The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) (12 page)

"It is clear to me that there is much unsaid here, and that you do not wish to say it. But you are known throughout the lands of the Danes as a man of great honor. I must trust that you have your reasons—although King Horik will not be pleased with me that I did not learn them. The ships you seek, lightly manned and commanded by the man he has described" he said, nodding at me, "did pass this way. It
was
ten days ago. I remember the captain well, for he, like you, had little to say about his business."

"He spoke his name to you?" Hastein asked.

"He said his name was Harald, though I had reason to doubt it. The warriors standing with him, when I rode down to the shore where they were cooking their evening meal, looked surprised when he spoke the name, and two laughed aloud. I found him a somewhat ill-mannered man," Ragnvald added.

It was evil humor on Toke's part to use Harald's name. "Did you see the woman I described?" I asked.

"I did not. But the ships were tented for the night by the time I arrived. They were anchored offshore, as you are, and I did not go aboard."

"I thank you for this information," Hastein said.

Ragnvald nodded, then drained his cup of wine and handed it to Cullain. "I do not know why you are pursuing these men, although I suspect the woman is at least a part of it. But ten days is a long lead."

*   *   * 

Later that evening, after Ragnvald had left, I asked Hastein why he had not just told him we were pursuing Toke, and why.

"We do not yet know for certain where Toke has gone. He told Ubbe, the slain foreman, that he was sailing for Birka. But we do not know if that was the truth or a lie. All we know as yet is that he stopped for the night here, in this bay on the coast of Sjaelland, ten days ago. And from here, he almost certainly sailed down the great belt. There would be no other reason for him to pass this way. So thus far all we can be sure of—but it is no small thing—is that he did not sail north, for Norway, or beyond, to England or Ireland.

"But beyond the great belt, he could just as well have continued on south to Hedeby, instead of east into the Austmarr, toward Birka. Or he could still be nearby, in Danish waters, seeking allies. His mother's father is jarl on the island of Fyn, is he not?" I nodded, and Hastein continued. "And even if Toke did sail east, there are many places other than Birka, within the Austmarr, he could be heading for."

Hastein made it sound hopeless. My face must have reflected how discouraged I felt, hearing his words. "Then what will we do?" I asked.

"For now, we must continue on toward Birka. It is all we have to go on, and if he came this way on the first leg of his journey, Toke could in truth be bound there."

"But why did you not tell Ragnvald it was Toke we are hunting?"  It was a question Hastein had still not answered.

"Because Ragnvald would be bound to tell King Horik, and it would quickly become common knowledge—and the source of much talk and speculation—within the king's longhouse. Many folk pass through there. Who knows to whom or where word of our quest might spread to? Our only advantage, at this time, is that Toke does not know for certain that he is being pursued, or if so, by how many."

"I wonder why Toke would be sailing to Birka," I murmured, more to myself than to Hastein.

Hastein stared at me silently for a few moments, then asked, "Why do you think he stole your sister Sigrid, and took her away with him?"

It was a question that, in truth, I had tried not to think of. Toke had twice raped Astrid, Sigrid's maid, and had tried to rape my mother—the act that had led to his banishment by Hrorik. And he had murdered Harald, his own foster brother. If he would do all of that, I could not imagine he would feel constrained by the fact that Sigrid was his foster sister. And I could well believe that, in Toke's twisted mind, hurting her, dishonoring her, would be a way to further express his hatred of Harald and Hrorik, and to strike out at me. But what then?

"I fear…" I hated putting my fears into words, as if speaking them aloud might make them more real. "I fear he took her to dishonor her. And because Ragnvald did not see her, I fear he may have killed her afterwards. I fear she may already be dead."

Hastein considered my words for a time, as if weighing the possibility that they could be true. He took a deep breath and blew it out, then said, "Perhaps, but perhaps not. Such actions would not explain why Toke would be sailing for Birka—if, in truth, he is. I believe he could have taken her for another reason. There is a great slave market there."

