Northern Lights Trilogy

by Lisa Tawn Bergren

  As Elsa dropped her gaze in embarrassment when Karl did not look away, Peder cleared his throat. For an instant, he thought he saw a guilty look cross Karl’s face as he glanced up at him, but immediately dismissed the idea. He knew Karl had always had a mild crush on Elsa. What man in Bergen who knew her had not? But Karl was Peder’s best friend. He knew his bounds.

  “We need to review our supplies,” Peder said to Karl and Kristoffer, returning to the conversation at hand. “I want to know before we near Scotland if there has been any oversight in planning.”

  “Why not review them right now?” Kristoffer asked.

  “It could take us hours,” Karl said.

  “Let’s go and get it done,” Peder said with authority. “Kristoffer, I want you to take the helm and see out the port watch. We’re near the shoals that we’ve been studying.”

  “Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Kristoffer said with a curt nod, then turned to Elsa. “If you wouldn’t mind … if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” he said with a hesitant smile, “could you look in on Astrid tonight? I think she and Kaatje would welcome a woman’s touch.”

  “Certainly, Kristoffer. I meant to get there all afternoon, but your boy kept me busy.”

  “I appreciate you looking after Knut,” Kristoffer said, clearly unsettled at having to rely on others. “I know he is not the easiest child.”

  “Not at all. I love being around little gutts. They’re not much different from you big boys, you know.”

  The three men laughed, and Karl and Kristoffer said good night to her as they left the cabin. Peder stayed back to give her a quick kiss.

  “I will not be long,” he whispered.

  “Hurry back,” she responded, giving him a meaningful glance.

  He raised one eyebrow at her and followed his men out the door.

  Out on deck, Karl took a deep breath, appreciating the fresh breeze on his face. These dinners in the captain’s quarters with Elsa were bound to get more and more difficult. Perhaps he would suggest to Peder that the captain should entertain other passengers on a rotating schedule, making them all feel welcome. He sighed in relief. Yes, that would certainly be an idea that Peder would find appealing and would rescue Karl from such close proximity to Elsa.

  It was a beautiful summer night on the sea, and several of the passengers were strolling around the deck, studiously keeping away from the rigging as instructed. There was nothing more irritating to sailors than landlubbers underfoot.

  Karl nodded to two sailors, and the men immediately hurried over to join him. Without a word, just a look that would soon earn Karl his own captain’s position, they unhooked the cargo hold doors and, with a heave-ho! pulled open first one mammoth door and then the other. Another sailor hurried over with a kerosene lamp, and Peder and Karl carefully stepped down the stairs. They had just reached the hull floor when Karl was sure he heard a muffled sneeze.

  “Did you hear—” he began.

  Peder held up his hand to still Karl’s voice, obviously listening with a straining ear. But with the noise of the waves against the hull, the animal sounds below, and the wind in the sails above deck, it was difficult to hear anything else. After a moment, Peder shrugged, and they moved to the port side to review foodstuff supply inventories. In the dark, even with the help of four lanterns, it was a difficult, tedious process.

  “Perhaps we should have waited until the morning,” Peder finally said with a sigh. Karl could almost see that he was thinking about Elsa waiting for him in the captain’s cabin.

  “Perhaps,” Karl said noncommittally.

  It was then that they heard another muffled sneeze, and Peder whipped around to look at his first mate. Karl nodded.

  “That is it, then,” Peder said, a little louder than was necessary. “Let’s give it up until we have some natural light to aid the process.”

  “Aye, aye,” Karl said. They clambered up the steps, stomping loudly so that the stowaway would hear them. But just before they reached the top, Karl suddenly sat down with darkened lamp and flint in hand, and understanding immediately, Peder said, “Come, Karl, join me in my quarters. I believe something interesting has transpired, and I wish to fill you in.”

