Page 13

CHAPTER 13

What will we find when we reach the settlement?

Huts tumbled by the quaking earth or a landslide burying all?

J?rgen felt sick to think of it. Gods willing, most of the women, and the men, too, would already be upon the sands, making preparations for the wedding.

J?rgen prayed to Odin, over and again, as he and Astrid made their way back. ‘Twas the worst of luck that the wind was now against them, but he hauled on the oars for all he was worth.

The ship was near ready. With swift action, they could be sea-bound before the day’s light was lost.

Astrid was in shock, hugging herself at the other end of the boat. He wanted to comfort her but couldn’t relent from rowing. She said naught, but her lips moved; she was praying, too, no doubt.

As the wide stretch of the bay came into view, he discerned people on the beach, a cluster close by where the longship rested. The water was near its highest point, making but a short distance to slide the ship, and that could be done with the hull on its side. It would right itself as it hit the waves. Then, before long, the turn of the tide would be in their favor.

“Stow the oars,” Astrid said of a sudden. “I’ll use the rudder from here.”

J?rgen did as he was bid. They were approaching the eastern scattering of rocks, the peaks barely visible above the waves, and the power of the tide would carry them toward the beach. All of Astrid’s concentration would be required.

Touching sand, J?rgen jumped out, pushing the boat through the foam. He spotted Gunnar breaking away from where the others were gathered.

J?rgen scanned the shoreline. The dunes blocked his view of the curving arc of homes, but he could see there had been movement on the hillside; the main ascending track had disappeared beneath foliage.

The mountain on the far side was entirely hidden from this portion of the island. Squinting against the lowering sun, he tried to make out signs of the smoke they’d seen, but ‘twas impossible to tell. The direction of the wind must be blowing it away.

“Praise Odin, ‘tis good to see you.” Ashen-faced, Gunnar clapped him on the back. “‘Twas likely the best place, out upon the sea.”

“What happened? Is everyone safe?” Astrid lost no time in climbing from the boat.

“A trembling of the ground.” Gunnar leaned heavily upon his crutch. “Trees were toppling. Several came down on the huts. Praise Thor, ‘tis now ceased.”

J?rgen frowned. His gut told him that the lull would be short-lived. Whatever was happening, it was far from over.

“I must speak with Bothild.” Astrid touched J?rgen’s arm. “Tell her what we’ve seen… all of it.”

She was right. There could be no more secrets. The women had to know the danger they were in.

Meanwhile, there would be no stopping Eldberg.

He’ll fill it with those young and fit, but what of the older women? Can we carry them all?

J?rgen was unsure.

Even if it were possible, he wouldn’t wager on his jarl giving space to those he considered worthless.

He’ll more likely make room for livestock than the elderly.

There was much weeping, though the children seemed mostly unperturbed, running about excitedly, chasing goats that had escaped from their pen.

Sprinting up the sand, J?rgen came alongside the ship, where Rutger was securing the mast. The seaweed which had concealed their repairs had been cast aside.

“About time.” His jarl glowered at him. “Fetch the sail and whatever victuals you can lay hands on, then get your wench. We’re leaving on the tide’s turn.”

Several women had clearly decided to throw their lot in with them, heaping belongings not far off. However, others were arguing, tugging at the bundles, shouting their objection.

“Don’t go!” One of the elderly women was pleading. “This is our home.”

“Be sensible.” Vangreth stepped forward. “The shivering of the ground is a sign from the gods. ‘Tis time for us to leave, just as the men did.”

“Go where? With these strangers?” The woman let up a wail.

J?rgen glanced at Eldberg. From the set of his face, he knew the truth. There would be no space for anyone his jarl didn’t deem useful. As soon as the women realized that, the situation would turn ugly.

“Hedda, you’ll speak for us.” Another of the older women implored. “You warned us not to trust these men, but we need them. Make them stay.”

From all J?rgen knew, Hedda was a strong woman, opinionated and decisive, yet she stammered something unintelligible, seeming not to know how to respond.

“The matter is out of our hands,” Frida spoke, suddenly at Hedda’s side. “Vangreth is right that the gods have spoken. I’ve seen signs—portents of what awaits. The destruction we’ve witnessed is just the beginning.”

“Freyja, preserve us!” The elderly woman fell to her knees.

‘Twas Signy, dressed in her bridal finery, who dropped down to comfort her.

Frida threw a meaningful look at J?rgen. She’d seen what was in his mind, and she’d hinted at her own premonitions. What had she said—about fire and smoke, a catastrophe of terrible proportions?

His blood ran chill. ‘Twas all coming true.

Another of the older women scoffed. “I’m sorry to say this, Signy, but I believe the earth’s trembling was a warning for you from Freyja herself. Your marriage mustn’t go ahead. Your mother knew it, and that man of yours murdered her to get his way.” She scowled at Viggo, who was clenching his fists.

Signy immediately jumped up. “Agneta! How dare you say such things! I was there with Viggo and my mother. Her fall from the cliffs was naught but an accident. As to Viggo becoming my husband, that’s for me to decide.”

A hubbub of heated voices chimed in, the women upon the beach having drifted closer. Even the children had stopped their play, and the youngest were clinging to their mother’s skirts. A babe in arms added its lament to the commotion.

“Peace!” A single voice rose amid the throng, and the crowd parted to let her through.

“Bothild, thanks be!” Signy ran to her. “I know not what’s happening, but it’s no judgment upon Viggo or myself. Like Frida, I’ve been noticing things… such as with the bees. The island has been trying to warn us.”

