The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga)

by Roberts, Judson

  11

  Birka

  When I next awakened we were at sea. At first, when I opened my eyes I could make out nothing. I did not know where I was, and for a moment feared I was blind. Then the gray fog that clouded my sight cleared, and above me, with an anxious look upon her face, I saw Rauna. Einar was beside her.

  "He wakes," he said, then stood and hurried away.

  A short time later Hastein appeared.

  "We were not certain whether you would return to this world or pass on to the next," he said. "Torvald wanted to leave you on Oeland with the rest of our wounded, so Cullain could care for you. But Einar and Gudfred persuaded me to bring you along. It would be a shame they said, if we do catch Toke, for you to not be with us. And the girl has been tending to you while you have been unconscious, such as needs to be done. After the attack, we could hardly leave her on Oeland, anyway."

  "Where am I?" I asked. My voice sounded like the dry croak of a raven. Hastein nodded to Rauna, and she placed her hand behind my head, raised it slightly, and held a cup to my lips. At the feel of the cool water washing over my parched throat, I closed my eyes and for a few moments thought of nothing else.

  "You are aboard the Gull," Hastein said, when I opened my eyes again. "We are sailing for Birka. We left Oeland yester-day, just after noon. We sailed through the night, for we have much time to make up."

  "What happened?" I asked. I could remember nothing beyond the look of victory on Serck's face.

  "It seems you saved the girl's life, and she saved yours," Hastein said. "The two men whose women the pirates killed—Osten and Serck were their names—attacked her. You killed Osten, but Serck struck you down. He hit you with an iron cook-pot. He was going to crush your skull with it, but Rauna slashed him across the back of his knees with a knife. He turned and swung the pot at her, but she backed away too fast and he missed. It threw him off balance—it is hard to stand when you have been hamstrung—and he fell. When he did, Rauna picked up a small-axe and split his skull with it. This girl has the heart of a warrior, for certain. Two of the sentries from our camp reached the tent just as he struck you down, and saw it all. It was over by the time the rest of us arrived from the feast. We had seen you leave in great haste, and followed. Nori told me what he had warned you of."

  "Ah," I said, "I see." Although in truth, that was an exaggeration. I closed my eyes, and drifted back into sleep.

  * * *

  The rest of the day I passed back and forth between sleep and groggy wakefulness several times. Rauna was always there whenever I opened my eyes. She said nothing, other than to ask me, "Water?" each time I awoke. I did not speak either. My mind felt too clouded to form words.

  Late in the day, I gradually became aware that the rhythm of the Gull's motion had changed. I opened my eyes and saw that her sail had been lowered, and we were moving under power of her oars.

  I felt more fully awake this time. I tried to sit up, but when I did, my head began spinning and I fell back. Rauna, who must have been nearby, appeared and knelt at my side. "Help me sit up," I told her.

  I had been laid on a pallet made of furs and coverings which I did not recognize, and my heaviest cloak had been draped over me to keep me warm, for my boots and clothes had been removed. We were in the stern, just aft of the two rear supports of the overhead rack for the oars and boom. Two of the poles from Rauna's tent had been lashed to the supports to form a simple frame, and my second cloak had been hung over them to protect me from the sun and weather.

  Behind me, stretching from the space underneath the oar rack just back of my pallet almost to the front of the ship, the center of the deck was filled with cargo: our own supplies of provisions, plus goods taken from the pirates' camp. After Rauna helped me sit up, with her assistance I eased myself back until I could lean against a bundle of furs at the end of the piled goods. Doing so left me feeling slightly breathless, and made my head pound with pain.

  Hastein was alone on the stern deck, manning the steer-board. From what I could see, the rest of the crew were all manning oars. Even so, the last pair in the stern was unmanned.

  Sitting up, I could just see over the rail. Off our steer-board side, not far away, the Serpent was moving even with us, also under oars. Torvald stood tall in her stern. Both ships were heading toward the shore. The Serpent's deck was, like that of the Gull, crowded with cargo. It looked as though some of our take from the pirates' store of stolen riches had been moved to her, to balance out the weight as much as possible between the two ships. Longships are not designed for carrying heavy loads of goods. The cargo they are made to carry is warriors.

