by Peter Fox
Horik stared at her, clearly amazed by her audacity, then his eyes narrowed. ‘Do you dare threaten me?’ he snarled.
‘No,’ Helga hissed icily. ‘You may consider it a certainty.’
For a moment all present held their breaths as Horik teetered on the verge of striking her with his still-raised hand. Most had no doubt that Helga could and would deliver on her promise, and fortunately, some deep sense of self-preservation stayed Horik’s arm.
‘I’ll do what I like with the boy,’ Horik said coldly, ‘and your threats don’t frighten me, witch. Just be sure to keep that slave-boy and his kuksuger away from my son, because if they step onto my shore, I’ll slice them to bits and feed them to my dogs.’
Sigvald immediately moved to Helga’s defence, but he needn’t have bothered. His wife rose to her full height, and with a dramatic flourish, produced a small purple bag from within the folds of her dress. She plunged her hand into the leather pouch and with a harsh-spoken incantation, flung a dark powder into the face of her foe.
‘Amaranth dekra ka gura!’ she cried, shoving Horik aside and flinging more of the powder at his men behind him. The concoction had an immediate effect, as Horik and his men began yelping in agony and rubbing their eyes and sneezing. ‘Begone, creatures of the cesspit!’ Helga cried, moving her hands violently as if to push Horik and his men away. Shouting a mix of curses and remedies to ward off Helga’s diabolical spell, they hastily retreated to their longship, Gunnar among them.
Satisfied with her efforts, Helga then turned to Leif. The boy took a step backwards, fearful of what the great woman might have in store for him. Instead, Helga smiled.
‘I meant what I said to your father, Leif,’ she said. ‘Even so, I must say that I am most reluctant to let you go.’ She let out a sigh and took his face in her hands. ‘But we are faced with little other choice. So you must promise me that you’ll look out for yourself until summer when we shall take this matter to the Althing. Yes?’
Suddenly Leif backed away and sneezed. He looked up at Helga fearfully, but she smiled. ‘The incantation only works on bad people. You must be catching a chill. Go.’
‘No!’ Rathulf protested. ‘This isn’t right. You can’t go. Leif!’
Leif looked at Rathulf. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said sadly. ‘All I seem to do is bring trouble wherever I go.’ When Rathulf began to argue, Leif lifted his hand to silence his friend. ‘You know as well as I do that I can’t stay here anymore. We’ll get together in summer when you’re better, yeah?’
‘But you saved our lives,’ Rathulf said, feeling as though he was betraying his friend by letting him go. ‘We can’t protect you if you leave.’
Leif shook his head. ‘You can’t protect me here, Ra,’ he said sadly.
With that, he turned and walked down towards his father’s longship, alone once again.
Rathulf clenched his fists and watched helplessly as Horik hauled his friend roughly aboard and shoved him onto one of the rowing benches and ordered him to take up an oar. Horik then stepped up to the steering board and gave the order to set off.
It was only when the ship was well clear of the shore that Sigvald released his grip on his foster-son’s arm.
‘I’ll kill him,’ Rathulf whispered, shaking with fury.
‘Hmm,’ Sigvald agreed, his eyes still on the departing longship.
‘Remind me not to cross you, auntie,’ Alrik’s younger brother Arni said lightly and thoroughly inappropriately. ‘Did you see their faces? What’s that stuff going to do to them? Turn them into goblins or something?’
Helga, however, was far from amused. ‘Get back inside!’ she snapped at her nephew, thrusting a quivering finger towards the hall for the second time. ‘Now!’
Arni blinked at her, then he darted off to safety.
‘The rest of you, back to your chores!’ Helga ordered.
‘Does that include me?’ Bardi asked, slightly amused, despite the gravity of the situation.
Helga rolled her eyes at her brother then turned her attention to her patient.
‘Back inside too, Rathulf. Husband, ensure that he does not move from that bench. Ingrith, go with your father.’ She turned to Bardi and Alrik. ‘A brief word, if I may?’
Rathulf needed no prodding from his fostri, and he made his way quickly back into the little bothy.
