Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy Book 3)

by Michele McGrath

  Emer gave her a shortened version of her story and Drifa listened carefully saying nothing until she had finished.

  “Atli said you are a dreamer and will be useful to us in the future. Personally I have no use for dreamers, only for those who work hard and do what they are told to do.”

  “I am used to working. I did not sit idly in the house while others laboured for me. I intend not to be a burden. I promised Atli that I would do as he asked me, once my father was free and had returned to our home.”

  “What did you hope to gain by coming here?”

  “My father’s freedom. Atli promised to ransom him,” Emer said.

  “So he told me, but your father is long gone from here.”

  “I know.”

  “You know? How can you? You have only just arrived here. Has Freydis been gossiping? I will take a stick to her.”

  “No. She didn’t tell me, no one did. I saw Fadir land on an island far out upon the ocean. Atli thought the place I described was called Landnám.”

  “How did you see him? One of your dreams I suppose?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Trust a man to be taken in by a pretty face and a tall story. Only those things we can touch are real and all the rest are fantasies. I believe none of it.” Drifa looked at her disdainfully, her mouth pursed. Emer stiffened and her temper rose. She started to respond when Atli entered the house, two young men following at his heels.

  Afterwards Emer was glad she had not spoken. Drifa was the type of woman it was wiser not to offend, especially since she had to live beneath her roof. The truth was that the smaller of the two youths distracted her. He walked forward with a lithe grace and he smiled at her. Emer’s heart started to beat faster. As he came nearer, she saw that he had dark curly hair and a thin moustache. He was dressed in a tunic that seemed to fit him tightly, almost like another skin. She could see his muscles ripple through the thin leather and he had a good figure. His eyes were dark and twinkling. He strode forward, a step behind Atli, as if he thought all the world belonged to him. Atli held out his hand to Emer and drew her forward.

  “This is my second son, Rolf, he said, “and this is Hari, my oldest son. Hari will be your husband.”

  Emer had a sudden pang of dismay. Hari, not Rolf! She had hardly glanced at the older boy. She looked at him now. He was a gangling youth, very tall and slightly stooped, as if he was ashamed of his height. His long hair flamed with the red of the bracken in winter. He wore a long dark robe and a cloak which hid his shape. He put her in mind of an old hermit she had once seen. She was grateful he lacked the rank smell of the old recluse. She could not really see his face, with his head drooped. He did not look at her; keeping his eyes firmly on the ground. Hari seemed to have no curiosity, only a sullen resentment. Suddenly she realised that Atli must have told his sons about his plans and they were not to Hari’s taste.

  Rolf, on the other hand, stared at her boldly, as if he was enjoying the situation and his brother’s discomfort. She caught a flash of speculation in his eyes and then, as Atli turned his head for a moment, Rolf winked at her. If their roles were reversed, she was sure Rolf would have no hesitation in taking her one way or the other. He would relish the opportunity. She wondered how she would react if he made the attempt. She would find it hard to say no to him; nor would he expect her to do so. He seemed well aware of his own charm. Not many women must have refused him in the past. She wondered how many he had lain with since he had grown to manhood. He was young but already a man. No one, she decided, would ever take Rolf and Hari for brothers.

  “Let us become better acquainted.” Atli sat down by the fire and his sons took seats on either side of him. Drifa rose and went out, returning with a servant carrying horns of strong ale. It was not a drink Emer liked, but she had tasted it before and had been taught the associated customs so she made no mistakes. Once the ale was served, Atli gestured sharply to his wife. Drifa turned on her heel and flounced off to the other end of the hall.

  “I told my sons your story and the things we must do now,” Atli said. “I have ordered Rolf to outfit his ship for a voyage to the Landnám islands. I have traded there before, some years ago, and they are always in need of goods. They mainly send us salt fish in return because they have little else of value. It’s a long way, but if this weather holds the journey will be swift.”