  "Where are my clothes?" I asked.

  Rauna turned and pointed behind her. My sea chest had been moved from my rowing position to the end of the stacked cargo. "There," she said.

  I was so weak she had to help me dress, which greatly embarrassed me, and again, the effort left me breathless and made my head pound. Gudfred, who was rowing at an oar opposite my pallet, watched the entire process, which made it even more humiliating. When we had finished and Rauna had helped me lean back once again against the bundle of furs to rest, he said, "Do not try to do too much too soon. A hard blow to the head, such as you received, can be a tricky thing. I knew a man once who received such a blow and seemed fine after he had awakened from it, but three days later he suddenly died. You should rest. If the blow you received does not kill you, in time you will feel better."

  If his words were meant to encourage me, they did not.

  * * *

  After the bows of the two ships had been pulled up against a sandy beach so we could make camp for the night, Einar helped me ashore, my arm draped over his shoulders for support. Rauna brought one of the thick fur covers—it turned out they were hers—to provide a warm, dry pad for me to stretch out on, and Gudfred carried my sea chest ashore so I would have something to lean against.

  Hastein and Torvald came over while they were helping me settle myself, a short distance from where the cook-fire was being laid.

  "So you live," Torvald said. "I was not at all certain you would from the way you looked, and because we could not wake you up, even the next day. The skalds will be relieved," he added.

  Hastein frowned and looked at him. "What?" he asked.

  "The skalds," Torvald answered. "They have been spinning such fine tales about the mighty warrior Strongbow. It would not do at all for him to be killed with a cooking pot while drunk and fighting over a woman. It would have made an ignoble end to his story."

  I glared at him. If he had not encouraged me to drink so much at the feast, this might not have happened.

  Trying my best to ignore Torvald, I asked Hastein, "So we are sailing for Birka? What is your plan?"

  Hastein shrugged and grinned. "It is a simple one. We will sell the goods we seized at Sigvald's camp, and hopefully we will find Toke there, and kill him. And when we do, we will free your sister Sigrid, too."

  "Do you really think there is any hope?" I asked. "Is he not too many days ahead of us to still be there?"

  "Perhaps," Hastein admitted, "but perhaps not. Toke has gone to great trouble, and traveled a great distance, to take your sister to Birka in order to sell her there. Only in Birka will he be able to find slave traders who deal with the Araby kingdoms, where she will bring the highest price. His fortunes have taken a serious turn for the worse. Just weeks ago he was the master of a fine estate in Jutland, and numbered the folk and warriors there as his own. Now he is on the run with just a handful of men. I think the profit he hopes your sister will bring is of much importance to him."

  I did not see how any of that changed the fact that Toke would have reached Birka days before we would arrive there. "But he will have had more than enough time to have sold her and be gone," I said.

  "Perhaps," Hastein said again, "but perhaps not. The type of slave traders Toke seeks, the kind he needs who will pay him the price he wants, are not always present in Birka. They are traveling merchants. I
think he will in wait in Birka, if need be, to get the best possible price for your sister. If luck is with us, Toke will still be in Birka, waiting for a slaver to arrive, when we reach it."

  "And if he is not?"

  Hastein shrugged. "Then we will sell our goods, return to Oeland to pick up our wounded, and sail back to Jutland. Our hunt will be a longer one. Winter approaches, and the voyage to Ireland, where Toke is bound, is not an easy one, even in good weather. We will take up the pursuit again in the spring."

  As I pondered Hastein's words, I suddenly remembered my sword. We were halfway to Birka, and it was lying on the side of the ridge back on Oeland.

  "What is it?" Hastein asked, staring at the expression on my face.

  "My sword," I answered. "I lost in when I fell, running to reach Rauna's tent after I heard her screaming."

