Manannan Trilogy

by Michele McGrath

  “Shall I throw him overboard?” Someone asked. Emer cringed, knowing there was no way she would be able to swim to shore.

  “Let’s have a look at him.” Dag strode up to her and plucked the hat from her head, allowing her braids to tumble down. “Not a lad; a lass.” He turned her face to the light and the grip on her chin was bruising. “Emer Olafsdottir! What are you doing here? Ragnar ordered you not to come.”

  “I brought her, Dag.” Finnr stepped between them and gazed up into his uncle’s eyes. “I thought it right that she should come.” Dag did not answer. He drew back his hand and belted Finnr so hard he fell sprawling to the deck. “You young idiot. If she dies, it will be your responsibility and your father can take the honour payment out of your hide. More fool me for asking Kari to let me take you with us. I thought you had more sense. It’s not your place to think, only to obey.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Fadirbrodir.” Finnr scrambled to his feet, his cheek already turning blue and his lip bleeding. “I’m grateful to you for persuading Fadir and Modir to let me come. Emer wants to find Olaf and I wanted to help her. She’s tough or I wouldn’t have brought her. She won’t be any trouble. She might remember other bits about what she saw that can help us find Nele. She’s more use to us here than sitting at home spinning.”

  “So we need her, do we?” In spite of himself Dag grinned and some of the others laughed.

  “The whelp’s like his father, Dag,” Tostig remarked. “Argues well.”

  “I’ll give him argue.” Dag swung his arm again and Finnr cringed but the blow never fell. Dag stopped short and said,

  “Remind me to search the ship before we put to sea in future. Finnr, understand me now. Do anything like this again and I’ll have the skin off your back and so will your father. No matter how well you talk, when you’re given an order, you obey it. No argument — or this is the last time I take you on any ship of mine. As for you…” He turned to Emer. “Stay out of the way. You can share Finnr’s rations, since we brought none for you. You’ll both be hungry but neither of you will starve. When we find your father, I’ll give him the pleasure of thrashing you himself.”

  Finnr and Emer slunk away, getting as far as possible from the angry man. When she dared, Emer whispered to Finnr,

  “Your poor cheek. Let me wash it for you.”

  Finnr shook his head. “It’s nothing. Keep still and let his anger cool or he may think better of his decision and beat us both.”

  They both stayed as much out of the way as they could, like little mice hiding in the corn loft. They did not go hungry, since Finnr had foreseen the need and brought extra food for Emer. A few of the men spoke with them, but Dag and Tostig both ignored them. It was not until they made landfall, several weary days later that things changed.

  “Stafi-oy!” Lokki the lookout cried.

  Dark cliffs rose out of the sea. Everybody stood and looked in the direction Lokki was pointing. Even from so far away, the island was a peculiar shape — like a loaf of bread with a flattened top. The wind was fair at first but then it died away and the men had to get out the oars and row. Gradually, as they came nearer and rowed parallel to the shore, a huge black opening loomed out of the base of one of the hills. Emer gasped as she saw it.

  “Do you recognise it?” Dag had come up behind her unheard and these were the first words he had spoken to her since her discovery.

  “Yes. It is the place of my dreams.”

  Dag raised his hand and signalled the men to row further inshore. The had not gone far, when Lokki called,

  “Shoals straight ahead!”

  “Turn north. There is a place we can get ashore further up the coast.”

  It was not an easy landing. An inlet led through the rocks but it was far too narrow for the dragon ship. They launched a small skiff which only held three people. Dag and Tostig were two. Hrani stepped forward to be the third when Dag stopped him.

  “Let the girl come. When Tostig brings the boat back, send Finnr. We’ll see if he can be more use on land than he is at sea.” That raised a laugh and even Finnr smiled.

  The trip was uncomfortable and several times it seemed as if the small skiff would be dashed against the rocks. Tostig managed to swerve away from danger at the last moment. Emer’s clothes were dripping long before she waded ashore. The ground was full of pebbles, some of them huge boulders. It was not easy to walk. Dag and Emer scrambled forwards towards a strip of land which looked somehow familiar to Emer. The boat had just landed for the second time when Dag shouted,

  “Come here, all of you.” He waved something above his head.

