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by Desconhecido


  Eirik stood just in front of the mast as they began rowing back from the beach. “Listen up, slaves. You stay where we put you until you’re told to move. If it sounds urgent, it probably is, but only move when you’re told. Move at the wrong moment and it can cause lots of trouble, including sending the ship over.” He looked hard at them. “You need something, ask. Food and water will get passed around from time to time.”

  Eirik turned to the raiders tied at the stern of the ship. “Behave and you live. Don’t and you go over the side. Got it?” They nodded. Being a slave still beat drowning.

  Hjorr on the Serpent tossed them a towrope tied to the raider’s ship. The two ships worked together to tow it out to sea. It’d been stripped of any usable metal, parts and the valuable sail. Once far enough out, Eirik’s men sent fire arrows into a pile of tinder made from old clothes, small twigs and other easily lit stuff. Smoke curled from the pile as they continued to tow it farther out. Finally, flame rose through the smoke. They released the ropes and left her to drift and burn.

  Fridgeir took a last look at the beach. So much had happened, changed. He held hope that Eireann would settle in as his bedmate. He let a smile play across his face. He could hardly wait to get her home to his bed!

  “Raise sail!” the old dog at the steering board ordered. Eirik leant his berserker strength to the task, grabbing the rope right behind Fridgeir. When raised, the sail hung from a yardarm raised up the mast. When stowed, the yard lowered and swung to rest parallel to and against the mast with the sail neatly rolled. Hauling the heavy yard and sail up the mast and into position took plenty of good strong backs. A burst of activity ended with the oars stowed in racks on either side amidships, ropes secured and loose ends coiled. Bilge buckets sat ready and plugs swung shut over the oar holes. By the time they’d turned north, the raider’s ship sent flames skyward as she burned. She would sink soon enough.

  The Dragon’s Fire took the lead with the Serpent on her left and the Drake on her right.

  Eirik carefully made his way forward. The women had been settled against the outer hull so a narrow path remained to the bow. Eirik took a deep breath, facing into the wind. A look of contentment filled his face. The wind combed through the loose hair spilling down his back and escaping from the thin braids on either side of his face. Fridgeir thought his friend never looked more at ease than when sailing. A feeling Fridgeir shared. To sea and home!

  Behind him, a couple men pulled out wooden flutes and someone took up a rhythm on the rail of the Fire. Another followed using a keg for a deeper sound. Flute and drum found the heartbeat of ship and sea. Eirik turned an approving grin on the company as the homewarding chant rose.

  Fridgeir knew, without hearing it, that the other ships followed suit. They asked the blessings of the gods for their journey and gave thanks for the bounty they carried. His strong voice sang into the wind whipping at his face. He closed his eyes in a rapture he felt nowhere else.

  Men shifted with the wind, trimming the sail, balancing the load. Fridgeir joined with the rest of the men on watch balancing the Fire while she sailed. Without a large or deep keel, she could land anywhere and sail or row up almost any river—but she could also capsize fairly easily. So the company provided moveable ballast to keep her upright. The wind ruffled his beard. He breathed deep the peace of the sea and smiled at his Eireann. He looked forward to getting home with his prize. I hope she likes Dragon’s Head. Has she ever lived among a large group of people?

  * * * *

  Eireann found sitting still on the floor of the ship, unable to see anything but sky incredibly boring. Saibh curled against her, avoiding looking at all the large men sharing the ship with them. Chloe with her baby sat opposite.

  Behind them, a game of some kind started with playing pieces on a board. Wagers and suggestions were made as the two players maneuvered. Some men joked and told tales near the stern and one of the flute players played bits of songs to accent the tales. Eireann sighed with boredom.

  “You don’t like sailing?” Fridgeir asked from his position on the farthest forward trunk.

  She shrugged. “It’s boring. Especially when stuck down here with nothing to see.”