‘Let’s hope no one is stupid enough to point out this isn’t her garth and she has no right to boss anyone around,’ Sigvald muttered as he helped the lad back to his bed. Moments later, Alrik came through the doorway, muttering to himself. He threw a look at his uncle that challenged him to say something, but Sigvald chose to ignore him.
‘I can’t believe Horik did that to Leif!’ Ingrith said, ‘and right in front of us too!’
‘I hate him,’ was all Rathulf could say, for he had no other words to describe the rage, despair and confusion that he felt over his failure to protect his friend. He could not rid himself of Leif’s defeated expression, and no matter how hard he tried to think of something else, always his mind returned to the host of dreadful punishments that Horik would undoubtedly deal out to his son as soon as they arrived back home. Indeed why wait until then? Horik was probably lashing his son to the sternpost right now. Rathulf slumped back onto his bed and let out an involuntary groan. The exertion had been too much for his ribs, and they throbbed in protest. He was going to pay for this encounter in more ways than one.
‘That went well,’ Sigvald offered. He raised his eyebrows at Alrik. ‘And what were you thinking, drawing your blade on Horik? We can thank the Gods I married a Valkyrie.’
‘The Gods had nothing to do with it,’ came Helga’s voice. She stepped into the hut with Bardi in tow. Everyone shrank back in readiness for her tongue-lashing. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she protested. ‘Someone had to get rid of that distasteful man. As it happens, Ra,’ she added, returning to the subject, ‘you and Alrik standing up to Horik as you did – not that I am condoning your reckless behaviour, mind – was good for Leif to see. You really do care what happens to him. He won’t forget that. And what are you doing in here, Alrik? I told you to go up to the hall and keep out of harm’s way.’
Alrik opened his mouth to answer, paused, then frowned, evidently not sure why he’d ignored his aunt’s instructions.
‘Well since you’re here, it’s time you two made up,’ Helga said. ‘I really don’t understand what’s got into the two of you?’
‘Yes you do, mother,’ Ingrith said helpfully. ‘Alrik is jealous of Leif, because Leif saved Rathulf, not Alrik, so Alrik is afraid Leif will replace him as Ra’s best friend.’
‘No I’m not,’ Alrik protested, shooting an angry glare at his cousin.
‘It was a rhetorical question, dear,’ Helga said to her daughter.
‘You’re the one who told me,’ Ingrith replied huffily.
‘What’s a rhetorical?’ Alrik demanded.
‘Can we just stop all this?’ Rathulf pleaded, fearing a breaking of the fragile peace. Both his head and his ribs throbbed painfully and could barely think. He turned to Alrik. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I pissed you off, and I’m really sorry I hit you. You don’t have to worry about Leif, you know, taking your place. You’re still my best friend. The fact that you stood up to Horik like you did proves it, even if that lot don’t approve of what you did.’ He waved his hand in the direction of Helga, Sigvald and Bardi.
Alrik looked down at his friend, clearly unconvinced, and clearly unwilling to let Rathulf off so easily.
‘I mean it,’ Rathulf added, not sure what else he could say or do to persuade Alrik that he really was sincere.
Alrik let out a long breath and sat down on a stool near the fire, keeping his eyes fixed on Rathulf. ‘Ingrith’s right,’ he said finally, throwing his hands up in defeat. ‘I do wish it was me and I hate that it was him. It’s…’ he stopped and shook his head in frustration then turned away, choosing to stare into the flames instead. ‘I still can’t believe he
did it all without any help.’
‘Well that’s too bad,’ Rathulf said, though not unkindly, ‘because Leif did save me and my father.’
Not that it had done Leif any good, Rathulf thought, for, despite all that had happened, his friend was no better off than when they had first found him out in the snow before the avalanche. If only Thorvald hadn’t been so grievously injured and could stand in support of me! He sighed and turned to his foster-mother, needing to divert himself from this unhappy line of thought. ‘What was that spell you cast to make Horik’s men run away? Are they really going to turn into goblins?’
Helga smiled. ‘A sorceress never gives away her secrets my dear.’ When Rathulf frowned at her, her smile broadened. ‘Shall we say that tonight’s meal may be a little blander due to a lack of seasoning.’
