their primary concern would be protection of the children. This was as it should be. But that would leave only himself and Odin for defense if necessary. It was not an insurmountable situation, but it made him uneasy. This was a far different scenario than when Sven and Fawn would have provided two more unfettered warriors for defense of the party. He must think carefully on this, and discuss it with Odin.

As it happened, Odin approached him first.

“My almost-brother,” the Skraeling began, concern showing in his face, “I would speak with you.”

Nils nodded. “You have talked to Fire Man.”

“Yes … But that is not it.”

Nils experienced a moment of panic. There was
worse
news?

“What?” Nils demanded. “How bad?”

“Not really bad,” Odin said. “But bad just now. Hawk Woman is with child.”

Nils felt his plans crumbling, his world falling apart under him. There was a rush of anger for an instant. The actions and desires of others were taking from him all the power of decision that he thought he had. It had been hard enough to justify a journey into the unknown with the children, but with a pregnant woman?

“How far?” he asked numbly.

Odin gave his characteristic shrug. “Two, three moons, maybe.”

Nils calculated quickly. That would put the time of birthing in the autumn. In the Moon of Falling Leaves, maybe. Or in the Moon of Madness.

The whole thing was madness. A twinge of resentment made him wonder if Hawk Woman had intentionally accomplished this to defeat the expedition. She would be at her largest and most unwieldly shape just at the critical part of the voyage on the lower river. It would be possible for her to go. The women of the People often did hard work and even travel during a pregnancy. But it would limit her effectiveness in defense, in handling the canoe.

“Hawk’s heart is glad,” Odin said. “But she knows that is not what you would wish. For that part, she has sorrow.”

Nils was embarrassed that he had suspected her of duplicity in the timing of this pregnancy.

“Tell her it is nothing,” he mumbled.

Odin nodded, and both were fully aware that such a statement was ludicrous under the circumstances.

“I am made to think,” Nils said slowly, “that this ends the journey down the river. Shall we use the canoes to help the People across and then leave them behind?”

“Maybe not,” Odin said thoughtfully. “You and I …”

“You would leave your family?” Nils asked, shocked at the idea.

“No, no, only a little while,” Odin said. “You and Dove go on, I come back.”