  He smiled and looked back at the old dog. A quick hand signal and nod passed between them. “Come sit with me a bit then.” He patted the spot next to him.

  She moved, then surveyed beyond the longship. Land lay to the right but detail was lost in the haze of a warm summer day. To the left, the ocean stretched to the horizon. “Not much to see from here either.” She sighed again.

  Fridgeir grinned. “No, not really.” He stroked down her arm and set his hand over hers. He didn’t close on it but left it as he turned back to watching the sea.

  The day wore on. Eireann moved back to the bow when Fridgeir took his turn helping with the lines on the sail. She didn’t say, but the speed of the Dragon's Fire impressed her. As a fisherman’s daughter, she’d sailed a lot as a young girl. None of their ships flew over the waves like this one. Even the merchant’s fancy ship plodded in comparison.

  Just before the sun set, they turned toward shore. Horn calls sounded messages between ships. With the rays of the setting sun at their backs, they dropped sail and rode softly up on a gravel beach. Eireann thought it would have looked impressive from shore, the three drekkar moved almost as one and lined up evenly spaced on the shore.

  Eireann thought it odd that they made no effort to tie any but the seven raiders. Until she walked with Saibh into the brush. They’d landed on a narrow strip of an island. The real shore rose barely visible in the growing dusk, far to the west. Much too far to swim. Even so, the northmen set up watches for the night. A well used fire pit waited for them and soon she found herself tending three pots of stew.

  “So, Fridgeir, tell us about your prize there. She seems a bit worn around the edges.” Bergulfr dropped down beside him and offered a bag of wine. Fridgeir chuckled and launched into a colorful description of their first meeting. Eireann ignored the lusty looks from the other company as she moved about, serving. Tonight, no one tried to touch her but the lusty looks started to wear on her nerves.

  By the time they settled to sleep, Eirik’s group had updated the other two crews with only slightly embellished versions of their stay at the raider’s cove. Saibh stayed as close to Eireann as she could get. Thankfully the new men left her alone. The women from the forest and the two new slaves didn’t fare so well. The teasing and handling bothered Eireann more than it seemed to bother the other women. She sighed and settled next to Fridgeir.

  Leocadia spent her evening serving and all but hovering over Eirik and his three cousins. Eireann tried not to laugh—she’d known plenty of women like her. They always went for the men of high status. Or else she had a thing for berserkers. Either way, the men responded to her attention as men always do. Yet none of them did more than give her a look or brief stroke of her arm.

  Fridgeir leaned close and lipped her ear. “Berserkers are a lusty bunch but also prone to fighting over women. Eirik and his cousins have a long-standing agreement to avoid such conflicts. So try as she might, she’ll be sleeping alone tonight.” His breath tickled across her ear followed by his tongue. A delightful shiver ran down her back. A lusty wink from Eirik sparked her ire. On reflex she stuck out her tongue at him, then blanched when she realized what she’d done. He snickered and turned back to the conversation.

  When they settled to sleep, Fridgeir once more laid on his side facing her back, but didn’t wrap his arms around her. As he relaxed he stroked her arm softly, and down her side. He kissed her neck so lightly she shivered as his beard tickled her neck. Tonight she felt much less trapped and drifted to sleep almost immediately.

  Chapter 15

  Day 7, morning through evening

  They rose with first light and set sail once more. The wind favored them and a good mark before sunset, they sailed into Dungar Harbor. To avoid a panicked misunderstanding they ran white trade flags up their
masts. The walled town sat in the protected arm of a large bay. Watchtowers stood on either side of the opening and the breakwater had been expanded with stone walls. Several ships rested beside wooden docks in front of several warehouses. Beyond that the large town spread its maze of streets and alleys up the swell of land behind the bay. They headed for the lone dock far to the left. The Fire docked on one side and the Drake on the other. The Sea Serpent tied up to her sister ship. No warehouses stood here, but a large gateway led through the stone and wood wall.

  The harbormaster waited with the usual escort of armed guards. Eirik smiled his greeting.

