The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga)

by Roberts, Judson

  "And that was what happened?" I asked. "The pirates pursued you, you surrendered the Sea Steed to them, and then you joined them?"

  "I am surprised they did not just kill you," Gudfred said.

  "It was a near thing at first," Skjold admitted. "But Toke had given us a plan. He told us we should ask to see the pirates' chieftain. He said we should tell him that we knew of a very valuable prize that would be coming his way soon. We were to offer to tell the chieftain all we knew of the prize, if he allowed us to join with his band and share in the taking of it. Sigvald agreed."

  "What was the prize?" Einar asked. But I already knew.

  "It was you," Skjold answered. "All of you. We told Sigvald that a ship would be sailing this way that had just returned from the war in Frankia. We told him of the great ransom that the King of the Franks had paid, and said that the sea chests of every man aboard the ship would be filled with silver."

  Toke had not known for certain that we would pursue him. What if we had not? It had been a near thing. Would Sigvald have eventually killed Toke's five men when no rich prize appeared? Did Toke care about the danger he'd placed them in?

  "Where is Toke bound?" I asked.

  "To Birka. He plans to sell the woman in the slave market there. He said she will bring a very high price from the right buyer."

  "The woman has a name," I snapped. "It is Sigrid. And she is not a slave to be bought and sold. She is of high birth. She is my sister. Your chieftain, Toke, is her foster brother. A man who would so betray another—a woman, a member of his own family—is not worthy to be called a man," I added angrily, using Skjold's own words. He flinched and hung his head, glancing up at me nervously like a dog that has been kicked. After a few moments, I continued. "You yourself lived in her household for many months, yet helped betray her. You are no man. You have no honor. You are a Nithing. One gives a gift to all true men by killing such as you."

  I reached behind my back and grasped the handle of my small-axe. I intended to bury its blade in this foul creature's head. But Gudfred reached out and placed his hand over mine, preventing me from drawing the axe from my belt.

  "Do not," he said. "Not this way. Not now. You must honor the promise that Jarl Hastein gave these men."

  Reluctantly I withdrew my hand from my weapon. But staring at Skjold, looking into his eyes, I made a promise to myself. Somehow, I thought, I will see you die.

  "My sister—Sigrid," I said. "Has she been harmed?"

  Skjold shook his head. "Toke would allow no one to touch her. He said that there are buyers, slave traders who sell to the Araby kingdoms far in the south, who will pay dearly for beautiful women who have never known a man. The kings and lords there place a high value on the taking of a virgin, especially those of great beauty, with hair the color of gold, or red like fire."

  Einar turned his head and spat upon the deck in disgust.

  "You should know," Skjold added, "that most of us did not realize what Toke intended to do, before it happened. Most of us were readying the ships to sail when he picked fifteen men, told them to arm themselves, and went up to the longhouse with them. I was among those who were left down at the ships. Then Toke and the others came back at a run, and there was fighting. We cast off as soon as he was aboard. It was done before many of us even knew he had taken the wo…had taken your sister."

  "But after? None spoke against it?" Gudfred asked.

  Skjold looked away. "Not to Toke. There were some of us who thought it was bad thing, who were worried about what Toke had done. I was among them. But no one spoke against it to Toke."

  Skjold looked up at me. "Toke has a very great hatred of your family. Of your father, your brother, of you. He would not have listened, had anyone spoken up. It would just have made him angry. He did not take your sister only for the price she will bring when he sells her, although he believes she will prove to be a very rich prize. He took her to dishonor you, all of you—even your kin who are already dead. He thinks that if she becomes a slave, whose master uses her for his pleasure as he wishes, it would shame all of you. And he said you, more than anyone else, will know how she will suffer."

  "After Birka," Einar said. "Where will Toke be bound?"

  It was a good question—one I should have thought to ask. I could not afford to let my anger and distress at what Skjold had told us cloud my thoughts.

  "To Ireland," Skjold answered. "Toke has allies there."