‘You threw pepper at them?’ Ingrith asked, incredulous.
‘The whole bag?’ Sigvald added, his face paling.
‘What was I to do?’ Helga protested. ‘It was all I had on my person.’ Pepper was one of the rarest and therefore most prized seasonings to be had in Norvegr, and the contents of that little bag would have been worth a small fortune. ‘Still,’ the tall woman added, rising from the bench and straightening her kirtle with her hands, ‘it had the desired effect, and it is a much lesser price to pay than with your lives. Oh, and there’s no need to be shy about thanking me for preventing your deaths by the way.’
‘It wasn’t that bad,’ Rathulf said sheepishly, ‘but I suppose the pepper thing was helpful.’
Alrik, however, was unrepentant. ‘We would have won,’ he said sulkily, ‘and we wouldn’t have needed all that conjuring witchery either.’
‘Yes boys,’ Helga soothed, taking Sigvald’s arm and leading him towards the doorway. ‘Try and get some rest,’ she said to Rathulf. ‘You’ll never get better at this rate, and the best thing you can do for Leif is to get yourself to full health by summer. Come along Ingrith, Alrik.’
The others left, but Alrik paused in the doorway for a moment, his hand on the door latch. ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t help Leif,’ he said. He turned to go, but Rathulf stopped him.
‘You know you’ll always be my best friend,’ he said, ‘no matter what happens.’
Alrik let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it,’ he said brusquely.
‘I mean it,’ Rathulf said. ‘Leif’s not like you. He’s more like a brother or something. You’re…’ Rathulf paused, suddenly not sure what he was trying to say. What exactly is Alrik to me? he wondered. It is nothing like how I feel about Leif, that much I do know, but nor do I feel this way about anyone else, either. It’s a weird sensation, from somewhere deep inside me. Like I need him, but… it’s more than that. He paused in his thinking, suddenly feeling troubled by his inner ponderings. ‘You’re… different,’ he said.
Alrik turned his green eyes to Rathulf, his expression apprehensive. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Rathulf’s discomfort surged in the face of Alrik’s scrutiny. He quickly changed the subject. ‘Forget it. What did you mean when you said there was a secret about me?’
Alrik frowned at Rathulf, clearly dissatisfied with the diversion, but he let it pass. He glanced outside then turned back to Rathulf. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I was just being mean. Sorry.’ With that he departed, pulling the door shut behind him.
Rathulf lay his head on the pillow and stared up into the soot-stained rafters. For a long time, he mulled over Leif’s fate, and guilt weighed heavily upon him. Inevitably his thoughts drifted from Leif to the avalanche and then his father’s odd behaviour just before the disaster. What had he been holding in his arms? Rathulf had the deeply disturbing feeling that something remained to be told, and despite Alrik’s denial just now, Rathulf didn’t believe a word of it. Alrik knew something – something really important – about Rathulf’s past, something it appeared that everyone knew about with the sole exception of the subject himself. Rathulf felt a flash of anger at his friend for that but at the end of the day, who could blame him? I’d just smacked him in the face after all, he thought. Even so, I know two – no, three – things with certainty: one, as soon as I am able, I will go to Horiksby with or without Alrik’s help to fetch Leif; two, I will make Alrik and the others tell me whatever it is they’re keeping from me; and three, it doesn’t matter what they say, because I am Rathulf Thorvaldarsson, Viking of Aurlandsfjorden.
Satisfied with his conclusions, he flicked the woollen draught curtain across the doorway with his foot and settled back into his bed. He gazed into the swaying folds of the curtain for a while, then suddenly an image came to him; of a woman he had never seen before. Tall, proud and beautiful, with long fair hair, light brown eyes and a gentle smile. She bent over and kissed him on the forehead, then she was gone.
