The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga)

by Roberts, Judson

  Hrodgar and Stig, who were standing nearby, both nodded in agreement. "It was a strange day," Hrodgar said. "The belt was as slick and still as a pond. But at least the rain has finally stopped."

  The wind returned with the dawn, a gentle but steady breeze blowing out of the northeast. By mid-morning we cleared the southern end of the belt, and after sailing through a narrow channel between two small islands off the southwest corner of Sjaelland, we turned our course toward the southeast, following the southern coastline of the island of the kings. Almost as if to make up for its absence the day before, the wind shifted soon after and began blowing harder and from the northwest, pushing our ships along at such a pace that the Gull seemed to almost skim across the surface of the sea.

  We broke our voyage earlier than yester-day, after reaching the island of Falster, south of Sjaelland, in the late afternoon. "We have not had a decent meal since the first night of our journey," Hastein explained. "I, for one, am hungry, and have no wish to eat boiled barley again. Cullain will fix us another stew." To Torvald, he added, "It is why—one of the reasons— I have stopped our journey early this day. It will take Cullain some time to boil the salted pork enough to make it edible."

  "One of the reasons?" Torvald asked. I, too, wondered what others there might be.

  The wizened little Irish thrall, who usually went about his business in silence, interrupted. "As you wish," Cullain said to Hastein. "But you should know that already our store of vegetables is getting low. We brought but one barrel-full aboard the Gull, and there are many mouths to feed."

  "I am aware," Hastein answered. To Torvald, he said, "I plan for us to stop tomorrow on the isle of Mon. It will be but a half-day's sail from here, if the wind is as steady as it was this day. A jarl named Arinbjorn rules there is, and I wish to speak with him. The passages between Mon and Sjaelland to the north, and Mon and Falster to the west, are both narrow. They are the gateways leading from the Austmarr into Danish waters. Arinbjorn keeps close watch over all who pass through them, for the Vends often try to raid up into our southern islands."

  Cullain looked confused, and frowned. "The vegetables…?" he asked, interrupting again.

  "When we stop at Mon, I will purchase more stores," Hastein told him. "I have planned for this. There is a large village on the north side of the island, not far from the jarl's lands. The folk there will have food to sell to us. They often trade with passing ships, for it is not uncommon for those preparing to sail across the Austmarr to stop at Mon seeking provisions. "

  Turning to me, Hastein added, "If Toke's ships passed this way, Arinbjorn will know. That is the other reason we are stopping at Mon."

  * * *

  Hastein had not exaggerated when he'd said that Jarl Arinbjorn kept a close watch over all who passed through the waters around the island of Mon. We had not been sailing long up the channel that separated Mon from the southern shoreline of Sjaelland when we reached a point where the channel narrowed considerably due to a headland that jutted out from the smaller island. As we passed the headland, two longships that had been lying in wait behind it raised their sails and headed out into the channel on a course to intercept us. The two ships were smaller than either the Gull or the Serpent, but they were very fast, and as they drew closer, I could see that their decks bristled with armed men.

  "Do you see those pennants flying from the tops of their masts?" Hastein said, pointing at the approaching longships. He was on the small raised rear deck, standing beside Torvald, who was manning the steer-board. Like several others of the crew, I had walked to the Gull's steer-board side to watch the approaching vessels.

  Each of the two longships had a long, narrow banner, pointed on the end, flying from its mast-top. I could not make out the design upon them.

  "It is a serpent—or perhaps a dragon," Torvald said, squinting.

  "It is a dragon, with its tail entwined around its body," Hastein told him. "The same design is on Arinbjorn's standard. His ships fly those pennants in these waters, so all will know they are being approached by his men."

  "Shall we lower our sail?" Torvald asked.

  Hastein shook his head. "We do not need to stop completely. We will reef it, though, and slow the Gull, so they can sail alongside us with ease."