  When she got nearer, Emer could see that it was a piece of wood, like the others which were scattered around the rocks. It meant nothing to her, but Tostig gave an oath as he took it from Dag and stared at it. He turned it over and pointed to some marks on the surface.

  “What are those?”

  “The runes Ansuz and Laguz. All that is missing is Uruz and we have the word Alu.”

  “Fadir carved ‘Alu’ onto his rudder…” Emer shuddered. “He was here then.”

  “Many of our people carve that charm onto their boats for luck and protection. Certainly a boat has floundered here but it need not be his. Let’s search further.” Dag let the piece of wood drop and strode off. Emer, though, picked it up and tied it to her tunic.

  The group quartered the shore but found nothing more and Dag ordered them back to the ship. Then he changed his mind. They had almost reached the dragon ship when he shouted,

  “We’re going on. I want to see this singing cave they talk about. Meet us off the headland and we’ll come out to you.”

  It was a stiff pull although there was no wind and the waves were slight. Only the current impeded them but they rode it easily. It was not long before they saw the cave.

  “There it is,” Tostig pointed.

  Very slowly they moved forward. Dag picked up a spare oar and gave it to Emer.

  “Make yourself useful. Find out where the bottom is.”

  Obediently she dipped the shaft in the water but could not touch the seabed. It was some time before she did and then a rock nearly drove the oar out of her hand.

  “Hard right!” she screamed and the boat pivoted.

  “Give me that!” Tostig grabbed the oar and crouched in the bows. Emer squirmed backwards into the seat he had left.

  “Row,” Dag said. “Pull with me.”

  They were almost there and they had no need of speed for which Emer was grateful. Her father had taught her to row, but this boat was much heavier than the one she was used to. She was very tired by the time they slipped into the cave’s mouth.

  No waves made music that day, but the place was eerie enough without them. Great pillars seemed to rise out of the water, holding up a vaulted roof. The rocks were black, except where they were splashed with yellow lichen. The cave went back a long way but the boat had too deep a keel to follow it to the end. They rowed in as far as they could and then Dag turned to Emer,

  “Is this the place you dreamed of?” he asked.

  “It is. It can be no other, but it looked very different in my dream.”

  “How so?”

  “The wind was whistling and the waves lashed so high you could only see the tops of these poles.” Emer looked at the roof above her, thinking it seemed like bundles of sticks piled in a barn.

  “It’s where you saw your father and Nele?” Dag pressed her.

  “Yes. They were clinging to that rock over there.” Emer pointed to a long thin rock at the entrance of the cave, suddenly sure.

  “Is anyone here?” Dag shouted. Echoes bounced back to him off the walls and a few startled seabirds took to the air, but no one answered.

  “If they did come here, there may be some sign of them. Do you want me to look?” Tostig asked.

  “Do it.” Dag manoeuvred the boat closer to a flat rock and Tostig climbed out. Gingerly he made his way from rock to rock, leaping gaps and landing safely.
Emer admired his sure-footedness. He reached the back of the cave, searching around in the dim light. Then he suddenly bent down and picked something up. He hurried back to the boat.

  “What have you got?” Dag asked him.

  Tostig tossed him a sodden piece of cloth. “It was snagged on one of the rocks and tore. Do you recognise it?”

  Dag nodded. “It’s Nele’s. Part of the tunic his mother made for him. He was wearing it when he went off with Olaf. So they were here.”

  “Yes but they’ve gone.”

  “Now we know they definitely came here, we’d better go back and search the whole island properly.” Dag turned to Emer. “You’ve done well, girl. Remind me to trust you more often in future.”

  They made their way carefully out of the cave. As they approached the entrance, Tostig suddenly swore.

  “Would you look at that!” White fingers of mist crept over the sea, reaching out for them as they cleared the cave.

