Page 15

CHAPTER 15

The beach shivered, as if some great worm moved beneath, swimming through the sands, its body rippling the grains. The air, too, seemed to vibrate, causing not only the ground to tremble but all living things to quake.

The torment of the earth was surely worse than the last tremors had been. The very crags were crumbling, cascading giant slabs of rock, and the forest was slithering downward, as if the trees stood upon some great cloth being yanked from under them.

Astrid squeezed shut her eyes against the strange shaking of her vision.

Sacred Freyja, spare us, I beg you.

“‘Tis the last of days!” someone screeched.

“The gods are doing battle.”

“We all shall die!”

The rumble was within Astrid’s bones and teeth, commanding her to fall to her knees.

My J?rgen! Is this the end?

You should be here with me.

Was he already dead?

Nay! I cannot bear it. If we are to die, let it be together—not like this.

Astrid wrapped her arms over her head, tucking herself small.

‘Twas surely true. The world was being destroyed.

“Ragnarok!” Another took up the lament. “First with fire and then with flood!”

Astrid screamed as water washed up, catching her unawares, making her fall forward, her hands burying in wet sand. It took her a moment to realize it was receding again.

She knelt up as the next wave came in. Of course, ‘twas only the tide, sending water rushing upon the beach.

The yells and shrieks about her were subsiding, subdued into keening moans and whimpers. The tremble of the earth was lessening, and with it, their sense was returning.

“Rutger, Viggo, Gunnar, and you, Vangreth, help me slide the boat!” Eldberg was already at the stern. “On my count, we heave together.”

Astrid sat upon her heels, watching as the longship met the water. Awkward as it was, the hull upon its side, with the top of the new-fitted mast scraping the sand, the boat had not far to move before it joined the waves.

Rutger left off as soon as they were in the shallows, rolling a narrow cross beam from where it lay on the sand, maneuvering it to pass through a hole carved in the upper portion of the mast.

“‘Tis done!” he shouted to his jarl. “I’ll secure the sail while you load them aboard.”

“Then push her out.” Eldberg put his shoulder to the stern once more. “She’ll be skyward as soon as her bottom clears, then we’ll fit the oars and away.”

‘Tis happening! Astrid could hardly believe it. They’re leaving!

Several of the women were already pressing forward, holding bundles before them, eager to board.

J?rgen!

Panicked, Astrid scanned the beach.

He must be here!

Dread gripped her.

If he were upon the sands, he’d have come to me already… or he’d have gone to aid his jarl.

She cast her gaze toward the settlement, desperate for some glimpse of him. The huts were only partially visible above the dunes, but she could see the longhouse or, rather, what remained of it.

The hillside directly behind the larger building was strewn with ravaged trees. Some of the crag had surely tumbled down the slope, taking all in its path. Where the longhouse had once stood, there was only wreckage, the beams jutting jagged, like battle-broken bones.

If he was inside when the building collapsed…

Burying her head in her hands, she wept.

What consequence was anything if J?rgen was gone? She would stay here and let the destruction take her, too.

“Rangvald!”

An excited shout startled Astrid from her melancholy. Elin was running toward a limping man, half-dragged by the one beside him. Though his head was down, there was no doubt in her mind. ‘Twas J?rgen!

Once he’d lowered Rangvald upon the sand, she flung herself into J?rgen’s embrace.

“My love, my sweet one.” J?rgen rained kisses upon her cheeks, her eyes, her nose, and her chin until his mouth met hers.

Astrid’s heart leapt with wonder, gladness, and a bliss that carried away all else. The intensity of J?rgen’s kiss told her he was of the same mind. Nothing would part them. She was wholly his, and he belonged to her.

Only a violent shout and scuffling nearby brought her back to her surroundings. To her surprise, Viggo was rounding upon Rangvald. He’d dragged him to his feet and landed a punch before Eldberg forced his way in.

The jarl immediately took Rangvald by the throat. “You dare show your face!”

“Stop this.” Elin beat upon Eldberg’s back, but Signy dragged her away.

J?rgen stepped between the two men. “He’s no use to you dead. Leave now; settle grievances later.”