  Obeying Karl’s silent gesture, the confused sailors on deck closed the heavy hatch doors above their first mate. As they were securing the bulky iron fasteners, Karl stealthily crept down to the bottom deck. He sat there for an hour in the darkness before he heard any more stirring. It was larger than a rat, to be sure, and too far from the stalls to be an animal. The Herald definitely had a stowaway. Who? He was wary, to be sure, and Karl wondered if the stowaway had a light source. If not, his night might be spent observing an eye-draining dance of shadows.

  He heard movement again, and his scalp tingled in anticipation. The stowaway was making his way somewhere when he ran into something heavy. At the sound of the soft cry and mumbled swear words, Karl’s eyes widened in surprise. It was a woman! Sure enough, she lit a candle and bent to take off her slipper and examine her wounded toes. With her back to him in the dim light, it was difficult to see who it was. But she was small and shapely, and Karl was mesmerized by the whole scene playing out before him.

  Peder would have her hide. Two days out, and with no time to lose, they could not return her to Bergen. She slipped on her shoe and turned toward him. His breath caught. Tora! Make that two people who would have her hide, he mused.

  Casually, he flicked the flint and spark met wick. As the flame caught and grew, so did the lamplight’s reach. Below him, Tora froze. Karl raised one eyebrow. “I don’t believe we have you on the manifest as part of our cargo, Miss Anders. Would you care to greet the captain and explain why you are down here among the chickens?” He rose and stepped down to her side.

  Tora closed her mouth, lifted her chin, and stared into his eyes with a calm expression plastered on her face. Karl chuckled under his breath. She was a vixen, this one. She used her eyes with more power than any woman he had ever seen—and she was all of sixteen.

  “I assume, since you have nothing better to do than sit there preying on innocent women, that I’d be better off with my brother-in-law?”

  Her look was clear, and Karl found himself doing a double take. The shape and depth of her eyes so resembled Elsa’s that for a moment he fancied himself looking at her sister. He gave her a laugh devoid of cheer. “It is you that the world has to watch out for, Miss Anders,” he said, “for I’m afraid it is you who preys on the innocent.”

  She shook her head as if dealing with a fool, picked up her skirts, made her way to the stairs, and climbed them. “Summon your sailors, first mate. I have no more time for idle banter with you. We might as well get this over with … unless …” she turned to him, her look beguiling. But she was no more than a child learning to use a woman’s body.

  Disgusted, he stood, climbed the stairs past her, and banged on the doors above them. “You were brought up to be better than this,” he said.

  The doors opened, and Tora whisked upward, ignoring the dumbfounded sailors’ gazes. She turned briefly to Karl as he took her arm and headed her toward Peder’s cabin. “Do not presume to lecture me again, Mr. Martensen. Although you are right on one count: I was born for better. And I shall have it in America.”

  The few remaining passengers above deck stopped to gawk as Karl knocked loudly on Peder’s door. “Captain, I found our visitor.”

  Peder opened the door with a grim expression on his face. Seeing Tora at Karl’s side, his expression grew decidedly more angry. Karl felt Tora shrink at his side, leaning slightly into him as if her strength waned. He resisted the feeling of protection rising in his chest. Were all men such saps that young women could twist their hearts with a small movement?

  “Come in,” Peder ground out through clenched teeth.

  They entered the cozy three-roomed cabin that was not as luxurious as the prosperous captain’s quarters many ships boasted, but still attractive. The sitting room had paneled walls, gas lightin
g, bookshelves, two upholstered chairs, a love seat, and a potbellied stove. To the right was the attached dining room for six, and to the left, behind a closed door, the bedroom.

  Karl pulled Tora into the sitting room and plopped her down on a chair as he would a child. Peder went into the bedroom and returned almost immediately with Elsa.

  “Tora!” Elsa cried. Her hand flew to her mouth. “How could you? You impudent child!”

  Tora lowered her face prettily and worried a lace handkerchief in her hands. “That is exactly why I had to leave, Elsa.” She raised her head to look at her sister, and Karl had to admire the dramatic tears she had worked up. She was a piece of work, this one. “I thought that you, of all people, would understand. They think I’m a child!” She rose and paced before the stove. “But I am a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions!”

