The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga)

by Roberts, Judson

  Two large ship's tents had been pitched on either side of the log building. The only other structure in the camp was a small, strange looking tent that appeared to be made of animal skins sewn together and stretched around a frame of long wooden poles, which had been pitched close to the water's edge just inside the trees along one side of the clearing.

  No one was visible. The only sign of life was a small fire that burned in a ring of stones in front of the skin tent.

  "Where will the six be?" I whispered to Skjold. It was obvious that none of them were standing watch.

  "In the longhouse. When the full company was here, some of the men slept in the tent on the right, but with so few here now, they will all be in the longhouse. It is warmer and dryer there."

  Glancing again at the structure's roof, I wondered how true the latter was. "And the Oelanders' women-folk?"

  "They will be in the longhouse, too."

  Einar was crouched beside me. "What of the small tent, with the fire in front of it?" he asked Skjold.

  "That was the Finn's. He slept there."

  The Finn—the pirates' archer who had been so deadly. "He died two days past," I said. "That fire—if all are in the longhouse, who lit it?"

  Just then the flap that covered the opening into the skin tent was raised, and someone stepped out. It was a female, dressed in trousers and a long tunic. She was short and slight of build.

  "No doubt she lit it," Skjold responded. "She is the Finn's daughter."

  I gritted my teeth. "Is there anyone else you have not told us of who is in this camp?"

  Skjold looked alarmed by the angry tone he heard in my voice. "No," he said, shaking his head vigorously.

  "There is no smoke coming from the draft hole in the longhouse roof," Einar observed. "Those inside must still be sleeping."

  I sent Asbjorn back down the trail to tell Hastein the layout of the pirates' encampment and that they were as yet unaware of our presence. We were deep enough within the trees that there was no way the Finn girl, who had been crouching over her small fire, could have heard or seen anything, but when Asbjorn left she straightened up and stood motionless for a time, staring in our direction.

  "We must silence her," Einar whispered. "And quickly. Hastein and the others will be here soon. If she hears them approaching, she may warn those in the longhouse before we can surround the camp, and they may try to flee."

  Gudfred, who was crouching behind a tree on the other side of Skjold, slipped an arrow from his quiver and held it up. "If we all shoot at once…" he whispered.

  I shook my head. I had never killed a woman and did not wish to do so now.

  "Einar and I will move back deeper into the woods and circle around behind her. Watch for us. Once we are in position, we will come out of the trees and show ourselves to her. When we do, you and Hallbjorn should step into the clearing here, as well, so she will not run this way. Have arrows ready on your bows so she will see the danger you pose if she should try to flee, but do not shoot her. Einar and I will take her alive."

  As I spoke, the girl stepped away from the fire and ducked back inside the tent. "Now," I said to Einar, and we scurried back into the depths of the forest.

  Once we judged we were safely beyond hearing from the camp, we broke into a run, dodging through the trees as we circled the clearing. We would not have much time to do this. As Einar had said, Hastein and the others would reach the encampment soon.

  When we could see the glint of water in the cove through gaps between the trees, we knew we had gone far enough. The skin tent had been located close to the shoreline.

  "You move up along the shore, in the edge of the trees," I told Einar. "In case she tries to run that way." As he headed off, I began to creep forward, moving from tree to tree for cover, toward where I thought the tent should be. Soon I saw it, and silently crept closer. I crouched behind the trunk of a large oak tree, watching, but there was no sign of the Finn's daughter. Was she still inside the tent? If I could catch her there, she would have no chance to run away.

  I stood up and took two steps forward when I heard a sound like a quiet gasp, just off to my left. It was the girl. She must have come into the forest to search for firewood—she had a bundle of sticks under one arm, and held a small-axe in her other hand. The unexpected sight of her, so close, startled me almost as much as my sudden appearance must have startled her.

  "Shhh!" I said, raising my finger to my lips. "Make no sound." As I spoke the words, I realized that I did not know if she understood the common language of the north. When her father had first spoken, it had been in a tongue I did not recognize. Hopefully she, like he, also knew the common tongue.