At first I did not understand. And then I did. "But Sigrid is not a slave," I protested.  "She is a Dane, and of noble blood. Surely the Sveas would not allow such as her to be sold into slavery in their markets!" Even as I said the words, in my heart I did not believe them.

"Some buyers who purchase slaves in Birka travel from there down the eastern road and trade with the Araby kingdoms. Slavers who buy for the Arab markets pay high prices for comely slave girls. Those who are especially fair, and have red or golden hair, are particularly prized by the Arabs. Women of beauty such as that are rarely born into slavery."

When I did not answer, Hastein added. "We do not know that this was Toke's plan. But if the Norns have woven this fate for her…" he shrugged. "No one can escape their fate. It is the way of things."

*   *  *

After I'd finished my evening meal, rinsed my bowl, cup and spoon, and had stowed them once more in my sea chest aboard the
Gull
, I returned to the shore and climbed the slope that rose above it to relieve my comrade Einar, who was one of the four sentries standing watch.

"I am not due to be relieved yet," he told me, "and someone has already been ordered to relieve me later."

"It does not matter. Go and get some food, while it is still warm. And tell the man who was to relieve you that I will stand his watch, too. I have much on my mind, and do not feel I can sleep. I would rather be sleepless up here than in my bed."

I passed the long hours of the night pacing back and forth along the crest of the slope over the beach, wrapped tightly in my cloak. It was a good thing that we were camped for the night in a land where there was no threat of attack, for my mind was not on my duty. I could not drive from my thoughts the image of Sigrid being sold into slavery. She had told me once that she could not wed a man she did not love. Did she now face a far worse fate—becoming the property of a foreigner in some distant land who would use her however and whenever he wished? Such a life would be far worse than the slavery I had endured. I wondered whether, for a woman such as Sigrid, death might become preferable.

Eventually weariness overcame even such troubling thoughts, and when four warriors climbed up from the beach in the last hours before dawn to stand the final watch, I stumbled down the slope past them, eager to snatch a few hours of sleep aboard the
Gull
. Because I had been farthest out along the hillside, the other three sentries who'd been relieved were well ahead of me by the time I reached the beach, and were already climbing their ships' gangplanks.

As I approached the water's edge I heard a sound, a rattling of stones, off to my right along the shore. There should not have been anyone there.

Swinging my shield around in front of me—I had been carrying it slung by its long leather strap across my back—I grasped the wooden rod that spanned its back side and formed its grip, and held my spear more tightly in my right hand, extending its blade out ahead of me.

"Is someone there?" I called, in a low voice. There was no response. Then, after a moment, I heard the sound again: as if two rocks were scraping against each other, followed by the sound of a stone falling and hitting others, not far ahead.

I dropped into a crouch, so that my shield covered more of my body, and crept forward, peering into the dark above its top edge. A low shape appeared out of the darkness to my left. As I drew closer, I realized it was the cairn of stones that Torvald had stacked at the water's edge. With a start I realized that the ram's head he had placed atop it was gone. An involuntary shiver ran down my spine.

From somewhere close ahead, I heard a soft crunching in the sand, as if someone—or something—was moving quietly, carefully, across the beach, trying to not be heard.

"Who is there?" I hissed. The sound stopped. I edged forward one step, then another. Suddenly I realized that there was a shape in the darkness ahead of me. It looked very large—larger than a man.

"
Unnnnhh. Unh! Unh!
"

The sound, coming from the dark shape ahead, was not human. Was there a god, or some kind of servant of the gods, on the beach ahead of me, come to claim the sacrifice? Or could it be a draugr, one of the walking dead who rose from their graves in the night? Either way, I did not want to find out. Fear overcame me, and I turned and ran for the
Gull
's gangplank.

*   *  *

The morning dawned as dark as my mood. Rain had begun to fall just before daybreak—a steady, mist-like curtain of rain so light that it made no noise striking the tented shelter above the
Gull
's deck. It was enough, though, to saturate the awnings and sail until they dripped through on those sleeping below, enough to make the pile of firewood stacked on shore too wet to burn, when Cullain tried to boil barley for a simple porridge to break the night's fast before we took ship. It was enough to soak into our cloaks and tunics and trousers and leave them sodden and cold.