PART III
Norvegr
Early Spring, 823AD
10. Give him enough rope…
Bardisby, Sognefjorden, Norvegr
Sigvald ran down towards the fjord, trying to convince himself that he was over-reacting. Alrik had missed breakfast plenty of times before. Nearly two weeks had passed since Leif’s departure, and it was a bright, clear morning that had taken them all by surprise after another bout of dreadful weather with more snow and freezing temperatures. Alrik had just as likely gone for a sail to catch some fresh air after being cooped up in the stale atmosphere of the hall. Yet Alrik had been acting strangely since Horik’s visit, and something within Sigvald told him that this jaunt was related, and not in a good way. He glanced at the hall as he passed, the tempting smells of the morning meal wafting from the doorway. I should just go back inside and stop making a fuss, he told himself. Instead, he continued around the end of the house and looked down to the shore, trying to convince himself that Alrik would not dare disobey him in this matter.
The Wave Skimmer was nowhere to be seen.
Quelling his alarm, Sigvald turned and walked to the guest house. Surely Alrik hasn’t gone to Horik’s alone? Then again, would it be any better that he’s taken Rathulf with him?
He knocked and entered. He found Rathulf asleep with Ingrith lying on the house-bench beside him, her arm lying across his stomach. It stopped him in his tracks. He’d been so pre-occupied of late that he hadn’t been paying much attention to his daughter’s activities; not nearly enough, evidently. Had the two youngsters…? He stopped at that thought. Youngsters? Rathulf is about to turn sixteen and Ingrith is a year younger; both well past marrying age. But he simply couldn’t get his head around the fact that they were fully grown adults now. Fortunately, they were still clothed, not that it meant much. He shook his head, resolving to deal with all that later. There were much more important things to sort out first.
Sigvald shook Rathulf gently by the shoulder. The young man woke with a start, which in turn roused Ingrith. When Ingrith saw who it was, she let out a squeak and quickly looked down at herself to make sure everything was where it should be.
‘We didn’t do anything, honest!’ she blurted, blushing all the same. ‘I fell asleep.’
‘Just… just go to your mother,’ Sigvald said, and Ingrith dashed out the door. The jarl turned back to his foster-son.
‘I… she…’ Rathulf began, his mind still clearly addled by sleep.
‘I don’t want to know,’ Sigvald said crisply. ‘We’ll deal with that another time. There’s something I need to–’
Rathulf’s eyes sprang wide with alarm. ‘Father!’ he cried and struggled to get up.
Sigvald quickly shook his head. ‘No, he’s fine, in so much as a stupor can be called that. I want to know where Alrik has gone.’
‘Alrik?’ Rathulf asked, confused.
‘Rathulf, this is very important. Has Alrik gone to Leif’s?’
Rathulf frowned at the jarl. ‘Why would he do that? He doesn’t like Leif.’
Sigvald paused, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. ‘I just thought he might be trying to
make it up to you somehow. Maybe he feels guilty.’
Rathulf shook his head. ‘Sigvald, what’s going on?’
The jarl frowned at his fostri. Well, if Alrik isn’t sailing to Horik’s then where is he going? he wondered. Surely not to have a go at Gunnar, although again that would be understandable. Alrik had been pretty riled up the other day when Horik had come, and something hadn’t felt right about that spat between the boys. Rathulf had looked pretty shaken too, and I’d obviously interrupted something when I’d gone in. What then?
His heart skipped a beat as another idea came to him. Surely not, he thought, suddenly remembering his conversation with Alrik in the stable during the heart of winter. The jarl changed tack, his sense of alarm growing as he formed the question.
‘Rathulf, what happened the other day, when you boys had that fight?’
‘How do you mean? He made me angry when he said that thing about Leif being a coward–’
‘I’m not talking about that,’ Sigvald interrupted. ‘I want to know what Alrik said to you.’
Rathulf’s frown deepened. ‘Why?’ he said. ‘What’s he done?’
Sigvald decided to take a gamble. ‘Rathulf, did he tell you something about your parents?’
Rathulf blinked. Myriad expressions flickered across his face, then he stared at the jarl, confirming Sigvald’s worst fears. ‘He said something about a big secret you’ve been keeping from me; something about who I am, and that he could get proof.’
‘Sleipnir’s balls!’ Sigvald whispered. ‘Did he, be damned?’
‘Sigvald? What’s going on?’ Rathulf again tried to rise, but Sigvald held out a hand to hold him back. The jarl took a breath.
‘Ra, when your father talked to you about your past, did he ever mention a chest?’
