Emer was sitting with Edan when they heard the sound of horses returning. Emer went to the door and looked out. All the horses carried sacks and Beacan rode between Dag and Hari. They dismounted and Hari led the way to the hut where he used to work and keep his tallies. The horses were unloaded and a few of Dag’s men carried the sacks inside. Then the door was closed. Nothing happened for a while and Emer returned to Edan, telling him about what she had seen. It was some time later when Hari came to find her.
“You’ve been successful then?” Emer asked him and Hari nodded.
“Very successful. Fadir had not changed his hiding place and Rolf had not found it, although they say he searched hard.”
“I saw you arrive and the horses being unloaded,” Emer said, “and then you all went into the hut.”
“Beacan divided the silver between Dag and me and he has paid his crew. They are happy men.” Hari turned to Edan. “He has your share and says you’d better get well, before he spends it all.” Edan’s lips twisted in what might have been a grin.
“Are you upsetting my baby brother?” Dag stood behind him.
“I’m telling him you’re going to spend his treasure.”
“I’ll… get… well” The words came out as a hiss.
Dag dropped on his knees beside the bed and took Edan’s chin in his hand, turning his head from side to side.
“I thought I’d taught you how to dodge better than that. Renny will faint at the sight of your ugly mug. You know they broke your nose for you?”
“Yessssss. Lucky… before.”
“You’re lucky now. You’re alive and noses mend. Do you want to go home soon?”
“To… Renny… yessssss!”
“Good. Then do what you’re told for the first time in your life and I’ll ship you off to her.”
“Have you decided then?” Hari asked and Dag nodded.
“I’m staying here, for a while at least.” Dag grinned. “I like this place. It’s dark and wild. Reminds me of my childhood home. Not that you’d remember, Brodir, you’re too young. Fadir’s getting sick of me hanging around. Time I made my own life as he did and there’s a girl…”
A faint hooting sound came from the patient in the bed.
“Enough of that, Brodir. You’re in no fit state to give cheek to me or anybody else for a while.”
“Dance… at… wedding.”
Four days later, when the wind swung around to the north, Dag’s ship was loaded and ready for sea. Thorstein acted as captain in Dag’s place. Edan and the other wounded were carried aboard and made as comfortable as possible.
“Tell Fadir I’ll return at Luanistyn, farewell Brodir. Gods keep you.”
“And you.”
The ship sailed swiftly. Their first destination was Myl, where they stopped to put Drifa and Halla ashore.
“I paid Drifa her share of Fadir’s fortune, so she has no cause to stay on Skuy,” Hari told Emer. “Dag doesn’t want them and neither does anyone else. Let their own people feel the sharp edge of their tongues. We have felt it long enough.”
It was a subdued Drifa, with the marks of her beating and Emer’s scarring blue and swollen on her face. She climbed down into the waiting skiff. Halla was carried aboard, for Emer had snapped the woman’s knee cap in two. It would be some time before she would be able to walk again. Neither of them said goodbye, but they shot poisonous looks at Hari and Emer as they left.
“That’s that,” Thorstein said when he returned. “Good riddance to that pair of harridans. The lady’s brother didn’t look too pleased to see his sister. I pity him her company.”
As the sun was setting on the third day of their voyage, Dag’s ship sailed into the great bay. He turned its prow into the Awin Vooar . The journey had been, for once, uneventful, for which everyone gave thanks. Emer and Hari were home again.
That night they sat in Ragnar’s hall and told their story.
“So the young hawk has left the nest at last.” Ragnar laughed when he found out that Dag had remained on Skuy.
“There is a woman on Skuy who caught his fancy,” Emer said with a smile. “Her name is Romi.”
“Good. About time he produced a son. Are you content that Dag remains and rules in the place that should have been yours?” Ragnar asked Hari.
“I am. I don’t want to live there again. Dag asked me to bring back something for you.” With a grin, Hari swung two sacks onto the table and pulled them open. Silver coins, bracelets and goblets shone in the firelight. Everyone gasped. “This is part of Fadir’s hoard. He’d added to it since the last time I saw it. We agreed to split it into three parts and drew up another contract with the help of Beacan, my lovsigemann. Dag kept a third, one third is mine and this is yours.”
“These are riches indeed and, by rights, should be yours, according to our original agreement.” Ragnar gave Hari a hard stare.
“What I have is sufficient to buy the things my family needs now and in the future. Without your help, I would have retrieved none of it. This is yours. I call upon everyone here to witness my words.”
A great shout went up. Hari sat down and smiled at Emer.
Epilogue
It was high summer when the dragonship returned from Skuy and the beginning of the harvest was approaching. This was the time of the festival called Luanistyn on the island and Lughnasa elsewhere. The name and the customs continued even after the Norsemen invaded. The newcomers entered enthusiastically into the events and produced many champions in the contests, whether they were runners or spearmen or poets.