  Just then Bram came trotting down the deck from the bow. "There is a boat that has put out from the island," he said. "It is approaching the Gull." He glanced briefly down at Skjold, then stared longer, studying his face carefully, and added, surprise in his voice, "I know you."

  "A ship?" Gudfred asked.

  Bram shook his head. "A small-boat. There look to be maybe four or five men aboard it. They are waving a white flag."

  * * *

  It proved that the folk of Oeland were not our foes. The pirates had not been their allies. Rather, they had oppressed them cruelly. The men who had ventured out to the Gull in the small-boat assured Hastein we would be warmly welcomed on Oeland, and offered to lead the way to a sheltered anchorage further down the island.

  By the time we reached the small cove which was our destination, a crowd of the islanders had already gathered there to greet us. Dusk was falling, but they had built bonfires on the shore, and had brought food—simple fare that could be carried easily: bread, sausages, and cheese, and most welcome of all, several small casks of ale—to share with us.

  "On the morrow we will prepare a proper feast, and give thanks to you and to the gods, who sent you in answer to our prayers," a white-haired islander named Nori told Hastein. He was a godi—a priest—and the headman of one of the small villages that were scattered across the island. Turning to face the crowd of islanders arrayed behind him, in a loud voice he cried, "Away now! We must all away, and leave these brave men to rest in peace this night. They must tend to their wounded and their dead, and no doubt they are weary after their labors this day. Let us away, and in the morning we will gather at the old fort north of here and prepare for an offering and a feast." To Hastein he said, before he walked off into the darkness, "I will return in the morning."

  In truth, we were weary. My steps dragged as though I had sacks of stones tied to my feet.

  The cove's shoreline was shallow and sandy, so we had pulled the bows of the three ships up onto the beach, the captured ship in between the Gull and the Serpent. Those in the two crews who were badly wounded—there were ten in all—were carried ashore and a simple open tent for them was rigged facing the fires so they could be kept warm, and so Cullain could have light by which to dress their wounds. Because Cullain was busy tending to the wounded, each of us made a cold and simple night's meal for himself from the food brought by the islanders. The decks of the Gull and the Serpent were tented to provide shelter for the rest of us who were not wounded, and many made their way there to seek sleep as soon as they had eaten.

  Hastein and Torvald posted sentries in the bow and stern of each ship, plus two to keep the prisoners under close guard, and arranged for them to be relieved at regular intervals throughout the night. "We are all weary," Hastein said. "None of us will find it easy to stay awake for long hours this night. But we must not let our guard down. The folk of Oeland have shown a friendly face to us thus far, but smiles sometimes hide treacherous intent."

  After eating the light fare and washing it down with a cup of ale, I made my way toward the shelter where the wounded were arrayed, intending to look for Tore. But before I reached it, I came upon the bodies of our dead, which had been lined up off to one side of the tent. Though we had fared far better in the battle than the pirates had, our losses had been dear. Twelve of our company—eight from the Gull, including Hrodgar, and four from the Serpent—lay lifeless on the ground.

  Four torches had been stuck in the sand at regular intervals along the line of bodies, and by their dim light men were tending to their falle
n comrades, stripping off their clothes and armor, stiff and stained with blood, washing their bodies, and combing their hair and beards. Bram was there. The men from the village had sustained heavy losses. Bram's comrade Skuli and another man from the village named Kari, who had also sailed with us on the Gull, had been slain in the same fight that had taken Hrodgar's life, and a third villager, who had sailed aboard the Serpent, had been killed during the final fight against Sigvald's ship. Hroald, the village headman, was helping Bram clean their bodies.

  Beyond them, a group of men was kneeling over the bodies of three men. As I passed them, one looked up and called my name. It was Gudfred. He stood and stepped across the body he'd been helping remove a tunic from.

  "We lost three of our men," he said, "and another is badly wounded."

  Our men. It was the second time Gudfred had said that to me, speaking of the carls from the estate.

  "Who are the dead?" I asked.

  "Grimar, Hemming, and Baug."