Eldberg cast J?rgen a scathing look. “Says the one who fetched him! I ought to choke the pair of you!”

“And who then would row your longship?” J?rgen set his jaw. “Take us both or neither!”

Eldberg’s eyes were filled with rage, but he shoved Rangvald away. The man crumpled to the ground and Elin went at once to tend to him.

“For Odin’s sake! We’re all your men!” Gunnar had joined them. “The gods spared us to wash upon this shore, and we should leave as one. The light is fading. We must depart while we can.”

“Aye! Leave!” One of the elderly women looked upon them with venom. “Much good may it do you! The world is crumbling, and you squabble like children.”

Another sent up her wail. “‘Tis the end of days! What use setting upon the sea? We all are doomed!”

More of the women clustered around, some urging Eldberg to waste no more time, others hurling derision.

Astrid clung to J?rgen once more. Searching his eyes, she saw uncertainty there.

“Not the end! Not if we leave!” Frida implored the angry women. “There’s a chance for us on the ship.”

“To drown at sea? You think ‘tis better than to die here?”

“Fall to your knees and pray! ‘Twill serve us better!”

“The wench is muddle-minded!”

Gunnar pulled Frida close as insults rained, shouting his defense of her. “She speaks to save you! Are you so blind?”

“Cease!” Bothild’s voice cut through the tumult.

Frida looked boldly into each face. “The island may be dying, but there is a path for us. I’ve seen the place these men hail from, for Freyja has shown me in my dreams—a narrow waterway between cliffs and a harbor safe from storms, lush fields protected by mountains on all sides. I see us there, settled and content. I see marriages and children.”

Gentler murmurs rippled through the throng, but the peace was once again broken by the arrival of Hedda.

“Why stand you about like ninnies?” She threw her scornful gaze upon them all. “Vangreth and I have done all the work, fitting those blasted oars to the cups. The ship is afloat, and the tide shall soon turn. Stay or come, but make haste!”

“We go!” Eldberg clapped Viggo on the back. “All who are with me, climb aboard. As to the rest, may the gods make death merciful.”

“Wait!” Signy ran forward, addressing the jarl. “Viggo serves you gladly, but the farmstead back in Skálavík—return it without claim or condition. It is wholly his.”

Eldberg’s lip curled, as if he would refuse, but Hedda answered before he’d the chance.

“Of course, he agrees!” A punch upon Eldberg’s arm had him grumbling reluctant assent.

“And I make a request for Rangvald to be pardoned… of whatever misdoing you charge him!” All heads turned at Astrid’s unexpected interruption.

“That cur!” Eldberg growled. “Never!”

“You shall, or I refuse to guide you from the bay!” she answered without hesitation. “Take me against my will if you dare!”

“Is this your doing?” Eldberg snarled at J?rgen.

“Gods above, do as she asks, and be done with it!” Hedda’s elbow once more came to serve. “Or I shall sail off without you myself!”

Eldberg’s eyes bulged with temper as he looked from one face to the next, then he smacked his thigh and gave a bark of laughter.

“A man must pick his battles, and I shan’t argue with you, my headstrong Hedda. Mulish and willful you are, but I’ll concede for your sake.”

There was a flurry of activity, of splashing through the shallows and bundles tossed aboard. Rangvald stayed wisely distant from his jarl but sent a nod of thanks Astrid’s way and another to J?rgen.

Astrid cast a rueful glance at the hillside. With the sun setting over the western horizon, the northern side of the island was near in darkness, and she detected the faint glow of the fire they’d witnessed that afternoon. No one else seemed to have noticed yet, their attention all being upon the longship.

How fast were the flames spreading? She supposed it mattered not. Even those who’d been most adamant against joining the men seemed to have accepted the wisdom of leaving the island, thanks to Bothild.

J?rgen beckoned Astrid, interlinking his hands so she might step upon them, while Gunnar was at the rail, ready to heave her over.

Rutger was shinning the mast, attaching a close-furled sail.

“No chickens!” Eldberg barked as Hevinda and Agneta were hoisted in with plump hens under each arm.