  “Have you thought, Fadir, that Olaf Eirikson may no longer be there?” Rolf asked.

  “He’s there,” Emer said firmly, feeling certain. They stared at her and she saw Hari’s jaw drop slightly. “I did not see him leave.”

  “Perhaps you should dream again, so we can be sure,” Rolf suggested, with a grin.

  “I can’t dream whenever I please,” she said sharply. “I have only ever dreamed of the future twice and those visions came without warning. I don’t know how and when the next one will come.”

  “You mentioned your grandfather used a mixture of soils to make his visions appear when he needed them to do so. If you will tell me what you need, I will have my son fetch them for you. Then you may try the trick yourself,” Atli offered.

  For a few seconds, Emer sat paralysed, remembering her mother’s warnings, but she could hardly refuse. She had promised to obey Atli, so she had better get used to his orders. Such a dream might even help them in their search. So she said,

  “Very well. My mother charged me to keep the mixing process secret, but not the ingredients. She said that the experience could be harmful to people who do not share our blood, for the effects vary in different people. I told you about her friend, who was lucky to escape without a shattered mind. I would warn you not to try this for yourselves.”

  “Be at ease. We will not. Now tell us and Rolf shall fetch the substances for you.”

  Emer closed her eyes and thought about the rhyme her mother had taught her, when she was little. Then she said,

  “I need four soils or rocks. White marble, like pebbles from the beach, a black rock with tar running out of it and a red soil with green veins. The hardest one to find is a deep yellow colour and is often deep in the back of caves.”

  “Three are easy, the fourth I will have to go many miles to find,” Rolf said slowly. “I can bring some of the soils today easily enough. I remember a cave whose walls were yellow and I could travel there, but I will not be able to return the same day. That is two days I cannot spare, Fadir. I still have my ship to prepare for this voyage. Shouldn’t Hari be the one to go? He has more time to spare and Emer will be his wife, not mine. He should bear his part in this.”

  At these words Hari raised his head at last and Emer realised that his face was marked with the red rash of youth. He was frowning. He opened his mouth to speak but Atli was already answering Rolf.

  “No, Hari stays here to become acquainted with Emer. Par can provision the boat, while you search for these materials. He’s capable enough and I will oversee the loading. I want Emer’s information spread between as few people as possible. How much do you need of each of these substances?” he asked Emer.

  “A beaker of each of the first three and two beakers of the yellow one.”

  “Start now,” Atli said to Rolf. “You can take my horse; it’s the fastest.”

  Rolf said no more, he saluted his father, smiled provocatively at Emer and then turned on his heel and left the room. Hari stood up.

  “If you have no further need of me, Fadir, I will go back to my work.”

  “You will stay and speak with Emer. She will become your wife as soon as we return from the Landnám Islands…”

  “Fadir, you know I don’t wish to marry, but to return to the brothers on Eyin Helga. I agreed to come back here in order to teach Faraldr reading and reckoning, so he can take over my duties. I want to convert to the Christian faith and become a monk.”

  “And it is my will that you stay here, marry Emer and worship the gods of your fathers. You are my eldest son and your duty is to me, not to some group of weaklings who have nei
ther the wit nor the strength to call themselves men. Even their god is weak, letting himself be killed without fighting to save his life. How can he help anyone else if he could not help himself? Let’s hear no more of this nonsense. You have everything you need here.”

  “Fadir…”

  “Enough. You know what I expect. Now you will get to know the bride I have selected for you. Your duty is to be a husband and my son.”

  Atli rose and went down the longhouse to speak to his wife. Hari slumped into his seat with a sigh, saying nothing more and staring bleakly into the fire. Emer felt shaken and ill, both for his sake and her own. How could their marriage be happy if Hari detested the thought of it so completely? After the silence had dragged on for several minutes, she said timidly,

  “I am sorry to be the cause of putting you and your father at odds.”