  She hurried over the few paces to her sister and took her hands, trustingly looking up into her face. “Oh, please, don’t send me home, Elsa. I promise I’ll be nothing but a help to you and dear Peder.”

  Karl looked over at his glowering friend. While Elsa seemed in a quandary, as if moved by her sister’s speech and a little pleased to have a family member with her, Peder was stoic.

  “I assume that if you are a grown woman capable of making a grown woman’s decisions then you have come with enough money to pay for your passage,” Peder said in a low voice.

  Tora’s brow furrowed. “No. Is it not perfectly horrible? I begged Papa to send me. And he would not! I was reduced to this … this …”

  “Stowing away,” Peder said.

  “Well, if we must call it that, yes. I brought my own food supplies.”

  “Enough for five weeks of travel?”

  Tora faltered, then stubbornly lifted her chin. “I will manage.”

  Peder glanced at Karl, and Karl shook his head. He seriously doubted Tora carried enough food and water to make it across the Atlantic.

  “We will manage,” Elsa put in. “But hear this, dear sister: You will take an active role in making it work.”

  As soon as Cook had cleared the dining table and departed with the lunch dishes, Nora Paulson sat down with Elsa and her English primer to work on her language study as they had done three times a week for the past three years. Once aboard the Herald, Peder had decreed that only English would be spoken. This would help train the immigrants in their new tongue so they would be prepared for their new world. With this mandate, Nora was a busy woman.

  Elsa leaned over the book with Nora, familiar with the lesson, as she had worked it through many, many times. Many parts of the troublesome new language still gave her pause, but she was slowly learning the ropes, as the sailors said. She looked over at her sister, who sat pouting in the corner of the sitting room. She had been that way all morning. Tora was angry at Elsa for sending her to sleep in the hold. As the last “passenger” to board, she had been forced to sleep in a makeshift bunk closest to the crew quarters’ wall, the noisiest.

  “Tora, come in here. If you are to make your own way in America, you’ll need to know the language.”

  “I know enough,” the girl said in saucy tones, but perfect English nonetheless. “Elsa knows no more than me.”

  Elsa’s mouth dropped in surprise. Up to then, she had only heard her sister speak in their native tongue. Then she began remembering how Tora always wanted to tag along to Nora’s house when she had her lessons, and how she was always somewhere nearby when Nora came to the Anders’ home. It had never made sense to her then; now it did.

  “Elsa knows no more than I,” Nora corrected her. “Come in here and join your sister. We’ll review pronouns.”

  “I do not believe I want to do that,” Tora said, her chin held high as she carefully selected her words. “But I do wish to understand some things. There are some funny rules to this language. For instance, take the different sounds O-U-G-H takes. ‘A rough-coated, dough-faced ploughman strode through the streets of Scarborough, coughing and hiccoughing thoughtfully.’ Does that make any sense whatsoever?” she asked, her countenance proud over her mastery of the language.

  Tora had always been bright, Elsa mused, but this was amazing. Still, her uppity manner was irritating.

  Elsa looked at Nora and then back to her sister. “Nora, would you excuse me? Perhaps another passenger would like to exchange their lesson time with mine so we could meet again later?”

  “Certainly,” Nora said. Clearly Tora agitated her as much as she did Elsa. If she weren’t the captain’s sister-in-law, Tora would certainly have received a solid dressing-down by the teacher.

  As Nora left, Elsa rose, pausing to take a deep breath to try and still her anger. She reminded herself that she was a married lady and strove to picture herself as such, thus maintaining some hold on her fury. She walked into the sitting room and sat daintily on the richly upholstered rococo love seat. “You and I must speak, Tora.”

  “About what? Your husband said quite enough last night.” She tossed her head, refusing to look at her elder sister.

  “No. He did not. You have intruded upon us and our new marriage, assuming I would care for you. To compound the problem, you are penniless. Peder is trying to build a new business; he does not need another mouth to feed.”

  “I did not realize I would be such a burden,” Tora spat out. “There you were, bemoaning the fact that you had to leave your whole family behind.”