  "It is in your sea chest," Hastein said. "We realized the next morning, as we were loading you aboard the Gull, that it was missing. Einar searched back along the path you had traveled and found it."

  I took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh of relief.

  Hastein stood staring at me silently for a few moments. "There is a thing you should give some thought to," he finally said. "This is the second time that drinking too much ale has almost cost you your life." Then he turned and walked away.

  Hastein's words stung. I knew what he was referring to—the time in Ruda when Snorre had first arrived at the town. I had barely escaped being gutted by him in a brawl. On that occasion, too, I had been drinking with Torvald.

  A feeling of despair filled my heart. We had been so close to catching Toke. But I did not believe we would find him in Birka. I did not believe we would be in time to rescue Sigrid. I did not feel that luck was with us on this voyage.

  * * *

  Rauna had been setting up her tent near where I was sitting while Torvald and Hastein had been speaking with me. That was a thing that had changed about her. On Oeland, she had hidden herself away as much as possible, and had tried, except when absolutely necessary, to avoid me. Now she was never far away. Perhaps it was because I was so weak, and she felt indebted to me for trying to stop Osten and Serck's attack. Or perhaps she was merely frightened to be alone after the attack—or perhaps it was a bit of both.

  Later that evening, after the night meal had been prepared—a simple stew made of barley and vegetables—she brought two bowls full from the cook-fire. Handing me one, she sat down beside me with the other.

  We ate in silence. I found that I felt ravenous, for it had been two days since I had last eaten. I quickly emptied my bowl, and at my request, Rauna returned to the cook-fire and filled it again. But when I began to eat it, my stomach suddenly felt ill. I should not have eaten so much so fast, after having gone so long with no food at all.

  After several spoonfuls, I set the bowl down on the ground beside me, and leaned back to rest. "I will finish this later," I said.

  "Who is this man Toke that your leader spoke of?" Rauna suddenly asked. "You and your people are chasing him, yes?"

  I nodded. "He is a very bad man," I said. "He killed my brother and many others. I have sworn to avenge them."

  "And he has stolen your sister, too?"

  I nodded again. "Our father was a chieftain. She is high born, but he intends to sell her as a slave."

  She sat staring at me, but said nothing more. I wondered what she was thinking. If, as Hastein said, her people—the Finns—were a peaceful folk, what must she think of us?

  "I am in your debt," I told her, breaking the silence.

  She frowned. "For what reason?"

  "For my life. Serck would have killed me but for you. I consider that not a small thing."

  "I did not act to save you," she said. "I was afraid for myself. I know what your kind can do to the women of my people. I have seen it. There are many bad men among your people."

  After what Osten and Serck had tried to do, I did not blame her for thinking so. But she should not blame an entire folk for the acts of a few bad men. "I am in your debt," I said again. "I will not forget it. I will do all I can to help you return to your own people. In Birka we will find someone to help you."

  As had happened that night on Oeland, at my mention of Birka her face took on a look of fear, and she began trembling.

  "What is it?" I asked her. "What about Birka causes you fear? What happened there?"

  "Do not leave me in Birka," she pleaded. "There is no one there who will help me. It is an evil place, full of evil men."

  "I will not leave you in danger," I told her. "I promise you that. But you must tell me what it is you fear."

  She said nothing, but sat wringing her hands and rocking back and forth.

  "Rauna," I said, in a softer voice, "How did you and your father come to be a part of Sigvald's company? Was it in Birka? What happened there? I wish to help you, but I cannot if I do not know these things."

  She was silent so long I did not think she was going to answer. But finally, she took a deep breath, raised her head and looked into my face, and told me the tale.

  "For many years, a man—one of your people—would come to our lands to trade with my people," she began.

  This surprised me. I had understood that the Finns lived deep in the hinterlands of Svealand and Gotarland. "Do you mean he was a Dane?" I asked, interrupting her.

  She frowned. "What is a Dane?"