This year the event was to be held on flat land by the bay. People travelled long distances to attend. Their tents filled the meadows. Emer and Hari came with her parents. They stayed with Renny in the village. By this time, Edan was hobbling around on sticks, trying to look as if the effort did not hurt him.
Thorstein had taken the dragonship back to Skuy to pick up Dag. Everyone was waiting excitedly for it to return. Once they had come back home, Emer felt as if she had been freed from some sort of prison. She shed the unhappiness and responsibilities of the last year and became a girl again, laughing and singing. Hari smiled to see her and her parents rejoiced, but Emer had a secret sorrow. Since she had lost her baby, she had not quickened again. Before they set out for the festival, she had spoken to her mother. Niamh went away and came back with a flask containing a small amount of liquid that smelt of herbs.
“My father made me drink this potion, when I could not bear children,” Niamh said. “He taught me how to make it and I keep a supply for other women. It will bring a baby if you drink it after you lie with Hari.”
Emer pulled out the stopper and sniffed. “It smells sweet.”
“There is honey in it, as well as herbs. Athair wrote the secret down in the book I once showed you,” Niamh told her. “After I am gone the book will belong to you. Keep it safe so you or one of your children can use it to help others.”
“Thank you, I will.”
Emer took the flask and brought it with her to the festival. The family had spent Luanistyn at Ragnar’s village many times before, but now she was rich and Hari was with her. It was wonderful to introduce him to old friends. They feasted each night. New poems and stories were told, invented especially for this feast. There were ceremonies in praise of the gods and athletic events. Emer entered the archery contests and won. Her victory on Skuy had given her a new confidence. Olaf suggested to Hari that he tried sword fighting.
“I will even wager on you,” he said and Hari laughed.
This year would also see a number of hand-fastings. Chief among them, to Emer at least, were those of Freydis to Njall and Finnr to Pola. Her childhood friend looked intensely proud and Emer, on her husband’s arm, put away the past and wished him happy with all her heart.
A shout went up from the beach and everyone turned to see the dragonship sailing into the bay, nosing its way towards the river. There was a great chorus of greetings. Dag came up to his father and greeted him.
He embraced Edan and said how much better he looked.
“Thanks to Renny,” Edan said. “Don’t tempt me to leave her again. My raiding days are over. My sons can go in my place.”
“They are over for me as well,” Dag said.
“What?”
Dag turned and Romi came towards them through the crowd. She was richly dressed, wearing her kransen and her parents followed her proudly.
“Fadir, I bring you my future wife. Today we will be hand-fasted and wed at the end of the promised time.”
“My son, I am glad,” Ragnar said and hugged Romi. “Welcome to our family.”
That afternoon, all of the couples came forward in turn. They put their hands through a huge stone with a hole in the middle, which was kept for this purpose. Then their wrists were tied together. They plighted their troth, promising to be as man and wife for a year and a day.
“Don’t think I am going to let you go, when that time is over,” Dag told Romi.
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
Emer and Hari stayed for a time with their friends, congratulating the newly joined couples.
“You’re not sad, are you?” Finnr asked Emer, when the others were out of earshot. “If I could not have you…”
She raised her finger to his lips, stopping him.
“Today we are both happy. Who knows what would have happened if we had wed. Pola is a lovely girl and I love Hari. Let the past go, but remember we will always be friends.”
She pulled his head down and kissed his cheek.
Later on she sought out Hari, who was sitting drinking with Njall and Freydis.
“Will you walk with me, Hari, while you still can?”
“Where to?” Hari laughed, put his beaker down and got to his feet.
“There is a well that is said to work magic if we visit it on this day. It’s not far.”
The well was small stream that bubbled out of the earth. It had been ringed around with stones, so no one should stumble into it and foul the waters.
“Is this it? What must we do?” Hari asked.
“Take this.” Emer dropped a small pin into Hari’s palm. “Throw it into the well and wish for fine children.”
Hari closed his eyes and threw. Then Emer threw her own pin.
“Now you must take dip your heel into the water.”
Giggling like children, they removed their shoes and, standing on one foot and holding onto each other, they put their feet into the cold running water. They started to sway. Hari slipped and pulled Emer down on top of him into a bed of fern, laughing and kissing.
What better place to make a baby? Emer thought to herself as she responded to Hari’s passion.
Afterwards, they walked back to their friends, nibbling bilberries that grew wild along the way. Emer had gathered a handful and gave them to Hari, knowing that they, too, were said to help women conceive. That night she found the little flask and drank the contents to the last drop.
“Afi, thank you,” she murmured. “May the first of those children you promised me lie safe within my belly.”
She also prayed to Frigg and Freyja that the potion would work. She wanted a baby so badly, a child who would not share her uncanny gift. She wanted him to live his life without knowledge of the future, in the same way as everyone else. She clutched her green stone tightly and wished as hard as she could.
Copyright © 2014 by Michèle McGrath
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the author.
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
My books are fiction set in history.