  At Hastein's command we lowered the boom and shortened the sail, bunching the mid-section and tying it up with its reefing lines, then hauled the boom and the reefed sail fully aloft again. By the time we'd finished, one of the Mon ships had pulled along our steer-board side, less than an oar's length away, and was shortening its own sail to hold our pace, while the other had passed behind the Gull and was now sailing between her and the Serpent.

  I studied the closer ship as it sailed beside us. It was shorter in length than the Gull—upon close inspection, I could see it had but twelve pairs of oars. But I found another difference between it and our ship more notable. As was typical on a sailing voyage of any length, the Gull's deck, along her center line, was filled with such cargo as we carried: the barrels holding our rapidly diminishing supplies of provisions, a large cask situated in front of the mast filled with our store of fresh water, and the sea chests of our crew members, pushed out of the way into the center of the deck when not being used for seating or as rowing benches. By contrast, this ship clearly was fitted out only for patrolling through local waters. The empty space aboard her deck made possible by carrying no cargo or supplies allowed her to be manned by a crew far greater than a ship her size could normally bear on a sea voyage. There looked to be close to forty warriors aboard her, all fully armed. Several were holding strung bows, and most of the rest spears. These ships and the warriors aboard them were ready for battle, should the need arise.

  A tall warrior standing in her stern, wearing a brynie and helm with a nasal bar that obscured his features, called out to us. "These waters belong to the isle and folk of Mon. We guard them on behalf of the Jarl of Mon. If you would sail through these waters, you do so only by his leave."

  "And do we have leave of Jarl Arinbjorn to sail this way?" Hastein responded. I was surprised by his reply. I thought the other ship's captain had sounded arrogant and overbearing, and Hastein tended to be a proud man.

  "Who are you? Where are you from, and where are you bound?"

  "My name is Hastein. I am jarl over the lands around the Limfjord, in Jutland. We have sailed from those lands, and are bound for Mon, for I have business with Jarl Arinbjorn."

  "Your pardon, Jarl Hastein." The Mon captain's voice sound far more respectful now than when he had first spoken. "Your ship displays no banner, and I did not know to whom I spoke. Of course you are free to pass." He turned his head and spoke to his steers-man, and the ship began to veer away from us.

  "It is probably a good thing that when they wish to question the right of honest sailors to pass through these waters, they do so with two ships filled with armed men," Torvald muttered. "Otherwise, I suspect that many might wish to prove their right to pass with steel."

  Beyond the headland behind which the two guard ships had lain in wait stretched an enormous bay. In the very center of its long, curving shoreline, a short channel led to a nor in the middle of the island. A small fortress, with earthen walls topped by a wooden stockade, guarded the mouth of the channel, and three longships similar in size to the two that had challenged us were anchored near it, their prows against the sandy beach.

  The nor itself, though not nearly as large or long as that on which Hedeby was located, nevertheless was sizable. A village sprawled along its shore a short distance from the channel. I was surprised to see that no wall or ditch protected it, but perhaps the folk of the village felt the nearby fort and its garrison provided protection enough.

  Numerous small boats were pulled up along the shorefront of the village. Behind them, fishing nets had been hung out to dry across wooden frames. A strong smell of fish, mingled with smoke, hung in the air. The smoke was coming from a row of squat, windowless sheds beyond the nets.
/>   Torvald wrinkled his nose. "The problem with fishing villages," he said, "is that they always smell like fish."

  "Do not turn your nose up at the smell, or the fish," Hastein told him, as we rowed the Gull past the beached boats, heading for an area of the shoreline further down where a number of narrow piers jutted out from the shore. "We will be eating much of them in the days to come. Great schools of herring swim out in the bay. The folk here brine and smoke them, and pack them in barrels for trade. They keep well once smoked, and unlike salted pork, do not need to be boiled before they can be eaten."

  "Huh," Torvald grunted, noncommittally. He did not look convinced that smoked herring was preferable to dried, salted pork.