  Hari raised his head and looked at her closely. He had dark grey eyes, the colour of the winter sea, strangely bright and beautifully shaped. They were his best feature although, unlike his brother, he seemed not to know or care how he appeared.

  “We’ve been at odds for as long as I can remember. What did he say about me before you got here?” he asked.

  “Nothing about you or your brother.”

  “He did not tell you that he had sent me to Eyin Helga to learn reading and figuring and that I wanted to remain there?”

  “He did not.”

  “I see.”

  Silence fell again for a while then he said, “Why didn’t you ask about me?”

  Emer hung her head, blushed and did not answer.

  “Tell me!” he shouted, bringing all eyes upon them. People looked and then turned away at Hari’s angry gesture.

  “Because it didn’t matter to me!” Emer stared into his eyes defiantly. “I only cared to free my father and Atli’s swore an oath that he will rescue him. He told me I would have to marry you, but, once my father was safe, I did not care. I haven’t got enough money to ransom him myself and my friends were going back to their home. This was the only way I could be sure that Fadir would be freed and taken home.”

  “You must love him very much.” Emer caught a trace of wistfulness in his words.

  “I do.”

  “Enough to wed a man who does not want you?”

  “If that is what is demanded of me.”

  “Suppose I ask you to tell Atli that you will not go through with this marriage?”

  “I can’t do that, even if I would. I also swore an oath on a sword hilt to obey Atli in all things and I cannot revoke it now.”

  “I have sworn no oath and I tell you plainly that I want no wife, especially someone who is a total stranger to me.” As he said the words, his eyes seemed to sparkle even more, as if he was trying to suppress his tears. Emer had a sudden thought.

  “There was a girl you wanted to marry, wasn’t there?” she asked softly.

  He stared at her aghast and raised his arm as if he was going to strike her. Then his hand dropped and he turned away.

  “What was her name?”

  “Kata.” He spoke so quietly that Emer had to strain her ears to hear him.

  “What happened to her?”

  “When Fadir sent me to Eyin Helga, she promised to wait for me. She did not. She married only a month after I left, she cared so little for me. She is now the wife of Afvaldr who lives on Colonsey.”

  “Perhaps she had no choice in the matter,” Emer murmured. “Women rarely do.”

  “You don’t know her. She has a mind of her own and is pretty enough to have her way in most things. She chose to marry Afvaldr.”

  “Then you have had a lucky escape, for she would not have been true to you,” Emer said. “Is that why you want to be a monk, to live without women?”

  “That and other things. There is a peacefulness on Eyin Helga and a sense of purpose also…” He shrugged. “But what is the use of talking? I have never defied my father and I cannot see myself doing so now. Whether I wish it or not, we will be wed.”

  “I shall try to make you a good wife,” Emer said, trying to smile at him.

  “You don’t really understand, do you? I don’t want a woman in my life, any woman. They are fickle, shallow and cruel. My life is better without any of them. The best you can do for me, now and in the future is to keep away and leave me alone.”

  He got up and barged out of the longhouse, bumping into things and swearing as if he was not aware of his surroundings.

  “Poor boy,” Emer murmured to herself. “Kata must have hurt you very much.” Although she understood the reason for Hari’s unhappiness, it did not change the dreadful prospect of their future together. Her shoulders sagged. She had not realised until then how stiffly she had been holding herself. She could not help the dark wave of depression that rolled over her. She had condemned herself to a loveless marriage and a bleak future with a man who detested women.

  I will spend my life far away from the people I love and who love me, she thought, fighting back her tears. I’ll live and die in this foreign land with a man who despises women. For the first time, she wondered if she had been right to barter so much for Olaf’s freedom. What a fool she had been to blindly follow Atli’s suggestion, almost without serious consideration. Then she thrust the evil thought away.