  “Emer, watch the patterns of the waves! Tostig, take her place and row with me. Where are you?” He let out a shout and an answer came, shrill and far away. The two men began to pull hard towards the sound.

  Emer stared at the wavelets.

  “Why am I doing this, Dag?” she asked.

  “To make sure that we don’t row in circles. Tell us if the boat moves at a different direction to the one we’re in now. Anything can happen in the mist, the gods curse it.”

  He yelled again and the answer came. It seemed nearer.

  “Dag, we’re going wrong!” Emer cried as the bow veered. Dag was the stronger rower and his thrust had pushed them to the right. Emer peered into the whiteness, her eyes stinging. The mist was even thicker now and the outlines of the rowers were blurred. She could not see the stern of the boat or more than a man’s length in front of her.

  Immediately both rowers stopped.

  “Which way?”

  “To the left.”

  Dag dug his oar in and the boat’s head pivoted.

  “Like that?”

  “A bit more…that’s right.”

  The boat moved again. A splash of oars sounded through the white stillness.

  “They’re rowing towards us!” Tostig cried.

  “Stay where you are! There’re rocks! Shout! We’ll find you!”

  “Over here!”

  “Keep yelling.”

  A pale grey shape started to loom out of the mist, gaining definition, the longship.

  “Thank Odin for that!”

  Emer whispered a prayer of her own. She suddenly realised how frightened she had been, lost in the mist near this strange and menacing island.

  4

  “What do we do now?” Tostig asked.

  “Now we search every cranny of this island,” Dag replied.

  The hunt proved long and exhausting. They spread out and quartered the ground. Emer searched too, but she did not make the most disturbing discovery of all. The body of one of the men who had sailed with her father lay floating in a rock-pool. Jarpi’s face had been marked by birds and the rocks but it was still recognisable.

  “We can’t take him home with us, even in this weather. He will start to stink before we get there,” Dag said. “Hrani, you’re his brother. You decide.”

  “There’s not enough wood to make a fire. Let’s build a cairn for him,” Hrani decided. The body was straightened, laid in a hollow and stones piled on top of it. When everything had been finished, Hrani drew his sword, held it up and cried,

  “Feast well with our ancestors, Brodir, and wait for me there.”

  They left the island next day. Dag did not set a course straight for home but headed east towards the other islands, which were visible despite the light mist that veiled them. They visited several with no luck and it was not until they reached the small island called Colonsey that they had any news at all. A large trading ship lay in the harbour by the settlement called Sgalasaig.

  “Arm yourselves,” Dag said when he saw it.

  “That’s a trader not a ship of war.” Lokki peered forward at the vessel.

  “A trader perhaps, but traders go armed and I’ve never seen one like that.”

  “Nor I. It’s big. Where do you think they’re from?”

  “We’ll soon find out.”

  The dragon ship was lighter and drew less than the trader, so they rowed her into the shallows. They tied the ship to one of the sturdy posts that had been driven into the sea bed for such a purpose. Most of the men waded ashore, leaving Hrani and Gloa behind on guard. To their great disgust, Finnr and Emer were left as well and had to wait for the outcome of Dag’s negotiations. Eventually Lokki came to summon them.

  “It’s safe and this merchant has news of your father,” he told Emer. Her heart leaped when she heard his words. “He will tell you more.”

  “Nele?” Finnr asked in an anxious voice, but Lokki would only say,

  “Come and listen.”

  Lokki and the two youngsters splashed ashore and went up to the village. It was a poor place, a few huts and fields still partly covered with frost. Lokki led them to a longhouse that stood near the edge of the settlement. Inside the house, the smoke made their eyes sting and for a moment they could not see. Then Finnr gasped as a body thumped into his and a pair of thin little arms hugged him round the middle.

  “Nele, you’re alive!” Finnr cried, hugging him back.

  “My father?” Emer asked when the two brothers had finally broken apart.