  "I am putting you in charge of provisioning the Gull," Hastein continued. He walked over to one of his two sea chests, lifted a leather sack from it, and counted out a handful of silver coins. He paused for a moment, then counted out some more. "This will be more than enough to buy what we need for both the Gull and the Serpent. Buy four barrels of smoked herring for each ship. Take Cullain with you, and let him select such vegetables as are available, and have them packed in straw, in barrels. And I want three more barrels of barley per ship, as well. Take Tore and some of the others with you, to help carry what you purchase back to the ships."

  "And ale?" Torvald asked hopefully. "If they have any to sell, shall I buy some casks of ale, also?"

  Hastein nodded, and counted out more coins.

  "Where will you be?" Torvald asked.

  "I go to meet with Jarl Arinbjorn," Hastein replied. "I will take Stig with me, and Halfdan, as well."

  I was surprised that Hastein chose me. My face must have showed it.

  "I have undertaken this voyage because I feel a need to bring Toke to justice," he explained. "He has killed too many folk in lands that are my responsibility to protect. And the warriors sailing with us who are from your brother Harald's estate"—I noticed he did not call it mine—"have reason to seek Toke's death, also. But this voyage for vengeance we are on—this hunt we have undertaken—is yours, more than anyone else's. So in any matters that concern our search for Toke, on this journey you are more than just one of my men."

  He looked at me, pursed his lips, and frowned. "You should put on a better tunic. A clean one, and clean trousers, too."

  I was wearing the gray woolen tunic Sigrid had made for me, what seemed now like so long ago. It was well-worn and somewhat stained, but was warm and comfortable. But though well-suited to wear on a sea voyage, apparently it would not do to meet with Jarl Arinbjorn. "You should wear your sword," Hastein said. He frowned again, studied me, then after a moment added, "And bring your bow, also."

  I felt puzzled by Hastein's detailed instructions as to what I should wear and what weapons I should bring, but went to my sea chest so I could fulfill them. I removed the trousers and tunic I'd been wearing, and replaced them with the green wool trousers and blue linen tunic which had been a gift from Hastein, before we had sailed for Frankia. He'd said at the time they were for me to wear on occasions such as at feasts or councils, so my appearance would reflect well on him. Apparently our meeting with Jarl Arinbjorn was such an occasion.

  I added the short leather boots that had once been Harald's—if the clothing I had been wearing looked too shabby, no doubt my worn, patched shoes did, also—and after I slung my sword's baldric over my shoulder, I draped my best cloak over my back, too, and used the silver ring brooch to secure it at my shoulder. The air was somewhat cool, and the tunic I had put on, though much finer looking than the one I had removed, was made of linen rather than wool, so it was not as warm. Last, I took the better of my two quivers from my sea chest, and pulled my bow from its sealskin case Gudrod had given me, then presented myself to Hastein.

  He, too, had put on finer clothes—the tunic he had changed into was made of brightly colored silk. Hastein was the only person I had ever seen to wear entire garments made of the rare and expensive fabric. He glanced at me briefly and nodded.

  The two black-haired brothers called the ravens were standing with him. "Bjorgolf and Bryngolf will be coming with us, also," he said. I wondered if their purpose—and to some extent mine, also—was to give Hastein a retinue of warriors when going to meet with another jarl. Their identical appearance certainly made them striking to see.

  By now the Gull and Serpent had been tied to either side of a narrow wooden pier that extended out into the brackish waters of the nor. As other members of the Gull's crew secured their oars and Torvald assembled the party who would assist him with the re-provisioning of the ships, I followed Hastein down the pier and into the village.

  Jarl Arinbjorn's estate was some distance away, at the end of a long, narrow finger of the nor. It was not overly far—from the village we could see the longhouse and outbuildings in the distance—but Hastein announced that he did not intend to walk there, that we would ride. For a time it appeared his desire to do so would be thwarted, for there was no one in the village who even possessed five horses, much less would have been willing to hire them out to total strangers. But fortunately the captain in charge of the nearby fort had walked the short distance over to the village with several of his men in order to determine who was aboard the two ships that had docked there. He was more than willing, after meeting Hastein and learning who he was, to loan us the necessary mounts.