  It has to be worth it. Fadir is worth it. He would do the same for me and never regret his actions. I know how brave he is. I would never have stayed still while someone broke my arm or burnt me with hot metal as he did. I’m his daughter and I must be like him. What kind of a coward would I be if I asked Atli to release me now and leave him to his fate? Whatever happens, I will do as I swore to do. I will be a good wife to Hari, whether he wants me to be or not. She hesitated, remembering her first sight of the two brothers, then she murmured, “And I won’t think about what my life would be like if I married Rolf instead.”

  6

  Rolf returned from his errand just as the night meal was ending. He looked tired and strained and he had not stayed to remove the dust of travel from his clothes. He bowed to his father and then went straight to Emer. Her heart jumped as she watched him approach. She looked up into his face and saw the curve of his smile. She smiled in return, feeling suddenly breathless. Rolf carried a large bag which he dumped unceremoniously at her feet, drawing all eyes upon them, especially those of a dark haired girl who sat a little apart. She was very pretty but she was frowning and, if looks could kill, Emer knew she would certainly be dead.

  “I’ve brought most of what you sent me for. I will get the rest tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, unable to say more and feeling suddenly shy.

  Rolf nodded and went over to his seat, took a long horn of ale and gulped it down. His cronies made room for him and obviously were asking him about his strange errand for a buzz of talk arose. Rolf, however, did not seem to be satisfying their curiosity for he kept shaking his head and saying little. After a while the dark-haired girl joined them, fawning on Rolf and laughing at his jokes. She kept darting glances over at Emer and smirking as Rolf fondled her absently.

  “Who is that girl who keeps looking at me?” Emer asked the woman sitting next to her.

  “Oh, her!” There was contempt in the woman’s voice. “That’s Brina, Rolf’s latest woman. He picked her up on his travels and brought her here, more fool him.”

  “She’s a captive?” Emer asked, startled. The girl had none of the demeanour she associated with slaves.

  “She is and she isn’t — if you get my meaning. She’s risen above herself, as long as she finds favour in Rolf’s eyes. His women generally don’t last long, but she’s done better than most.”

  “What will happen to her then?” Emer felt horrified, although she knew such things went on even in her island home.

  “He’ll pass her on to one of the others or sell her, I suppose. Good riddance when he does. That one has a sharp tongue and she’ll go too far one of these days. I’d watch her if I were you. Perhaps she sees
you as a rival.”

  “She needn’t; I’m not her rival.”

  “But perhaps you’d like to be, hey?” The woman shot her a sharp look and Emer opened her mouth to answer when she sensed someone near and looked up.

  “Come with me.” Atli had risen and come over to her, picking up the bag. “Let’s go, so you can check these things Rolf has brought.”

  He picked up a horn lantern and led her out of the longhouse. A small hut stood nearby with a low doorway, which Atli had to stoop to enter. Emer followed him in and he shut the door behind her, barring it carefully. Emer looked round. The hut had a table with pieces of vellum stacked on top of it. Chests and sacks lined the wall and a couple of stools stood beside the table. Atli hung up the lantern and pushed the vellum aside. He put Rolf’s sack on the table, opened the thong and stood back, gesturing to Emer.

  “Has he found the right materials?” he asked.

  Emer laid out the containers on the table. They had been sealed with pieces of hide and tied with thongs. It took her some time to open them and to check each one.

  “These three are correct, as far as I can tell. Only the yellow soil is needed to complete the mixture.”

  “Good.” Atli helped her reseal the beakers and hung the sack onto one of the pegs. “No one comes in here except Hari, Faraldr and me. It’s where we do the figuring and trading. It is also where I store certain items. Everyone knows that they are not to enter unless they want to feel my displeasure. The bag will be safer here than in the longhouse.”

  Emer nodded. “Atli…” she started to say and then stopped.

  “Yes?”

  “I have only ever seen this done once before and I have never tried it myself. I cannot be sure that it will work or that I will be able to see what you want me to.”

  “I accept that, but you will try?”

  “Yes. I promised to obey you and I don’t break my promises.”