The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) (33 page)

We turned to leave. All around us, the prisoners were muttering to each other anxiously. It would not do to remain in their midst.

Skjold clutched at my sleeve. "I have helped you," he cried. "Do not let them take me. I am one of your people. I am from the village near your father's estate."

I shook him off. "You chose the path that has led you here," I told him. "You did not have to take it. You have committed many wrongs. Now you must pay for some of them."

As I walked away, I heard Bram say to him, "Skjold, is there any message you would like me to give to your family?" If Skjold answered, I did not hear it.

*   *   *

The Oelanders had requested of Hastein that he join in their dawn ceremony of thanks and sacrifice the following morning, and had invited the rest of our men to attend if they wished. Some, including Einar, Torvald, and Gudfred, had accompanied Hastein. I was not among those who did. The sacrifice by the folk of Oeland did not concern me, and the thought of arising yet again before dawn had no appeal. I was feeling possessed by a great weariness. The long bruises that crisscrossed my back, arms, and shoulders had grown darker and more painful over the course of the day following the battle, and my right arm and shoulder, with which I had wielded my sword during the clearing of the pirate ship—the details of which I still could not recall—felt so stiff and sore that they were painful to use.

I slept until well past daybreak. When I finally awoke I felt, if not refreshed, at least no longer exhausted.

The day of the battle, I had worn my oldest woolen tunic and trousers under my armor. It was good that I had done so. They had been far from new before, but now they were badly stained with blood that had splashed upon me during the fighting. I found a bucket aboard the
Gull
, filled it with sea water, and left them in it to soak.

My clothing was not all that was dirty and stained. My body felt filthy and smelled bad. Wrapping myself in my longest cloak against the chill morning air, and wearing only my boots underneath, I walked down the beach a ways, a clean tunic and trousers under one arm, carrying my sword in its scabbard with the other. There was no danger here—none that we knew of—but I had come to feel uncomfortable unless I had some weapon close at hand. The months of warfare and danger in Frankia had taught me that it was always the wiser course to be careful.

I did not stay in the water long, for the sea was cold. As I dried myself with my cloak and dressed, I realized that Rauna had not built a fire at her tent either yester-evening or this morning. In fact, I had not seen her at all this day. Did she have any food to cook for herself?

I stopped at her tent on the way back to the encampment and called out, "Rauna, are you in there? It is Halfdan." As soon as I said it, I realized I had never told her my name.

The flap over the tent's door shifted slightly on one side, not enough for me to see in, but I could tell that she was peeking out.

"My name is Halfdan," I told her. "I did not tell you that before."

"What do you want?"

"Do you have anything to eat? There is food at our camp, if you would like some." Cullain and Regin had prepared a large pot of boiled barley porridge for the morning meal. "It is simple, but it is hot."

She did not answer. "I am going to get food now," I told her. "Bring a bowl if you wish to have some."

When I reached the cook-fire, after stopping at the
Gull
to pick up my own bowl and spoon, I saw that Hastein and the others had returned. Hastein's tent had been pitched facing the fire, and he was seated out in front of it on one of his sea chests, eating.

Torvald had pulled his own chest beside him and was also eating, although with little enthusiasm. "There are only so many days in a row I can eat porridge," he said, "before it begins to stick in my throat. It is a good thing there will be meat at the feast tonight."

Einar, who was seated on the ground nearby with Gudfred, said, "I enjoy boiled barley for my morning meal."

Torvald held his spoon over his bowl and let its contents fall back in with a plop. He shook his head and sighed. "I would much prefer to drink barley as ale than eat it as mush."

I filled my bowl at the fire. As I turned to go and join the others, I saw what looked to be a stack of bloody horse's legs lying off to one side.

"The place of sacrifice was very strange," Einar told me, as I sat down. "It was a great stone fortress built on the edge of a cliff, very old and fallen into ruin. You will see it tonight. The feast is to be there."