  "This encampment is surrounded," I continued. It was untrue, for Hastein had not yet arrived. "We are here to capture the pirates, or to kill them if they resist, and to free the women they stole. You will not be harmed by us if you do as I say. Do not try to warn the others or flee."

  She took a tentative step toward the edge of the clearing, and I could see her looking this way and that among the trees around it. I realized she was looking for other warriors. She was trying to see if I had spoken the truth when I'd said the camp was surrounded. At least that meant she had understood what I'd said.

  Suddenly she stiffened, and turned toward where the trail entered the clearing, near where I'd left Gudfred, Hallbjorn, and Bram. Her hearing was far sharper than mine. It was several moments before I, too, heard what she had—the rhythmic sound of many feet, moving at a quick pace.

  Gudfred and Hallbjorn stepped out of cover, arrows laid across their bows. Gudfred was staring in my direction, toward the tent. I waved my arm back and forth to signal, but could not tell if he saw me, as I was still a ways back from the clearing among the trees.

  Hastein appeared, trotting down the trail with Torvald at his side. The rest of our men were behind him in a double column. They halted, still within the shelter of the forest, when he held up his hand. He spoke briefly with Hallbjorn, who pointed across the clearing toward the skin tent. Then he turned around, gave an order to those behind him, and the warriors from the Gull began moving into the clearing, forming a semicircle around the longhouse.

  The Finn girl—on closer examination, I saw that although short of stature, she was a young woman, not a child—stood for a few moments watching the growing ranks of warriors moving into the clearing. Then she glanced briefly at the forest behind her, and at me. She opened her arm and let the bundle of wood she'd collected drop to the ground.

  Do not run, I thought, for I could tell she was considering it.

  "Einar," I called.

  "Here," he replied. From the sound of his voice, he was not far away.

  "Come this way," I told him. "Quickly. The girl is here."

  "Do not try to flee," I told her again. "I will not harm you."

  I could hear Einar moving through the trees, headed in our direction. The girl looked toward the sound, fear showing now in her eyes. She glanced behind her again, toward the safety of the forest.

  I fumbled at the pouch on my belt, and pulled the small leather bag from it—the one her father had given me. Holding the end of its cord which I'd wrapped around it, I let it unroll, so that the bag dangled below my hand, where she could see it clearly.

  She stared at it, a stunned expression on her face, then looked up into my eyes. "How?" she asked. Like her father, she spoke with a heavy accent.

  "Your father gave this to me. He asked me to give it to you. I do not break my word. Do not try to flee. I promise you that you will not be harmed."

  Holding my arm out in front of me, the bag extended in offer, I moved toward her in slow, cautious steps. "Take it," I said. "You do not need to be afraid."

  When I drew near, she extended her own arm and closed her hand around the bag.

  "What is your name?" I asked.

  "Rauna," she replied.

  * * *

  There are many ways one can react to danger and misfortune. The m
easure of a man is often revealed by how he chooses to do so. The six pirates who found themselves suddenly stranded on the small island, the rest of their comrades all either slain or taken prisoner, had elected to drink themselves into a stupor.

  Einar and I walked across the clearing to where Hastein and Torvald were standing facing the closed door of the longhouse, the warriors from the Gull arrayed on either side of them in a line that curved around the front of the structure. Rauna followed us reluctantly, still clutching the small pouch from her father tightly in her hand. She had asked me how I had come to have it, and to have spoken with her father about her. I'd replied that I did not have time now to talk with her. As I'd hoped, her curiosity to learn more seemed to be stronger than her urge to flee.

  Hallbjorn, Gudfred and Asbjorn stood beside Hastein, their bows at the ready with arrows across them. The men from Oeland were gathered in a cluster a short distance behind them.

  Hastein glanced beyond me at Rauna as we approached.

  "Is she one of the Oelanders' women?" he asked.

  "No," I said, shaking my head. He frowned and stared at her more closely, then turned back toward the longhouse. Torvald studied her, too.