  Before this voyage, I could not have put names to the faces of either Grimar or Hemming. They were little more than strangers to me. Baug I knew, though only slightly. He and his brother Floki—who had confronted me in the hayfield—had been close comrades to my brother Harald, and they had assisted with my training when we had practiced fighting in a shield wall.

  If the estate was mine, as I had so brashly claimed, then the deaths of these men should matter to me. But I felt nothing.

  "Can I assist you with their bodies?" I asked.

  One of the kneeling men turned toward me and snapped, "No! We are their comrades. This is for us to do."

  "Floki!" Gudfred said sharply, scowling at him. Turning back to me, he murmured, "His heart is heavy with grief."

  "I lost my brother, too," I said, and looked away. "I understand. If you do not need my help, I will leave you now."

  At the end of the row of bodies, Einar was trying to ease Hrodgar's brynie up over his shoulders. He was struggling with the task, for the death stiffness had begun to set in, plus the wound to Hrodgar's neck was so great that his head flopped about loosely whenever his body was raised.

  "Let me help you," I said, and knelt across the body from him. "He was a good and brave man, and a friend to me."

  * * *

  None of our wounded died during the night, although from the looks of his pale visage and sunken cheeks, whether Stig—the most badly hurt—would survive was in the hands of the Norns. He still had not awakened, but that was not altogether a bad thing. Because he could not stop the wound's bleeding, Cullain had been forced during the night to cut off Stig's right hand above his shattered wrist, to create a new, clean wound that could be cauterized to stop the bleeding.

  When I visited the wounded men's tent in the morning, Tore was awake, although he, too, looked very pale, and he was so weak that after we spoke briefly—he insisted I relate to him in detail how the battle had progressed, after he'd been wounded—he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

  With the assistance of Regin, Torvald had taken it upon himself to see that a hot meal was cooked to break the night's fast. It was simple fare—boiled barley porridge—but filling, and each man was allowed to eat as much as he desired. I savored each mouthful of the nutty tasting, chewy mush, and thought that seldom had I enjoyed so satisfying a meal.

  Hastein had been wandering the decks of all three ships and the beach, making a point of talking to each of our men. Eventually he made his way to where I was sitting, lazily enjoying the feeling of having a full belly and nothing to do.

  "You did well in the battle yesterday," he told me. "I have heard of your deeds from more than one of our men."

  I felt pleased and proud at Hastein's words, and also surprised—though pleasantly so—that others had taken the trouble to speak of me to him.

  "Our attack across the bows onto Sigvald's ship would likely have failed but for the effect of your men's arrow fire. I had wondered why it took so long for the archers to support the attack, until I spoke with some of them this morning. Sigvald's archer—the Finn—came close to changing the outcome of the battle. No doubt your duel with him will find its way into the tales that seem to be growing about Strongbow."

  Now I felt embarrassed. But it did not escape me that Hastein had called the archers my men.

  "Gudfred—he seems a good man—told me that you also led the attack that cleared one of the pirates' ships. He said you fought like a man possessed by a berserker's fury. He claims he saw swords hit you but they did not cut, and he said he had never seen a blade strike with such swiftness as did yours. He said you left a trail of dead behind you as you cut your way from the bow to the stern of the pirates' ship."

  I had no memory of swords striking me—in truth, I still could not recall the boarding of the ship and the fight that followed at all. But I did have several long bruises across my shoulders and back, and felt very stiff and sore from them.

  "The warrior he described…. I know you to be very skilled with your bow, but in truth, I would not have known the man he described to be you," Hastein added.

  In truth, I would not have either.

  "If swords did not cut me, I am certain there was no magic to it," I told him. "The Frankish mail of which my brynie is made, and the thick jerkin I wear beneath it, no doubt are what saved me from harm."

  "Hmm," Hastein replied. "You are, of course, now the captain of my archers. I fear it will be some time before Tore is fit to fight again."

  "I thank you," I said. Hastein had once before asked me to command his archers. This time I did not protest.