"I asked Nori about it," Hastein volunteered. "He said there are many such ruins across Oeland—almost a score in all. They have all been abandoned for longer than anyone can remember. At one time, this island must have been home to many warriors. It must have been a powerful kingdom in those days. Einar told me, by the way," he added, looking at me, "of your questioning of Skjold. It was good that you did so. I did not realize Toke had so few men with him. We still have a goodly advantage of numbers—at least for now." He stared at me for a moment, then said, "You have a strange look on your face."

"There is a stack of legs by the fire. Horses' legs," I answered.

"I brought those," Torvald said. "The Oelanders gave them to me. Cullain asked for them."

"The Oelanders sacrificed two horses this morning," Einar told me. "I have never seen a horse sacrificed before. They tied their feet together and toppled them onto their sides, then cut their throats."

"And they were big, fine horses," Torvald added. "At least there will be much meat for the feast."

"But why the legs?" I asked.

Hastein answered. "Cullain is going to boil them to make a bone broth. He says it will take at least two days to make, but when it is done, drinking it will help our wounded regain their strength. He is concerned about Stig. He lost much blood and is very weak. If he does not get stronger soon, he will not heal."

Cullain walked over to the pile, picked up one of the legs, and carried it and a large iron cauldron to a nearby log that had washed up onto the beach. Using the log as a chopping block, he began to hack the leg into short lengths with an axe, tossing the pieces into the pot.

"That will dull the blade," Torvald said.

"Was there any sign of the prisoners?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," Gudfred answered, a grim smile on his face. "They were there. Or at least their heads were, stuck on poles at the place of sacrifice."

"Ah," Torvald said, and pointed. "Look. Here comes Halfdan's new woman."

"She is not my woman," I snapped, and turned to look. Rauna was standing at the edge of the encampment, as if fearful of entering it. She was holding a wooden bowl in her hands. Several of our men were staring at her curiously.

I stood and walked over to her. "Follow me," I told her. She said nothing, but followed, her head down so she would not have to meet the gazes of those watching.

At the fire, I took her bowl, filled it, and handed it back to her. She stared at it suspiciously. "What is this?" she asked.

"It is barley. Boiled barley porridge. Do your people not grow barley?"

She shook her head. After a few moments, she said, "I thank you," then turned and hurried back through the camp to her tent, where she went inside, hidden from sight.

"I have never seen a Finn woman before," Gudfred commented when I returned. "She is not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Torvald asked.

"I do not know. I have heard that the Finns live deep in the forests, and are a wild people, savages. But she is rather comely, and does not look at all like a wild savage."

"They do not look very different from us," Hastein said, "though they do not tend to be as tall. I lived for a time in Halland as a boy. I was fostered in the home of a chieftain there. He traded with the Finns each spring. They would bring furs to trade for goods they could not make for themselves. They are a simple, peaceful folk. And though they do mostly live deep in the forests, they are not savages."

"Her father was not so peaceful," Gudfred observed.

"No," Hastein agreed. "It
was
a strange thing to find a Finn fighting with Sigvald's men." To me he said, "You may not consider her your woman, but you should at least make it known that she is under your protection because of a promise you made to her father, before he died. If you do not, another may try his luck with her. If our men think her an unattached woman, with no family to protect her…." He shrugged. "As Gudfred says, she
is
somewhat comely, and our men have been long away from the company of women."

"But Halfdan made no such promise to the Finn," Gudfred protested, looking surprised. "I was there. He promised only to give her the bag he wore around his neck."

Hastein looked at me and raised his eyebrows. Now I shrugged. "It seemed the easiest way to persuade Osten to leave her be."

"I wonder what was in that bag," Einar said. "I suspect it was some kind of magic charm."

"If so, it did not protect the Finn," Gudfred pointed out.

"You
did
persuade Osten to leave her be," Hastein told me, an annoyed expression on his face. "But what now? What is your plan now that she is here with us on Oeland?"

"I do not have a plan," I admitted.

"You had best come up with one. And quickly," Hastein replied.

*   *   *

When the sun reached its noon zenith, we marched up onto the ridge to the death ship to bid farewell to our fallen comrades. Each man brought a drinking cup with him for the toasts we would make to the dead. I carried the fine drinking horn Hastein had given me in Frankia.