  "I am a Dane. My people are Danes. We live in lands far to the west of here." It was clear she did not understand. "These are the peoples of the northlands," I told her. "Here, where we are now, is Svealand—the kingdom of the Sveas. These lands are theirs."

  "No one can own the land," she protested.

  Ignoring her, I continued. "West of here are the lands of the Gotars, and to the west of their kingdoms are the lands of the Danes. Beyond the Danes, across the Jutland Sea to the north, are the Norse."

  She shook her head. "Do you not all speak the same tongue?"

  I nodded. "Yes, the common tongue of the north. What you and I are speaking now."

  "And you all dress in iron, and carry many weapons, and fight, and kill. All of these peoples you speak of, they are all the same. They are all the others. I ," she said, tapping her chest for emphasis, "am one of the people—I am Samit. You are one of the others."

  This was going nowhere. She knew too little of the world to understand. "Continue your tale," I told her.

  "The man who came each year to trade—his name was Barne—wanted furs. For them, he gave us knives, and axes, and brightly-colored cloth and beads, and other things we did not have. He was a good man. He was not evil. He taught my father, and others among our people who wished to learn it, to speak your tongue. He tried to persuade us to follow his god—he believed there was only one, which is a very foolish thing.

  "Several times, he took my father with him back to Birka, where he had come from, with many furs to trade there."

  "Ah," I said, "then this Barne was a Svear merchant."

  Ignoring me, she continued. "When my father would return, he always had many, many goods for our people. He said Barne had taught him much about the ways of the others, and their beliefs.

  "Last winter, Barne did not come. Instead, a great band of the others came to our lands. They did not come to trade. They had many weapons, and they came to rob and to kill. All who could fled deep into the forests to escape them, but many were slain, and others were taken away and never seen again. Our villages were burned, and our goods were stolen."

  She was as slow at telling a tale as Einar. I wondered how late in the night it would be before we got to Sigvald.

  "In the spring, after the raiders had gone and our people had gathered together once again, our noaidi searched the other side for Barne, and found him there. He had died—he, too, had been killed by the raiders, and his spirit had left this side of the world."

  Now I did not understand. "What is a noaidi?" I asked, struggling to pronounce the strange word. It was clear
ly of her people's language, not of the common tongue.

  "A noaidi is a spirit traveler. His spirit can leave his body and travel to the other side, and return. It gives him great power and knowledge, to be able to see the world from both sides. Are there no noaidis among your people?"

  I shook my head. She seemed surprised.

  "What happened when your people learned Barne was dead?" I asked.

  "There was much talk about what we should do. No one believed that the raiders would never come back again. Some said that we should leave, and seek new lands to live upon. But others said our people had hunted and fished these lands since time began, and our spirits, and those of our fathers and their fathers before them were bound to these lands. If we left them, when we died our spirits would be lost.

  "My father said we should go to Birka, and ask the help of the others who lived there. He said when Barne had taken him to Birka, he had told him the people there had rules they lived by. If a person broke the rules and harmed another, the one who was harmed could go to a meeting of all their peoples, and ask that the wrong be made right. He said Barne had taken him to meet with the leader of the others in Birka who presided over such meetings when they were held. My father said he was a good man, like Barne was. My father told our people he would make the journey to Birka himself, and ask the leader there to help us against the evil men who had attacked us. We would take a fine gift—a bundle of the richest winter pelts of foxes and martens—to give to the leader of Birka. All of our people gave of their best furs for the gift."

  This was a strange tale, to be sure. How would it lead to Sigvald? I wondered.

  "Because the journey was so long, my mother, brother, and I traveled with my father, so he would not be alone. After many days, we reached the shores of a great lake. Birka, my father explained, was on an island out in the center of the lake. We would camp there, on the shore, and wait for a boat to pass by. My father said that was what he and Barne had done, and when a boat came, we would pay for passage to the island.

  "After three days, a boat did come. There were five men in it. They were fishing. My father told them his story—why we had come to Birka—and asked them to carry us there. The men said their boat had room for only one more. So my father took the bundle of furs and went with them, and told us to wait until he returned.