Front cover artwork:
Copyright © Sheri McGathy 2014
All rights reserved
No part of the cover image may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the illustrator.
Written in English (UK)
Published by Riverscourt Publishing.
Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or the site where you bought it from.
I send out new and exclusive stories to my email list. If you wish to join, please sign up on my website http://www.michelemcgrath.co.uk
About Michèle McGrath
Award winning author, Michele McGrath, was born on the beautiful Isle of Man in the middle of the Irish Sea. She has lived in California, Liverpool, France and Lancashire before returning home. Living in Paris and Grenoble taught her to make a mean ratatouille and she learned the hula in Hawaii.
Michele is a qualified swimming teacher and manager, writing self help books on these subjects. Although she writes in many genres, her real loves are historical romance and fantasy. She has won numerous writing competitions, had second places and been short-listed many times. She has had tens of thousands of sales and downloads.
**Visit her blog at http://www.michelemcgrath.co.uk/blog
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What others are saying about Michele's books:
"From the very first and magical sentence, I was hooked on this novel."
Eddie on Kindle, reviewing Manannan's Magic.
“Set in post-revolutionary France, Duval and the Infernal Machine captures the atmosphere of suspicion and intrigue that reigned in Paris at the time. The author does a splendid job of immersing the reader into the darker corners of the city." Simon on Kindle reviewing Duval and the Infernal Machine.
“I have been terrified of the water ever since nearly drowning in Lake Michigan. My wife has tried to teach me to float - with no success - for 40 years. The techniques outlined in this book are easy to follow. Maybe finally, after all these years, I'll be able to swim and NOT be afraid of the water. Thanks Michele, wish you lived in the States so I could get private lessons." Steven on Kindle reviewing Learn to Swim, even if you are terrified."
“An intriguing and haunting short story, which the author says is based upon a real wartime experience. The fitting and satisfying ending will stay with me for a long time. An excellent story."
Gunnar on Kindle reviewing Five Lamps.
“Beautiful! Just 12 short pages, but it left me in tears. The author has such a delicate, lovely way with words that the sentences and sentiments were whispered over the pages. I will save this on my kindle to read again."
Tina on Kindle reviewing The Carpenter's Bench.
Books by Michèle McGrath
Novels
Regency Belles & Beaux
Lady Alice’s Dilemma: Lady Alice is enjoying her first London Season until her disgraced brother appears in disguise.
Miss Ridgeway’s Privateer (Coming shortly) Following her father’s death, Lucy is sent to her grandmother in Ireland, where she is to be presented at the Viceroy’s court. These plans are interrupted when the ship she is travelling on is captured by French privateers. Lucy is held for ransom. One of her captors is the Irishman Patrick O’Rourke, the ship’s surgeon whom she has met before in unusual circumstances. How can she possibly fall in love with a pirate?
Lord Philip’s Christmas: More adventures of Lady Alice’s errant brother culminating in Brussels at the time of Waterloo.
Regency Belles & Beaux: Box set of three books.
The Manannan Series (Historical Fantasy)
Manannan’s Magic: Manannan McLir flees from a blood feud in Ireland and finds a tragic love with a young Celtic girl, Renny. Betrayal, a Viking invasion and a narrow escape all feature in this novel.
Niamh of the Golden Hair: Niamh is captured by Viking raiders and unexpectedly falls in love with her captor. When he is badly injured, she must find her father, Manannan, who may be able to
cure his wound.
Emer’s Quest: Emer, Manannan’s granddaughter, dreams that her father will be shipwrecked. She rides after him to prevent him leaving but she is too late. She persuades friends to follow him. On her journey she meets Atli, a trader who offers to rescue her father if she will marry one of his sons. Unfortunately his son Hari does not want her.
Manannan Trilogy: Box Set
Duval Series (Napoleon’s Police)
Duval and the Infernal Machine 1800: Rookie police agent, Alain Duval investigates the attempted assassination on Napoleon Bonaparte. The book features romance, terror and an unexpected ending.
Duval and the Empress’s Crown 1804: Police Agent Alain Duval is tasked with finding the crown but time is very short and his suspects many. Present when the crown disappeared are Napoleon's sisters, Princess Elisa, Princess Pauline and Princess Caroline. Are they involved or merely witnesses? Aided by his wife Eugenie and his friends Lefebvre and Fournier, Duval sets out to unravel the mystery.
Duval and the Italian Opera Singer 1805: Carla Cortini arrives in Paris claiming that her son is Napoleon’s child. She relates the story to Duval and enquiries seem to confirm that it is true. When Duval goes to tell her and take her to the Emperor, he discovers that the mother and son have been kidnapped.
Duval at Waterloo 1815: The last Duval book. Duval travels to Paris and gets caught up in the preparations for Napoleon’s last battle.
Napoleon’s Police: Box set of the first three Duval books published.
Short Story Collections
Bible Women: Five short stories of women in the New Testament, starting from the birth of Christ until his death.
Manannan Trilogy Page 61