The cask of ale which had been brought ashore from the
Gull
had seen hard use the night before, but was still half full. It had been carried up the hill and placed a short distance from the death ship. A small fire had been built beside it, and several unlit torches lay ready beside the fire. As each man passed the cask, he dipped his cup inside the open top and filled it with ale.

While Hastein climbed the gangplank up onto the deck, the rest of us gathered in a half circle below, facing the side of the ship. A large group of Oelanders, Nori among them, stood watching nearby.

Hastein raised his hand, signaling for silence, and began to speak.

"My comrades. My brothers—for that is what we all are now. When we began this voyage, we were not as one. We were a company in name only. But now we have fought together, and have won a great victory over a force much larger than our own. Truly, now we are all brothers in arms.

"Every victory has a price. Twelve of our company paid for our victory with their lives. We are here to honor them, and to send them on their way. This night, while we feast here on Oeland, our comrades will feast with the gods in Valhalla."

Turning slightly so he could see the twelve bodies laid out across the deck behind him, but could still be heard by those standing below, Hastein raised the silver cup he held and shouted, "To Hrodgar!" When he did, I realized that he was wearing, around his upper arm, his golden ring—the oath ring of a godi.

Lowering the cup, he continued. "He was a brave man, who valued honor more than life itself. A just man, who would not turn a blind eye to niddingsvaark. A man who lived a long and good life, and chose a warrior's death. More than once, Hrodgar has fought for me, at my side. I will miss you, my friend." Again Hastein raised his cup high, and this time we all raised ours, too, and cried out in unison, "To Hrodgar!" then drank.

As I raised my drinking horn to my lips, I whispered a private prayer to the old chieftain. "Give my greetings to my brother Harald, and to my mother, and to my father Hrorik. Tell them that one day I will hope to join them and you in Odin's great hall."

One by one, Hastein called out the names of the dead. For each, he had kind words and praises, although in truth there was not a great deal that could be said about some who had died. Skuli, for instance—Bram's friend. He was but a young man from a small village. He had no history of grand deeds to recite. But he had been willing to join the hunt for Toke. The decision had cost him his life.

I had expected the fire to be lit as soon as all the dead had been praised and drunk to, but Hastein continued to speak.

"My comrades, you may believe that the blood-price has been paid in full for our brothers who died. We ourselves took the lives of most of the pirates who attacked us, for they were no match for our courage and our blades. And the folk of Oeland have put to death those who survived the battle. But the full blood-price has not yet been paid. Let me tell you now what I have but recently learned.

"Sigvald and his band did not attack us by chance. They were but pirates, and we were clearly a formidable company. Have you not wondered why they did not just let us pass by?"

Many nodded their heads, and some muttered, "Aye."

"Sigvald was told that we would be sailing this way. He was told we were but recently returned from the war in Frankia, and that our sea chests would be filled with silver. He attacked because he believed us to be so rich a prize that the losses he would surely suffer would be well worth the treasure to be won. We sailed into a trap that had been set to kill us. Had we been lesser men, it would have succeeded. This was the work of Toke, the man we hunt. He set a very clever trap. He is a very dangerous foe. The blood of our comrades is on
his
hands."

An angry growl spread through the men listening to Hastein speak.

"This, too, I have learned," Hastein continued. "Toke sails for Birka. There he hopes to sell Sigrid, the sister of our comrade Halfdan, to slave traders. She is reputed to be a great beauty, who will be worth riches in the Araby kingdoms. And then he will sail for Ireland.

"Toke must not reach Ireland. For now, he has but twenty-one men left in his war-band. We still outnumber him by more than two-to-one. If we can catch him now, he will be ours. But in Ireland, he has strong allies. Thorgils, the greatest chieftain among the Danes and Norse who are there, will support him, as will others.

Other books

Afterlife (Afterlife Saga) by Hudson, Stephanie
Death at the Chase by Michael Innes
Catboy by Eric Walters
Let Me Love You by Mary Wine
The Woman Who Waited by Andreï Makine
The Frenzy Way by Gregory Lamberson
The Perfect Gift by Kathleen Brooks


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024