  “Good to see you too, Fat Willy.” He offered his arm in a friendly gesture. The harbormaster, an exceptionally thin man, smiled back and took it in a firm grasp.

  “Eirik Dragon Heart. I see you and your cousins have been terrorizing my competitors again,” he teased lightly and reminded them that Northmen could trade there as long as they left them and their local merchants alone.

  Eirik laughed lightly. “Well, first we ran across some raiders, then some forest folk and lastly, a bunch of merchants from Alhenia thought to bully me out of my fairly gotten goods!”

  The harbormaster raised a brow as he looked over the ships. “So what are you selling today? All the women?” Fat Willy looked Eireann over with a greedy smirk. Women of the Wild Isles rarely made it to the slave markets in one piece since they had a tendency to anger their captors beyond reason.

  “Not all and don’t even look at that one. She’s Fridgeir’s and her young sister stays with us as well.” Eirik pointed to the two they’d taken off the merchants. “Those two plus those young women and the seven ragged-looking men are for sale. We’ve also some gold and silver trinkets to sell and supplies to purchase. How’s that cloth merchant doing?”

  The harbormaster made some notes on his tablet. “Rather well—I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you. And the wine seller—and we’ve a new man, blows glass vessels and such. True works of art fit for the High King of the North.” He motioned toward the dock. “I assume you'll be staying the night? The duke as always offers you room at his keep.”

  Eirik shook his head politely. “We’ll be staying in order to complete our trades on the morrow but I must decline the duke’s generous offer.” He winked conspiratorially. “Can’t leave these rowdy worms for a moment without blood flowing.” He knew the harbormaster knew better, but it made a good excuse to avoid the very dull duke’s table.

  “Well then, I’m sure your countryman will put you up as usual. I’ve made my notes, make sure you see me before leaving, to settle up,” the harbormaster reminded him with a smile and took his guards and left. The town owned the harbor and received a percentage of all goods bought and sold. As a king, Eirik understood the need for taxes and they’d negotiated a reasonable rate that included not sacking the town regularly.

  The sound of ponycarts coming from beyond the gate reached them. Nokki, one of the few Northmen who lived outside the Northlands, arrived with three carts and men to help unload. They unloaded those items they’d already agreed to sell and passed around a share of the coin for those who wanted to shop. The women to be sold and the five raiders rode in one cart. The other two carts carried a mix of the slaves going north and goods to be sold. The men walked.

  Eirik walked next to Nokki. “Nokki, we’ve need of a wet nurse. Do you know any women who’d share, at least while we are here?”

  Nokki stared in confusion for a moment. “For that slave’s baby? Is the mother ill? She seems awfully thin."

  Eirik filled him in as they walked.

  “Actually, my daughter’s son’s getting old enough to wean. I am sure she’d share,” Nokki offered. “Hard to believe they’d treat their own children that way!”

  Leif joined in. “According to Leocadia, they were the whelps of lesser males. She told us they only consider their own kind to be people so that made the children less than people as well.”

  Nokki shook his head and added with a grin, “And they call us barbarians!” A standing joke among Northlanders. Few knew them other than as fierce raiders and warriors. Barbarian was one of the politer names folks called them.

  * * * *

  A long hall stood in the center of the compound, with storage sheds and stables lining the outer walls. To the right, a smallish gate led directly into the winding streets of the city. Through the larger gate at the far end, men gathered milk cows from the fields beyond into the sheds on the left side of the gate. Double doors at the end of the long hall faced the harbor gate. The steep-pitched roof and bargeboards carved with swirls and animals looked like any long hall found in the Northlands proper. Inside, tall columns held the rafters up and created end posts for the sleeping alcoves lining both sides of the hall. A hard-packed dirt floor ran down the middle with a large fire hearth in the center, used for both cooking and heating. The alcoves stood on raised wooden platforms with thin wood walls running from the columns to the outside wall. Curtains hung from cross poles just above head height for the tall Northmen. Just below the eaves, windows covered with thin vellum let in a fair amount of light as did the fully opened smoke hole over the fire ring. The smoke hole could be opened wide or partly covered to keep rain out. On the near side of the fire ring stood a trestle table with the remains of the evening meal. Beyond, Eireann could make out a large loom, spinning wheel and storage cabinets lining the far end.