  "Is she a Finn?" he asked. I nodded. I suspected it was her clothing that told him what she was. Her tunic was distinctive, and similar to her father's: it was made of supple tanned animal skins, sewn together—from their thinness, probably deerskin—and was long, coming down to her knees, with a high collar around the neck opening. Unlike her father's, her tunic had decorative woven bands sewn around the cuffs of the sleeves, the neck opening, and the bottom edge. I had not known that such garb was typical of the Finns—in truth, before a few days ago I had never even heard of the Finns at all.

  "You inside the longhouse," Hastein shouted. "You are surrounded. Lay down your weapons and come out with your hands raised above your heads, where we can see them. Do not try to resist or we will kill you." To Hallbjorn and the others he murmured, "If any of them comes out carrying a weapon, you three kill him with your bows."

  We all waited, but nothing happened.

  Torvald tried next, in a voice that boomed out far louder than Hastein's had. "Inside the longhouse! Lay down your weapons! Come out. Come out now. You must surrender or you will die." Again nothing happened.

  I turned to Rauna. "There are six of them—six of the pirates, yes?" I asked her.

  She nodded.

  "Are they all inside the longhouse?"

  She nodded again.

  Torvald shook his head in disgust. "They are cowards. They are afraid to come out."

  Rauna shook her head, and spoke in a soft voice to me. "They are probably asleep. They have been drinking ever since the night of the big fight, out on the water," she said.

  Hastein turned to Bryngolf and Bjorgolf, who were standing to his right, amused looks on their faces. "Go beat on the door. Kick it in if you have to. Do whatever you must to wake them up and get them out here. Kill them if they resist."

  Handing their spears to Torvald, the black-haired twins walked to the longhouse door, drawing their swords as they did. Standing on either side of it, they nodded to each other, then Bryngolf—or it may have been Bjorgolf, for in truth I could not tell them apart—began hammering on the door with the heavy iron pommel of his sword.

  "Come out! Come out!" he shouted. "We have you surrounded." Then he and his brother raised their swords, holding them leveled at shoulder height ready to thrust, and crouched back against the wall on either side of the doorway.

  After a few moments, the door swung open and a man wearing only trousers staggered into view, blinking and squinting his eyes against the light. A sword dangled loosely from his right hand. Seeing it, both of the Ravens stabbed their blades into the hapless pirate's bare chest, then one of them reached forward, grabbed the dying man's hair, and slung his body out of the doorway onto the ground.

  "Bryngolf did not warn them they must come out unarmed," Torvald observed.

  "But I did," Hastein snapped. "And it was Bjorgolf who called to them, not Bryngolf."

  "Hmmn," Torvald responded. "Are you certain?"

  "No," Hastein admitted.

  The two brothers nodded again to each other, then lunged through the open doorway, one after the other. From inside, a woman began screaming, and then another. The men from Oeland looked alarmed. After a short time, the Ravens returned. Their swords were dripping with blood.

  "They are all dead," one told Hastein. "None of them surrendered."

  "It is a dangerous thing to get so drunk you cannot think," Torvald said.

  Hastein spoke to Nori. "Your men can go to their women now. There is no longer any danger."

  Nori turned to the men gathered behind him and said, "Go." As the Oelanders pushed past him and rushed into the longhouse, Hastein looked over at me.

  "Is she one of the pirates' women?" he asked, nodding toward Rauna.

  "She is the daughter of the archer aboard Sigvald's ship," I told him. "The one who was so skilled, who shot Tore and Hrodgar and the others."

  "Ah," Hastein replied. "You mean the Finn. The one you killed."

  Behind me, Rauna let out a gasp.

  Gudfred's jaw dropped and he shook his head in disbelief. "This is the Finn's daughter? And you have given her the neck pouch, as you promised you would?"

  "What promise?" Hastein demanded. "What are you speaking of?"

  "We found the Finn—the archer—dying on the deck of Sigvald's ship, when we were searching it and killing their wounded," Gudfred explained. "He asked whose arrow had felled him. When he learned it was Halfdan, he asked him to give a leather pouch he was wearing around his neck to his daughter. Halfdan agreed. I thought it a dangerous thing to do, to make a promise to a dying man that could not be kept. It is bad luck." He shook his head again. "But here is the daughter, and Halfdan has kept his promise. This is a strange thing, to be certain."

