Snorri hunkered in the grass and jabbed a finger at the sky in frustration. Lightning streaked overhead and Thor's roar nearly flattened them.
People crowded toward the ships to find relief from the wind. Ulfrik watched the guards huddle, oblivious to their approach. The ferocity of the storm threatened to sweep men away, and everyone outside had a single concern to survive the wind and avoid lightning.
Ulfrik crouched and yelled in Snorri's ear. "There are only four of the bastards. They're not even watching us. We kill them and get to the ships left by the shore."
Snorri's eyes widened, and Ulfrik smiled. Then he pulled himself to Ulfrik's ear. "You're fucking crazy. This storm would drive us into the cliffs or swamp us. And we don't have any weapons."
"Of course we do. Look under your feet."
Snorri scrabbled back and looked down. "We're going to choke them with grass?"
"No, you old fool. Rocks. Bash their heads open with rocks. Look!" Ulfrik pried up a fist-sized rock. "Time to crack some hazelnuts."
Ulfrik hefted his muddy rock and smiled as Snorri dug up his own. Ulfrik stooped low against the wind, going from man to man and instructing them to find a rock. He monitored the guards as they huddled against the ship with their backs turned. He crawled closer and waited for his men to join him. He glanced back. Lightning flashed and painted the land white and black. His men inched across the grass like giant snails.
Ulfrik struck in time with the lightning. His rock slammed into the skull of a guard who crumpled as thunder shuddered the earth. One guard turned in time to catch a rock in his face. Two other men beat him down, his howl inaudible over the hiss of wind and rain. Ulfrik fished a knife from the man at his feet. The guard lay face down in muddy water, but Ulfrik took the knife and thrust it into the man's throat for good measure. He did not trust his plan to a rock, but cold iron gave him heart. Then he cut away his bonds.
The other men huddled over dead bodies, stripping them of anything useful. Rain bounced violently off their backs. In moments, eight of his twelve men were armed either with long knives or spears. The other slaves, captives from Hardar and Vermund's lands, hung back. When lightning struck, Ulfrik saw the whites of their terrified eyes.
Snorri scuttled over to Ulfrik. "Now what? We're armed. Do we attack?"
Ulfrik shook his head. "Let's get to the ships. We can be ready to launch once the storm eases up. Kjotve won't come out before then, not in this weather.
As if to emphasize his point, a gust of wind flipped his sodden cloak over his head and caused him to stumble onto Snorri. They laughed a moment, then Ulfrik stood straight above all the others who still hugged the ground. He circled his hand in the air, then pointed toward the shore with his spear. Without delay, he put his head down and ran.
Wind fought him, and more than once he fell into the thick muck. But he reached the two ships, and threw himself against one's hull. Others tumbled after him. He wiped mud and water from his face. The storm had not abated, but he had seen storms like this often enough in these lands. They would rage a few hours then pass. Patience would be repaid with a change of weather.
"I think this is going to work," Snorri hollered. "By the gods, we're going to get away with a ship!"
"I told you he was over confident. Let's pick one of these ships and wreck the other one. Steal the rudder, ropes, oars, anything he could use to steer it. That will give us strong lead."
"Good idea. Where are we going?"
"To find help. Ragnvald or anyone else who will listen." Ulfrik shared his plan with his crew, and they jumped to the work. The other captives, mostly women and children, watched silently and huddled together like a black lump in the gloom. Ulfrik shook his head and inwardly cursed them for being no braver than the sheep they had once herded.
After the rudder and oars of one ship were aboard the other, Ulfrik decided the storm had subsided enough to chance the sea. Snorri disagreed, but Ulfrik insisted. "If we wait until it's completely safe, Kjotve will find us. We have to brave the storm. You know I can do this. Let's move!"
Ulfrik's heart throbbed with joy. Escape was as easy as walking away. He only had to steer the ship clear of hazards and then his crew would row them to safety. Kjotve would give chase, but the ocean swallows all trace of man's passing.
Though sore and weak from his days in captivity, he put his shoulder to the cold strakes of the ship and pushed. The ship sank into the mud as he and the others shoved. He groaned with the exertion. Rain and sweat mixed on his face.