  "Now we must speak of a matter about which I am not pleased. I have learned that you and Einar killed one of the prisoners. I gave them my word that they would not be harmed if they surrendered."

  I wondered if Gudfred had told Hastein of the incident. He had looked shocked by my actions. "Did you know that it was one of Toke's men?" I asked.

  Hastein looked surprised. "I did not."

  It was not Gudfred, then. That was a fact he would not have omitted.

  "One of the pirates' longships—the one that grappled the Serpent's bow, and was tied alongside Sigvald's—was the Sea Steed. It was one of Toke's two ships that we have been pursuing. It was the ship that Snorre sailed to Frankia."

  "How did the pirates come to possess it?" Hastein asked.

  "That was what I was trying to discover. Gudfred recognized two of Toke's men among the pirates who had surrendered. I was attempting to question one of them—he had been in Frankia, with Snorre—but he refused to talk. He said I could not harm him, because you had promised their safety if they surrendered. He said he would only tell me what I wished to know if I set him free."

  "Which you could not do," Hastein said. "Not without my permission."

  I shook my head. "Which I would not do. I swore an oath to slay all of the men who helped Toke kill my brother Harald and the others, up on the Limfjord."

  "Hmm," Hastein murmured. "But by killing him you broke my promise, which I had given."

  I shook my head again. "You promised the pirates that if they surrendered, neither you nor your men would kill them. Those were your words. I did not kill Toke's man. He asked to be set free, so I put him over the side. It happened that he could not swim. He drowned. I did not kill him. The sea did."

  Hastein stared at me in silence for a long time, his face expressionless. Eventually I realized that he was struggling to keep a smile from showing. "If you made that argument before the lawgiver at a Thing," he finally said, "if a lawsuit had been brought against you over this man's death, I have grave doubts that it would keep you from being ordered to pay wergild. But it is a clever argument, nonetheless. I must remember it." Now he did smile, and shook his head. "You did not kill him; the sea did. And after the sea took his comrade, did the other of Toke's men talk?"

  I nodded. "He did," I answered, and related what Skjold had told me. By the time I finished, Hastein's face had taken a look of cold anger.

/>   "Toke is not a foe to be taken lightly," he said. "It was a clever move in this game we are playing to set the pirates upon us. He did not even know for certain that he was being pursued. He gambled a ship on the possibility that we were following him, and on the chance that he could use the pirates to strike at us. It was a gamble that he won. But he may come to regret it. Before, I hunted him solely for the wrong he had done to you and your folk, and for the niddingsvaark of killing the women and children in the attack up on the Limfjord, after their safety had been promised. I wished to see him brought to justice, but in truth, I was not willing to continue pursuing him indefinitely. Now it is a personal thing for me, as well as for you. I have lost good men to Toke's treachery. I will see their deaths avenged."

  He shook his head slowly, and sighed. "But I fear that now we may have lost the advantage of greater numbers we held before. If we meet Toke now—if we are able to catch him—it will be a much more even fight."

  The long peal of a horn sounded a warning note. With the coming of daylight, Hastein had moved the sentries inland from the ships, to form a perimeter around our camp.

  "Jarl Hastein," one of the sentries called, "men are approaching."

  Eight riders made their way down the side of the distant ridge and crossed the gently sloping grassy fields that lay between it and the beach. Nori, the headman who had acted as spokesman for the Oelanders the night before, was in their lead.

  Hastein and I walked over to the fire Torvald and Regin had built in front of the tent for the wounded. Besides Torvald, Gudfred and Einar were among the men gathered there. We arrayed ourselves behind Hastein as he stepped forward to meet the islanders.

  "Greetings," Nori said, as he dismounted. "I hope you and your men passed a peaceful night." He glanced at the open-fronted tent and the wounded men lying inside, then beyond to the row of bodies, now draped with a tent awning taken from the captured ship to protect them from the birds. Several crows had already passed low overhead since daybreak, no doubt attracted by the smell of death.