  "What was in the bag?" Hastein asked.

  I shrugged. "I do not know. I did not look."

  From inside the longhouse, a man's voice sounded in a wordless howl of rage and grief, then began sobbing, "Bera, Bera!"

  "That is Osten's voice," Nori said. "Bera is his wife. His second wife. They were wed this spring, only weeks before the pirates came. She is just fifteen—much younger than he. Osten lost his first wife, Ingunn, two years ago. She died during childbirth, as did the child."

  "From the sound of it, I fear he has lost his second wife, as well," Hastein said.

  * * *

  A search of the encampment revealed that the pirates' choice of the seas near Oeland as a hunting ground had proved profitable for them. One of the two ship's tents pitched beside the longhouse was filled with wares they had stolen from passing ships. There were bales of furs, bundles of tanned hides, the hair removed, three barrels filled with pots and bowls carved from soapstone, packed in straw, and another barrel containing whetstones. There were many casks of ale and wine, and—most valuable of all—a large wooden chest filled with walrus tusks, and a small one filled with chunks of amber.

  Hastein sent Torvald and most of our men back across the island to fetch the Gull and row her around to the pirates' sheltered cove, so our new-found treasure could be loaded aboard. Torvald's mood had improved considerably. "It seems this voyage may prove a profitable one after all," he said.

  A handful of us—myself, Einar, Gudfred, and the Ravens—had remained at the encampment with Hastein, to continue searching it. "Sigvald and his men must have robbed passing ships of silver, as well as these goods," Hastein said. "No doubt he has hidden it somewhere nearby—probably buried it." We questioned Skjold, but he claimed he had no knowledge of any buried treasure.

  The Oelanders and their women had also remained at the encampment, waiting there for the ship to come around. Most of the women looked harshly used, and some had fresh bruises on their faces and bodies. We learned that it was the two youngest of the nine stolen women who had died: Osten's wife, w
ho had been but fifteen years of age, and another man's daughter, even younger still. Both had been comely girls, according to Nori. Their youth and beauty had caused them to be the most frequently abused by the pirates. It had proved more than their hearts and bodies could stand.

  Rauna had retreated to her tent after she had heard Hastein and Gudfred speak of her father's death, and she had not come out since.

  "What do you intend to do with her?" Hastein asked me.

  The question caught me by surprise. "I? Nothing." Once the pirates had been slain she had ceased being a concern to me. In truth, I had given her no further thought at all, after we'd begun searching the encampment.

  "It is strange. Would you not agree?" he asked. "You and her father meet in battle, and you best him. Though you are an enemy and a stranger to him, before he dies he asks you to find his daughter and give her something. You agree, although you have no belief that you will ever do so. Then, just days later, you find her. I do wonder what was in the pouch. I wish you had looked."

  I suspected where Hastein was going with this. He saw the work of the Norns in it. I did not. He was wondering if the Norns had caused my path and that of the girl's to cross for some purpose. But no doubt the Finn had expected us to search for the pirates' encampment after the battle. He had known that if we did, we would find his daughter there. There was nothing more to it than that. It was not so strange, after all.

  I shrugged. "She is not my concern," I said.

  Hastein's gaze shifted to something behind me. "Ah," he replied. "Then it is also not your concern that the Oelanders appear to have plans for her."

  I turned to look where he was staring. Two men—Nori and Osten—were standing in front of Rauna's tent. As I watched, Osten lifted the flap that covered the entrance into it, and started to step inside. He hastily backed away and shouted angrily, then walked over to where Rauna had piled branches of various sizes beside her fire ring. Sifting through them, he selected a stout limb the length of a man's arm, and strode back to the front of the tent.

  I did not know the girl—she meant nothing at all to me—but I did not wish to see her beaten, or possibly even killed. I trotted across the clearing to the tent, Hastein following close behind.