Then a man stumbled. Wind still filled his ears, but he thought he heard screams. He looked back.
At first he saw only flashing silver eyes in the night. They might have been elves come searching for mischief. Then he realized they were the flashes of weapons in the storm gloom. Kjotve's roar became clearer.
"Push!" Ulfrik screamed. The rocks of the sea were already at his feet. But strong waves rolled them back. "We are so close!"
Another man fell, and Ulfrik realized that despite the angry winds, Kjotve's men still hurled spears or axes at them. Ulfrik felt tears streak down his face. "Push!"
But the ship thudded to the rocks, becoming as unmovable as a mountain. He felt a sharp point jab his back, and he put up his hands. He had thrown his spear on the deck of the ship, but a fight now would be his death.
The man spun him around and yanked him forward. He landed on the rocks, and as he tried to raise himself, something butted the back of his skull. His head slammed forward onto a heavy stone and his world snapped to soundless darkness.
Ulfrik felt the cold rain of the storm blast him full in the face. He awoke with a shout, a blanket of sullen gray clouds filling his sight. Then someone kicked him and he heard angry voices. The water in his mouth was salty, not rainwater. He felt a deck beneath his hands, and he raised his head.
His vision swam from the blow, but he instinctively sensed the rocking of a ship at sea. The he remembered what had happened, and realized he was aboard Kjotve's ship. He was laid out in the stern, facing Kjotve as he glared down on him. He heard oars splashing the water.
"Oars in! Time for a demonstration!" Kjotve ordered. Ulfrik's head fell to the side. He saw people seated at their oars, hauling them in. The mast was up and the sail furled. He saw Ingrid with her hands tied before her, staring at him from beneath tangled, platinum hair.
Someone hauled him up, then smashed him face-first into the mast pole. Another man jerked his hands around the pole, while the man behind him kicked Ulfrik's feet into position on both sides of the mast. Then they bound him, and lashed him to the mast with heavy coils. Kjotve inspected, circling around as they did.
Kjotve tested Ulfrik's bindings. He had some tightened and others loosened. "We don't want your hands to go cold and dead. I won't get much sale value if you don't have limbs, though I've a mind to hack them off anyway." Kjotve's breath was hot on the side of his face. Ulfrik's cheek pressed to the smooth mast pole, blocking vision from his left side. On his right, he saw Kjotve and beyond his shoulder he saw Snorri. Tears filled his old friend's eyes.
Kjotve shouted orders and signaled the other ships in his fleet. The ship drifted under the slate sky, a watery light rendering the world plain and dull. He waited for the other ships to pull in closer before he stood in the prow and shouted.
"You killed four of my men. Four! Were I not such a greedy bastard, I'd have your balls cut off before I drowned you. But you owe me repayment, and I can't get that from a ball-less corpse. So you go to the slave block still. If your plan had worked, it would've been a tale for the skalds. Yet you failed. So punishment is necessary, and someone has to be an example. Who else should bear the punishment, but the leader?"
Ulfrik squeezed his eyes shut. Every muscle tensed and he trembled. He didn't have to hear Kjotve speak the words to know what he planned.
"Forty lashes is light punishment! This hardy young man probably won't even feel it. That's how generous I am in these matters. But if anyone tries or plan
s another escape, I will have that person lashed to death."
Ulfrik gritted his teeth. He had heard stories of men dying under the lash. A stray hit to the head instead of the back could kill. He prayed Kjotve had good aim.
The mast obstructed his sight, but he heard Kjotve approach from the prow. He appeared at Ulfrik's side and brandished a lash of sealskin, just like the ropes used to bind him. "It was an admirable attempt, worthy of you, Ulfrik. But you've got to bleed for it."
Rough hands stripped his tattered shirt and the cold air washed his back. A moment of refreshing sea air hung before the first lash. Then he heard the whip inhale and crack.