  We had ridden but a short distance from the village when Hastein, who was riding in the lead with Stig beside him, turned in the saddle and motioned for me to come up and ride by his side. As I did, Stig dropped back and rode behind us, with Bjorgolf and Bryngolf.

  "There is another reason—besides Toke—that I wished you to come with me to meet Jarl Arinbjorn," he said. "And it is why I wished you to look more presentable.

  "I have been thinking," he continued, "about the estate in Jutland, the lands that were your father's, and your brother Harald's after him. You do have a lawful claim to them. No one else has a stronger one. It might be possible—I suppose—to work the lands successfully with only the slaves you freed, if they do not all run off. But it is a chieftain's estate. A man who holds such lands, if he wishes to keep them, must surely have some followers who are more than former thralls. He must have housecarls, warriors, who can fight to protect the estate and its folk, if necessary."

  I thought it ironic that Hastein was ignoring the fact that I was a freed slave, yet was capable of fighting, but I said nothing.

  "It is clear to me," he said. "To take that estate as your own, you must become a chieftain. The folk of the estate must accept that you are one. So you must learn how to act like a chieftain. In part you must learn how to command men, and how to make them wish to follow you. But there is more to it than that. You must conduct yourself in all things as if you believe you are as good as any man, and better than most. So I have decided—it is I who must teach you these things. There is no one else who can. You have no one else—your father and brother are both dead."

  I was speechless. This was totally unexpected.

  "Well?" Hastein asked. He clearly expected some response.

  "I…I do not know what to say." In truth, I was not at all certain this was something I wanted. When we had been at the estate, I had asserted that I had a claim of right to it. But Hastein was correct: it was a chieftain's estate. And I was not chieftain, and did not believe I could ever be. To the folk of that estate, I would surely always be just Hrorik's bastard son and a former slave. But I could not tell Hastein that—especially not now. "I thank you," I finally said.

  Hastein nodded his head, apparently taking my response as an acceptance of his plan. "I have said before that I believe the Norns have woven the threads of our fates together for a reason," he said. "I believe this may be part of it."

  I found the whole idea of fate, of some great pattern the Norns were weaving from the lives of all men, very confusing. And I could not imagine—could not believe—that my life could matter in any grand plan of the Norns.
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br />   "In truth," I said hesitantly, "I have never felt that my life was guided by the Norns. And I do not understand fate, or how my life could matter in any pattern the Norns are weaving."

  "Surely you do believe that the Norns exist, and that they are the weavers of fate?"

  I did not like to think about such things. I could not understand how three ancient sisters, sitting at the roots of the world-tree, could weave something, anything, out of the lives of men. How could the lives we lived be threads in their hands, to be woven on some great loom? But I did not wish to voice my doubts aloud. If the Norns did exist, if they truly were the weavers of fate and controlled the threads of all men's lives, I did not want to anger them.

  "Of course I do," I lied.

  "It is good that you believe," Hastein said. "Do not be concerned that you do not understand. You should not expect to be able to. That to the Norns, our lives are but threads to be woven, is a thing beyond the understanding of mere mortal men. It is not for us to comprehend—it is enough if we believe, and trust that our lives, and all that befalls us, is for a purpose, is part of a great plan that we cannot know." Hastein nodded his head. "It is good that you believe," he said again. "There are many men who are unable to believe what they cannot understand. Torvald is one. I do not think he believes in fate or the gods."

  "But why would my life be of any concern to the Norns? Why would they bother to have linked it to yours?"

  Hastein shrugged. "I do not know. But the Norns do everything with a purpose. And when I awoke this morning, I found myself wondering ‘What if it is part of the Norns' design that Halfdan become a chieftain? What if it is their wish that someday he will be a great leader of men?' It was then that I realized that if that is your destiny, if for some reason that is the plan the Norns have for your life, then I must help you achieve it. That must be part of my purpose."