“We’ve seen things too.” Rutger’s woman, Grethe, added. “In one of the upper pools. A great crack in the earth. I told Bothild, something’s strange. Now, we have trees walking down the hillside.”

Bothild nodded. “I fear we must abandon this place, as our men did before us. I’ve spoken with this jarl, and he’s vowed to place every woman who accompanies him under his protection to be well-provided for—a promise he’ll keep, being a man of honor.”

J?rgen noted the way she fixed Eldberg with her eyes, as if challenging him to deny it. The old woman was canny.

The clamor began again, this time with exclamations more eager than wary.

Quietly, Astrid rejoined J?rgen, and they exchanged looks.

He took her meaning. Bothild knew the worst but was choosing not to mention what was yet unseen upon this side of the island. ‘Twas wise, no doubt, for panic would ensue if the women knew the full extent of their trouble.

“What’s this?” Hedda seemed to start awake. “You’ve been plotting with my grandmother? Did she know then, before me, that you planned your escape this day?”

“Calm yourself, my love,” Eldberg spoke beneath his breath. “‘Twas the morrow I intended to sail and would have told you this very evening.”

J?rgen had rarely seen his jarl so ill at ease.

“Hardly time for me to prepare!” Hedda’s voice rose.

“If I’m to make room for these sag-breasted old sows, your paltry possessions must stay,” Eldberg hissed from the side of his mouth.

J?rgen was almost enjoying seeing his jarl so indisposed. His amusement, however, was interrupted by Astrid’s elbow between his ribs. An inclination of her head told him to follow as she sidled away.

“I must get the sail.” He spoke low. “You see how it is, Astrid. Once it’s threaded to the mast, Eldberg will depart the beach.”

J?rgen hoped she’d make no objection. After what they’d seen, the details were irrelevant; he just needed her to come with him.

Astrid waved her hand dismissively, hurrying toward the dunes. “Bothild has told me to fetch Elin. Naught but a slight ague, she told me, though I fear something greater is amiss. Bothild has been letting no one see her these ten days and more.”

“Aye, of course.” He’d no objection to that, as long as they were quick.

As soon as they were out of sight of those upon the sands, Astrid picked up her pace, running past her own hut to one further down.

“Elin,” she called through the door only once, waiting barely a heartbeat before pushing it open. “Are you here?”

The place was in disarray as J?rgen entered, with stools overturned and various items tumbled from the table.

“What’s happening?” A feeble voice came from the darkest corner of the room. “Everything was shaking, and I heard shouting. I called out, but no one came.” The woman in the bed blinked, squinting across at them. “Is that you, Astrid?”

J?rgen hardly recognized she who’d examined him in the early days of landing upon the island. The Elin he’d met had been self-assured and precise in her movements. Now, she struggled to sit up.

Whatever tincture Bothild might be giving her, ’twas surely potent, for Elin’s eyes bore an unfocused look.

“Have you come to fetch me to the wedding? I wanted to go but Bothild said it was too soon—that I had to stay and rest.”

“Come, we’ll get you properly dressed and take you down to the beach.” Astrid’s voice betrayed only the slightest tremble. “You mustn’t miss out.”

“I’d like that.” Elin allowed the furs to be thrown back and her legs guided over the side of the bed.

Astrid hunted about for a moment, locating a gown of decent thickness, which she passed over Elin’s head. As Elin moved her arm, J?rgen noticed how she winced.

Astrid’s fingers were unsteady, but she pinned the gunna in place and was looking about for a shawl. “Her boots, J?rgen. Help me, won’t you?”

Those were close to the bed, so he slipped them onto Elin’s feet and began cross-lacing the leather thongs.

A disquiet was growing within him. What had Eldberg said of Rangvald? That he’d attacked him in some way and been locked up? Where was he exactly? Not here, at any rate, nor upon the beach.

Astrid had not remarked upon it, and Elin seemed in no state to notice, though she must be aware…

“Ask her about Rangvald,” J?rgen tugged on Astrid’s hem.

“Hush,” Astrid hissed. “Bothild said…”

“What did Bothild say?” Elin stifled a coming yawn. “Is Rangvald allowed to see the wedding, too?”

Her face lit up as the thought came to her, and it decided J?rgen’s mind.

“Aye. Know you where he is? Tell us, and I’ll bring him.”

Elin’s face fell. “I’ve not seen him this long while.”

J?rgen fought back his irritation. ‘Twas hardly the time to be searching blindly, but what could he do?

“We can’t.” Astrid glared. “‘Tis too dangerous to delay?—”

Elin grabbed Astrid’s arm, wincing again. “They won’t hurt him, will they? Promise you won’t let them!”

“All’s well.” Astrid shot J?rgen a cautionary look. “We just need you on your feet.”

J?rgen’s conscience was in knots. Regardless of his dislike for Rangvald, he couldn’t leave him—if only for the sake of Elin, who clearly felt something for the churl.

“If ‘twas me, Astrid, you’d want someone to look for me, wouldn’t you?” J?rgen persisted.

“Aye, I suppose.” Astrid’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll start back, collecting the sail as I go. If you don’t find him quickly, you must come yourself. Swear to me, J?rgen…”

Though she was annoyed, he could see the deeper emotion in her expression.

She did care.

Grabbing her, he stole a kiss.

By Odin and Thor and all the gods, he hoped it wouldn’t be his last.