His vision exploded into a bright white field. Then pain came, thunder after the lightning. He felt the line of hot agony from his shoulder blade to his hip. He gritted his teeth and determined not to cry out. The next stripe came fast on the second. Kjotve was practiced with his whip and landed close to the first. More pain bloomed, but Ulfrik could withstand it. The whip snapped and struck, repeatedly the crack broke across his back. He squeezed his eyes tight and stifled his cries. His back was crossed with lashing. Errant blows hit the backs of his calves. He did not know if Kjotve counted those. He did not know if anyone counted at all. His back softened, the pain intensified. He thought he would pass out, but instead he forced his knees to lock and stood.
The lash stopped. Only the creaking deck or slapping waves made any sound. He heard Kjotve's lash dragging on the deck as he gathered it to his hand. It was over.
Someone doused him with seawater. The salt on his back made him scream at last. It was all he could take. The fiery throbbing intensified with the sea salt. He thrashed against his bindings, blind with pain. Kjotve again appeared at his side. "Seawater is good for the wounds. You'll live, at least long enough to sell your hide at a fair price."
Ulfrik hung limp, the pain of his bindings incomparable to the agony inflaming his back. Even the breeze, so refreshing moments before, felt like dragon's breath. A vague awareness of Kjotve shouting orders and the lurching of the ship penetrated his haze of suffering. He held his eyes closed, and used whatever strength he had to keep himself from crying.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Clouds hid the sky and refused to dissipate. Toki had waited for a break, and receiving none he chose to sail rather than drift. He had often traveled beneath hidden skies, but never after becoming so disoriented. He had no landmarks to follow, and the only signs were the lack of birds and seaweed that indicated he was still far from land. He had picked a southern course based off the bright patch of sun seeping through the cloud cover.
They rowed south and east, but it was slow travel with only three men to row. Dana took the fourth oar, being a slave accustomed to manual work. She rowed surprisingly well, but did not last. Reluctantly, Toki raised the mast and fought with his steering board to guide them to where he guessed to find land.
But by the end of the day, the expected coastline did not emerge on the horizon. No one spoke more than necessary. Only Gunnar's voice broke the monotony of rowing oars or billowing sail, and he only spoke to his mother. The men rowed and Gerdie tended them like a nursemaid, bringing mead or wiping their brows. When the sail went up, she had nothing more to do and paced the deck in silence.
Halla sat deep in the forecastle, disappearing into the shadows as if she wanted to leave the world. Toki's head ached when he thought of her. He tried to be understanding, but had no patience for it. Ulfrik, for all his fierceness in battle, could effortlessly summon patience and understanding for others. How I wish I could be like you, old friend, Toki thought. You would know how to speak to her. Look at how you tamed my sister!
By the onset of twilight, land still eluded them and the sky still withheld its secrets. Exhausted, he gave the steering board to Einar, who had already rested, and stretched out to sleep. "The wind wants us to go east, and we must head south."
"Odin's Wagon hides from us. Without the north star, I cannot know where I steer."
Toki patted Einar on the shoulder and left him. "Wake me if the skies clear."
He checked on Halla, now curled asleep with Dana in the prow. He considered resting with her, but thought better of it. Instead he tightened his cloak and lay under the mast pole.
Toki awakened in what seemed no time at all. He rolled over, facing a light blue expanse with a faint speckling of stars. The sails bulged with strong wind, but the clouds were gone. The thought jolted him. He shot to his feet in excitement. Thin morning light painted everyone as lumps of rosy gray. Toki turned to Einar and his stomach dropped.
He was asleep at the steering board, slumped over the tiller as if he were dead. Toki rushed to him, shook him violently. "Wake up, you fool! How long have you been asleep?"
Einar snapped awake, batting at Toki as he came to his senses. Toki snarled in his face as realization bloomed in Einar's expression. "I don't know. I was exhausted."
"I see that. The clouds cleared and the sun is up. We can get a heading now. But who knows how long you've steered us in these winds. You should've taken in the sails!" Toki silently cursed himself, knowing responsibility for the sail laid with him. He let go of Einar. "Forget that. There's still no land in sight, and we're lost. From here we need to take a new heading, for Norway."
Einar straightened out his shirt and rubbed his face. "Norway? Are you sure we're that far off?"