No one was taking notice. Astrid was certain that a good few of the bundles were making clucking sounds.

“And absolutely no goats.” Eldberg gnashed his teeth as Viggo raised three bleating nanny goats over the side, one after another.

“I’m not leaving without Brunhilda!” Grethe was already seated next to a ginger-tufted creature whose tongue whipped out rather rudely.

“Think of the milk, my jarl. All these goats are heavy of udder.” Rutger clearly knew which side his bread was buttered on.

Only when Eldberg’s back was turned was a chain of kid goats passed up and promptly hidden under skirts.

Astrid stood at the prow of the boat, the better to see their way. Down below, Signy sat upon one of the rowing benches, her fine gown drenched wet and dirty, her coronet of flowers in disarray.

Her gaze was directed at the rail, no doubt awaiting Viggo.

Their day of joy had turned to horror, but Astrid had faith that all would be well.

The gods had restored Viggo’s sight—at least in part—and brought J?rgen safely back. They’d united Rangvald with Elin and given Gunnar to Frida. Even Grethe and Hedda were in love; ‘twas plain. The ship was fit to take to the sea in just the nick of time. That was no coincidence.

Their patron goddess, Freyja, had not brought the men to the island to raise a new generation there, but she had brought them with a purpose—to save all the women, taking them to a new home.

At last, Viggo and J?rgen climbed the rail.

They were all aboard, except for…

“Hedda! For the love of all Valhalla’s Valkyries, what are you doing?” Jarl Eldberg hollered.

Forty heads and more craned to look over the side.

Hedda stood ankle-deep in the waves. “I’m frightened! You know I cannot swim.”

“I’m not asking you to swim.” Eldberg leapt over, landing with a splash. “‘Tis a longship. We row, then we sail. By and by, we reach our destination.”

“I know that you lackwit!” Hedda stomped her foot. “Still, I’m afeared!”

“‘Tis because of our sister, Branka,” Frida called out. “‘Twas her drowning that brought about Hedda’s wedding to that loathsome Einar.”

Eldberg looked contrite. “For that, I’m sorry. For your poor sister, and for you marrying a man who clearly deserved no woman at his side, least of all you. But you must get on this ship, Hedda, afore the dark makes our way too perilous. I’ve wrecked upon this shore once, and I’d rather not again!”

The mention of the shipwreck did naught to calm Hedda’s worry, as was evident by her remaining where she was.

“You’ve just ordered every blessed woman of the island onto my ship—along with half the livestock. Are you telling me you won’t get on yourself?” Eldberg was obviously losing his temper, for his neck was red as a boiled crab. “For once, can you not do as I say? Mayhap you might trust me to know what’s best!”

Oh, dear, thought Astrid. She won’t like that.

“If you’re so clever, why haven’t you asked to marry me?” Hedda shot him eye-daggers.

“The island is falling about our heads, and you won’t leave until you have me planning a wedding?”

Astrid could almost hear Eldberg’s teeth grinding.

Hedda looked as if she might cry.

“Think of the child!” ‘Twas Elin who called out this time. “Hedda, you must board! For the babe’s sake!”

“A child?” Eldberg looked dumbfounded, then ecstatic, then dumbfounded again, all in the flash of a moment.

“‘Tis but the size of a cherry stone.” Hedda tossed her head. “A fig, perhaps, if he takes after his lolloping oaf of a father.”

“Ha!” Eldberg smiled broadly. “I’ll wager you’re carrying twins, and ‘twill be Loki’s humor if they’re both girls, the spit of you, sent to torment me.”

“You see! Even now, you jest rather than professing your love!” Hedda was certainly digging in her feet.

“Of course, I love you, Dearling.” Eldberg’s gaze swiveled to the ship momentarily, and the red in his neck flushed through his whole face. With his wild mane of coppered hair, ‘twas something to behold.

Astrid almost felt sorry for him, having to declare himself while they all watched.

“Enough to make me your wife as soon as we reach Skálavík?” Hedda pouted.

“Aye! Try to stop me!” Eldberg rolled his eyes.