And the rain killed the wind, too. "Oarsmen, draw your oars," Hastein ordered.  "It appears we will do some rowing this day."

I was standing at the high center rack with the others who rowed in the stern when Tore nudged me in the ribs with his elbow and said excitedly, "Look, Halfdan! The cairn of stones on the shore. The ram's head is gone from it. The gods must have taken it."

What he said was true. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Torvald, who was walking past headed for the stern, paused and said, "You see, Tore. It is as the jarl and I told you. The sacrifice was not rejected by the gods."

Tore nodded. "No, no, it was not," he agreed, sounding relieved. Drawing his oar, he turned and hurried back toward his rowing position.

Torvald watched him go, then shook his head and grinned. "Tore is a good man to have at your side in battle, but somewhat simpleminded."

"Something took the ram's head," I murmured, as I reached up and pulled my oar from the rack. I was not about to volunteer what I had seen.

"Indeed," Torvald answered.

I was turning to head back to my rowing position in the stern when I heard, from where Torvald was standing behind me, "
Unnnnhh!
"

For a brief moment, the fear I had felt last night returned, and I froze. Then, as my face turned bright red from anger and embarrassment, I scowled back over my shoulder at him.

Torvald held a finger to his lips and said, "Shhh." In a low voice, he added, "I am glad you did not throw your spear in the darkness and skewer me."

*   *   *

Under power of our oars, we headed out of the mouth of the bay and turned south, into the broad channel between the islands of Sjaelland and Fyn known as the great belt. All day we rowed, trading turns at the oars with our extra crew members, for the wind did not return. The coastline of Sjaelland curved away from us until it was only a low smudge barely visible off to the east. Out on the open sea there was no way to measure our progress, or even to feel that we were truly moving forward at all. It was just endlessly dip, pull, raise the blade from the water and rock forward, and then do it all again, over and over and over, while the constant mist of rain fell. At least the labor at the oars kept us warm.

We rowed and rowed until finally, as dusk was falling, we reached a short, broad peninsula jutting out from the western coast of Sjaelland. We beached the prows of our ships on the sandy, gently sloping shore, near its tip, and made camp for the night. The land inland was low and flat, with large stretches of marsh. It did not look inviting.

"We made slow progress this day," Hastein said, shaking his head as we gathered on shore, stretching our legs and swatting at the tiny flying bugs that had swarmed out from the marshes, as we waited for Cullain to bring a simple meal of boiled barley porridge to completion.  "Very slow. We have not even cleared the great belt. I have never seen an entire day with no wind at all in these waters."

Hrodgar and Stig, who were standing nearby, both nodded in agreement. "It was a strange day," Hrodgar said. "The belt was as slick and still as a pond. But at least the rain has finally stopped."

The wind returned with the dawn, a gentle but steady breeze blowing out of the northeast. By mid-morning we cleared the southern end of the belt, and after sailing through a narrow channel between two small islands off the southwest corner of Sjaelland, we turned our course toward the southeast, following the southern coastline of the island of the kings. Almost as if to make up for its absence the day before, the wind shifted soon after and began blowing harder and from the northwest, pushing our ships along at such a pace that the
Gull
seemed to almost skim across the surface of the sea.

We broke our voyage earlier than yester-day, after reaching the island of Falster, south of Sjaelland, in the late afternoon. "We have not had a decent meal since the first night of our journey," Hastein explained. "I, for one, am hungry, and have no wish to eat boiled barley again. Cullain will fix us another stew." To Torvald, he added, "It is why—one of the reasons— I have stopped our journey early this day. It will take Cullain some time to boil the salted pork enough to make it edible."

"One of the reasons?" Torvald asked. I, too, wondered what others there might be.

The wizened little Irish thrall, who usually went about his business in silence, interrupted. "As you wish," Cullain said to Hastein. "But you should know that already our store of vegetables is getting low. We brought but one barrel-full aboard the
Gull
, and there are many mouths to feed."