  “Not here,” Dag answered, coming forward and dashing her hopes. “This is Atli Einursson. His ship is the one lying out in the bay. He knows what happened to your father. This is Emer Olafsdottir,” he said to the tall burly man standing beside him.

  “The lass whose dream brought you all the way to Stafi-oy?” Dag nodded. “That’s a valuable talent that you have, girl. Let’s sit down and I’ll tell you about your father.”

  They settled themselves beside one of the fires and, at Dag’s signal, a woman thrust a beaker into Emer’s hand.

  “Drink, you will need it,” she said, making Emer’s heart beat faster.

  She stared at the woman with frightened eyes and gingerly sipped the hot liquid, some sort of bitter brew that had been sweetened with honey. Its heat coursed through her.

  “Your father and the boy Nele were picked up on Stafi-oy by some fishermen. They were barely alive from the cold but Conn, whose owns the boat which found them, is skilled in such things. He has to be, since he and his kin go fishing in all weathers. He managed to revive both of them and brought them to Ulv-oy. I was there repairing storm damage and so was another trader from Skuy whose name is Kufri. He’s been blown off course and barely made it into shelter. He needed another hand because one of his crew had died. So he purchased your father from Conn several days ago and returned to Skuy.”

  “The misty isle, so your people call it,” Dag said to her.

  “Is it far? Emer gasped. “We must go after him!”

  “A few days sail if the wind is fair and no, we cannot follow him yet,” Dag said. “We’re almost at the end of the provisions we brought with us and we have no trade goods to barter for more. We have to return home before they run out. Then, if my father allows, we will re-provision and journey north again to find him.”

  “By then, anything might have happened,” Emer pleaded. “My father was not born to be a slave…”

  “Few men are,” Dag interrupted. “Olaf is a strong man who is used to adversity. He will survive until we can come and pick him up again. In any event, I have no choice. Kufri paid a long price for him that I cannot match. Pointless to go after him until I can afford to buy him back.”

  Dag nodded to the trader and rose to his feet. Emer began to follow him but the trader signalled to her to stay.

  “Tell me about your dreams. It’s going dark and this is the time to listen to wondrous tales.”

  Emer felt dazed and upset, but the man’s voice sounded kind and she sank down onto the bench again. S
he also thought that, if she gave way to her grief now, she would never stop crying.

  “Little to tell,” she murmured. “I had this terrible dream that has come true.”

  “Only the one?” The man sounded faintly disappointed.

  “Yes, but my mother had dreams like this as a young girl. She told me that her father used to put something on the fire and breathe in the smoke to see further into the future.”

  “What substance was that?”

  “My mother made me learn the type of rocks that must be ground and mixed together to produce it, but it is a family secret. She said I must tell no one else.”

  “If others put the powder into the flames, would they be able to have such dreams too?”

  “Modir says not. My grandfather let a friend of his try once but the visions were so awful, she never did so again. My mother has not dreamed since I was born. She hoped the ability had died out, until I had my dream.”

  “I understand.” Atli looked at her thoughtfully. “If these substances were brought to you and you mixed them, do you think you would have such a dream again?”

  “Perhaps. I’ve never tried to force a dream to come. The first one came without any warning at all and Modir had several like that. I wish I hadn’t inherited her ability. It’s a curse to know what is about to happen and not be able to prevent it!” Emer started to cry.

  “What have you done to her?” Finnr stood glaring down at the merchant, his hands clenched at his sides.

  “Nothing. We were talking about her father and she is naturally upset. See if you can comfort her, I can’t.” Atli rose and walked away.

  Finnr sat down and as Emer grew calmer, he dragged the story out of her.

  “Nele told me part of this,” he said when she had finished. “He, too, was sold for a slave to this man Atli and would have been taken back to Skuy eventually. If Atli had not come from Ulv-oy to Colonsey, to bring trade goods to the headman Dubne, we would not have known about either Nele or Olaf. Dag used what little silver he brought with him to buy Nele back, that’s why he has none left to ransom Olaf. I will do everything in my power to make Dag go north to find him, as soon as we can.”