“And you won’t grow tired of my stubborn ways and sharp tongue, of the way I won’t do as I’m told, of me answering you back?” Hedda’s lip was trembling.

“‘Tis those things, amongst others, that I most love about you, you daft wench! You’re the most rousing woman I’ve ever met and the most contrary, which is exactly the way I like it.” Eldberg practically bellowed the words.

“Can you never pay me a compliment without berating me in the same breath!” Hedda folded her arms. “Admit it, you bone-headed oaf, you’re not as gruff as you like to make out, and ‘tis my love that has softened you up!”

“Aye!” Eldberg gave a heartfelt sigh. “For the sake of peace, I’ll concede. I’m not the same man as landed upon this shore, and you’re not the same woman, come to that.”

“Ha, you’ll next be telling me ‘tis the result of your bedsporting mastery!” Hedda huffed.

Eldberg grinned broadly. “Aye. Am certain ‘tis true, and I look forward to continuing your education between the furs, but I’ll be doing that as your husband. As for my prowess in making you the happiest of wives, the skalds shall compose a saga telling of my devotion and shall sing it upon every feast day. I intend to grow old, telling you how much I adore you. Though that may be sooner than I hoped! I’ll be silver on chin and crown by the time we make it across the sea.”

Finally, Hedda stepped deeper into the water until she reached Eldberg. Thereupon, she thumped his chest. “Why didn’t you say all this before?”

“Because I’m a lustsome, prideful addlepate, as you like to remind me.” Eldberg then picked Hedda up, throwing her over his shoulder.

Upon the ship, there was a collective sigh of relief.

Once safely past the rocks, Astrid glanced back. Full night cloaked the far side of the island, and a glow half-circled the mountain’s summit.

‘Twas eerily quiet upon the ship without the oar’s motion. Even the men were subdued.

“Full away,” cried their jarl, a signal to Rutger, who promptly climbed the mast to let down the sail.

The breeze teased the cloth as it was tied into place, then filled it full as the rudder turned, letting them harness the wind.

Astrid lingered at her vantage point, high up on the prow, not yet ready to join the others in the belly of the boat.

From his rowing bench, J?rgen looked to her and smiled, and a familiar, comforting warmth filled her. They’d encountered darkness and danger but had come through it all. If there were trials ahead, she had conviction they’d weather them.

His jarl sat not far below, holding Hedda in the protection of his arms. She leaned into him as they spoke, and the wind carried their words to Astrid.

“You forgive me for being late in confiding our plans?” Eldberg’s lips brushed against Hedda’s hair. “I was afraid to tell you… in case you wouldn’t want to leave.”

“And what would you have done if I’d refused?” Hedda gazed up at him.

“Abducted you, of course.”

He received one of Hedda’s playful punches. “‘Tis not the way. Husband and wife need to be honest with one another.”

“I’m learning.”

The pair fell silent again.

Astrid looked across the water. The moon was clear-visible, rising through pale, shredded clouds.

When she glanced down again, she caught the glisten of tears on Hedda’s cheek.

“I’m sorry… for your island,” Eldberg said quietly.

“That isn’t why…” Hedda sniffled. “I’m happy, despite all.”

Eldberg whispered. “I was told, an age past it seems, that I would find treasure on this journey. You are my treasure, Hedda—beyond compare with gold or jewels.”

Astrid looked away then, for the two kissed in earnest.

Carefully, she made her way to where J?rgen sat. He said naught, but, holding her gaze, he let the expression in his eyes speak for him. There was so much she wanted to say, but they had time. Years and years ahead, if Fate was kind.

Some instinct made her turn, even before Frida’s shout, clasping the rail as she pointed.

The fiery halo had grown, as if heat spewed from the depths of the mountain and rose far into the sky.

A pyre on which our island burns.

J?rgen pulled her to him. “Don’t look.”

In any case, the view was suddenly veiled, for they’d entered a mist, its tendrils meandering betwixt the benches. The wind had dropped, yet they moved onward, the waves no longer heard as they glided through the enveloping fog.

When they emerged again into the clear night, the island was no longer visible.

All behind them was obscured.

Only the way forward was clear, and the ship sailed on.