  The familiarity with which a brown-haired, blue-eyed lady greeted Eirik and his cousins told Eireann they had been here many times before. A gaggle of children from barely walking to almost grown gathered excitedly around them until the adults shooed them out the door. Eireann thought it might have been crowded before they arrived. Now it overflowed with noise and people. She wondered where they would all sleep.

  “Wife, the High King and his cousins are here. Let’s see, that would be what…about a hundred and eighty, hundred and ninety men plus slaves. Oh, and Fridgeir has himself a wild woman!” Nokki informed them with a sly grin.

  The hall buzzed even louder and Eireann found herself surrounded by curious men, women and the few children still inside. Saibh buried her head against Eireann’s side as the crowd pushed closer. Eireann put an arm protectively around her sister to shield her. Her menacing stare did little to deter those wanting a closer look. Fridgeir just basked in all the attention, much to Eireann’s growing annoyance.

  The head woman looked her over with a critical eye. “We’d best set aside an alcove for him then.” She smirked as she looked Eireann over. “Or maybe we should put him out in the bull barn. It has strong posts to tie her to since she still seems a bit wild.” The woman met Eireann’s gaze in clear challenge. Eireann stared back just as hard.

  A huge smile lit Fridgeir’s face. “No need. See? Her hands aren’t even tied. Although I’d keep away from her teeth!”

  Eireann glared at him then sweetly replied, “Too bad you don’t take your own advice!” And ran her tongue across her teeth seductively. Those nearby laughed and jostled each other knowingly. Nokki slapped Fridgeir on the back.

  “I can’t wait to hear the story behind this one!” He looked her over admiringly. “Looks like she put up a good struggle at some point.”

  Fridgeir grinned and set his arm on her shoulder. He nodded. “True enough, but for me, she’s as tame as kitten.” He winked at her slyly.

  She dropped her gaze to the floor to hide the anger rising within her. At the moment I want nothing more than to rip that smug grin off his face!

  Someone from the group called out, “Oh-ho! Best watch your back or other body parts there, Fridgeir. Look’s more like a wild cat than barn kitten!” That got more laughs.

  Eirik stepped up. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we could get settled? And I hate to ask, but morning meal was a long time ago. And I’d appreciate if you didn’t press so close to the young one. She’s under my protection and more than a bit shy.”

  The wife quickly had everyone settled. Fridg
eir ate inside with Eirik, his cousins, Cedric, Leif, Arinbjorn and a few men from the other two drekkar. Eireann found herself standing behind Fridgeir and waiting on him and those nearest him. Leocadia joined her along with a couple of slaves who lived there. Her stomach growled a bit too loudly as she leaned over to fill Fridgeir’s mug of beer. He reached out and pulled her into him. Instinctively she started to pull away, then made herself relax.

  “Here, sit.” He patted his lap. “And share some of my dinner.” He offered her some meat off the end of his seax.

  She leaned over and took it neatly off. Guess it’s not so bad if he’s going to feed me.

  He looked pointedly down at his lap and she gingerly seated herself sideways. He offered her more meat and some beer to wash it down.

  * * * *

  Most had finished and were sitting back drinking a last beer when Eireann realized Saibh wasn’t by the loom where she’d left her. A group of women had gathered there to drink and talk without the men in the way.

  “Excuse me, ladies. Have you seen my sister?” Eireann asked as politely as possible. She couldn’t hide the worry in her voice.

  “Looks like you but younger and very skittish?” one woman asked.

  Eireann nodded.

 

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