Toki shook his head. "But we sail straight east and we will find land. Any other direction and we could be at sea longer than we can survive. Landfall in Norway will let us resupply at least. The wind has been blowing in that direction anyway. We can't be south or we would have found the islands we sought. So we are probably halfway to Norway now. We'll just finish the journey."
"And what about Ulfrik?" Toki jumped at the sudden question from behind. He turned and found Runa seated with Gunnar in her lap. The child still fought with sleep, but Runa's eyes were awake and sparkling.
"He will survive while we find help in Norway. What do you want me to say? We can't help him if we're dead. I don't like this any more than you, but there's no choice."
To his relief, Runa nodded and stroked Gunnar's hair. "Ulfrik is strong. He might even escape without our help. Don't think he needs us to succeed."
Toki smiled. "Half of me believes we're on this journey to get out of his way. I bet he will be waiting for us in the hall back at Nye Grenner, a stupid smile on his face."
Runa laughed faintly, though Toki could see the glimmer of tears running over her cheeks. A teardrop landed on Gunnar, and he fussed with an annoyed cry.
He left his sister to her thoughts, then roused Thrand and Njall to share the plan. He let the others remain asleep, hoping they would awaken with shores in sight.
Landfall occurred later than Toki had expected, but in time to avert disaster. They had lost precious rations during the storm, and casks that held mead were now ruined with seawater. First birds had appeared, lifting spirits, then a purple stripe showed on the horizon which they greeted with cheers and shouts.
But a successful landing proved more challenging. Other sea traffic increased with their proximity to land, and Toki feared square sailed ships plying the distant waters. If any turned toward him, he headed the opposite direction. Once he had arrived at the craggy islands splattering the coastline, Toki found it easier to hide. He managed to catch two fishing ships unaware, and while the crews brandished spears, they were not warriors.
Toki hailed them in peace, though the fishermen were wary of such ploys. He maintained distance as he called from the prow. "We were blown off course in a storm. We only want to find a town to resupply. Where are we?"
The men conferred with each other, until a white-haired man shouted back to him. "You've found More; Jarl Rognvald the Wise rules here. Follow the coast, you will see where the trading ships go."
Toki thanked them and then banked his ship north. The names told him everything he needed. After a short time, he pulled into an inlet where the waters were
calm and the shore flanked by high cliffs topped with dark evergreens. He and the men dragged the ship onto the fine sand beach, so unlike the rocky shores of the Faereyjar, then assisted the women down the gangplank.
Halla accepted his hand but did not look at him as she trotted down the plank. Toki gritted his teeth and forced a smile, reminding himself he had others who needed him to focus.
Everyone delighted in setting foot on land. Gunnar spent his youthful energy running along the shore under Runa's watchful eye. Toki gathered everyone together with a whistle. Only Gunnar refused to heed him, continuing to run and scream with joy.
"I know exactly where we are now, and this place is not friendly to us. Not if they knew we fought Harald Finehair at Hafrsfjord."
"We didn't fight him," Njall said. "Only you, and your sister if the stories are true."
"The stories are true," Toki said. Runa's lips twisted in a wry smile. "But fortunately, we're not the famous ones. I think it's best if we don't tell anyone we are from the Faereyjar Islands. Many of the high king's enemies fled west, and we would be suspect. Let's use my accent to advantage and be Danes. Let me and Runa talk and no one would know better."
"What if someone talks to us?" Thrand asked.
"Then answer; don't act strange. We're not going to be here long. The rest of the plan is to get supplies and get back to sea."
"What about help to rescue Ulfrik?" Runa folded her arms. Toki noticed that behind her, Halla looked away and rolled her eyes at Dana. The gesture irritated him, but Runa misread it. "Sorry if you don't like my question, but that's the whole point of being at sea. We can't delay any longer."
"Agreed. But as I said, the men here will likely side with Harald. I do not trust them. We will go to the Shetlands as originally planned. Men there will be more reliable, and more willing to travel the shorter distance."
"And as I said, we need to get help for Ulfrik. Gods, Toki! You have us sailing everywhere and getting nothing done. First we will find men here, then we won't. Then we go home, but then we sail to the Shetlands. We need to do something!"
Islands in the Fog Page 18