  Elsa swallowed hard. “I did leave my whole family behind. You, dear sister, are a stowaway. That is a criminal offense on most ships. You’re fortunate that Peder is not planning to enter a British port and dump you off.”

  “Do not do me any favors,” Tora said, leveling her cool gaze at her sister.

  Elsa snorted in disgust. “You are … I will tell you something. I won’t do you any favors. You will eat from your food supplies until they are gone, and when they are, I will feed you because I have a charitable heart.”

  Tora said nothing.

  “You are an impudent, willful child, Tora. But you have made an adult decision. I plan to hold you accountable for it.”

  “Fine.”

  “I hope you’ll continue to think so. Peder and I will see you after dinner tonight. Until then, you may go back to your bunk or roam the decks. Just stay out of the way of the sailors. In fact, stay far away from the sailors, period. Which reminds me, Peder wishes to know the name of the sailor who helped you sneak aboard.”

  “I do not recall.”

  “He means to give him ten lashes and leave him ashore at the next port. You deserve lashes too. If you won’t give him the name, perhaps such measures will be necessary.”

  “Do not threaten me,” Tora said with indignation, standing up with fists clenched.

  Elsa sighed. “Listen to me, Tora. A captain is lord of his domain. He can do as he wishes. And since the Herald is a rather small domain, it is imperative that he maintain control. Can you imagine what would happen if all sailors got it in their heads to sneak their girls aboard? Chaos. And it will not happen here, for Peder is too good a captain to allow it. Give me his name. I’ll plead his case, asking Peder to simply put him ashore, not whip him. The boy must be simple—it is obvious you used him.”

  She saw a small smile of victory flicker across her sister’s face. Despite everything, Tora was pleased with herself. It took every ounce of reserve in Elsa to keep from throttling her.

  “He thinks he knows who it is anyway. He saw you disappear with him at the wedding. Papa would be livid if he knew! Give me his name, Tora.”

  Tora stood and flounced out her skirt, avoiding Elsa’s gaze. “He means nothing to me. His name is Vidar.”

  “I suppose you take pride in using this young man?”

  Tora simply stared back at her in silence.

  “It is not something to be proud of, Tora. Someday your ways will catch up with you.” Getting no response, Elsa sighed again and said, “You may leave.”

  As her sister left through the small cabin
door, Elsa muttered to herself, “Your ways will catch up with you sooner than you think, dear sister.”

  Three days out and still my stomach soars with the ship, Kaatje mused. She supposed that if she weren’t pregnant, her stomach would have adjusted to the movement of the ship on the sea, much as others’ had. But she and Astrid were still battling to keep down the broth that various women brought them and, between naps, trying to entertain one another with stories. She had always liked Astrid but had not known her very well; now she felt they were close friends.

  A quick knock at the door was followed by Soren entering in typical exuberance. “Good afternoon,” he said, bowing gallantly at the hip. “Is there anything I can get for you ladies of leisure?” He came over to the bunk and gave Kaatje a brief kiss on the cheek.

  “Oh, Soren,” Kaatje said. “Tell us about what you can see from above deck. We’re feeling a bit closed in.”

  “It’s wonderful! It is so marvelous that I’m considering quitting the land and sailing with Peder and Karl and Kristoffer. What a life!”

  Kaatje frowned. “What? Quit farming? But our land … our dreams …”

  “Oh, Kaatje, I’m only joking,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “But you should see it. We’re nearing Scotland; you can see it in the distance. She rises up out of the gray, swirling seas like a great, green turtle.”

  Kaatje giggled at his wild gesticulations and imitation of a sea turtle.

  “Last night, I coerced Karl into letting me climb to the crow’s nest.”

  “I knew you would.”

  “You could see for miles!” he said. “On one side, there was a great school of fish swimming alongside the Herald. On the other, two dolphins! It’s like we’re a part of King Neptune’s watery universe!”

  Kaatje smiled at his picturesque enthusiasm. She should have known. Soren had fallen for the sea just like he did any new thing in his path.