by Speer, Flora
Halfdan pressed a cup of mead into her hand. She forced herself to smile as the party drank a toast to Erik’s good luck on his dangerous voyage to Miklagard.
“You should look happier, Lenora. You have what you wanted.” Tola was helping to clear away the remains of their meal.
“I am happy,” Lenora lied. “It’s just so unexpected. I don’t know what to do next.”
“That Erik. He’s full of surprises.”
“Yes.” Lenora glanced at the men, sitting about on the bed platforms, making plans for the morning. Erik was in deep conversation with Freydis. Lenora followed Alara and Tola into the kitchen.
“Better hide that,” Tola advised, indicating the bag of coins Lenora still held. “Someone might steal it.”
Lenora pulled the strings tight and tied them about her neck. She tucked the bag under the neckline of her dress and patted at it until it was nearly flat.
“That will do for now,” she said.
She wondered if she and Erik could slip out to the barn later. She wanted to be able to speak to him without the others hearing, to thank him for her freedom, to hold his naked body in her arms and abandon herself to his caresses. Just once more. Just one last time.
“Lenora,” Freydis interrupted her thoughts as she joined the other women in the kitchen, “I wanted to ask you—”
There was a loud crash in the main room, and an unmistakable sneering laugh, followed by Asmund’s shout.
“Snorri!”
Tola dropped the wooden plates she was holding. Freydis turned white. Lenora moved to the doorway to see what was happening.
Snorri, sword ready in his hand, had thrown back the wooden door to the street, smashing it against the wall as he entered. He was followed into the house by Hrolf and Bjarni. More armed men could be seen crowding behind them at the doorway.
“Come in, brother.” Erik was apparently unruffled by Snorri’s sudden appearance. “How did you find me so quickly?”
“Erna,” Snorri replied. “Let me give you a lesson in women, cripple. When you leave a wench like Erna for another woman you must do one of two things. Either you kill her or you pay her well. Otherwise, she will seek to do you harm. Erna was your woman once, but you neglected her completely after Lenora arrived at Thorkellshavn, and the other women teased her about it. Her pride was badly hurt. You poured salt into that wound by going away without even saying good-bye to her. Tola, gossiping as usual, had told her friend Erna where you were going. Erna told me. An entertaining woman, that Erna. A bit quick to lift her skirts, but then, unlike you, I paid her well.”
“I will remember your advice,” Erik said dryly.
“You won’t live long enough to use it, thief.”
“I am no thief.”
“I have learned you stole part of Thorkell’s hoard. I want it back.”
“Thorkell gave me that silver for my own use.”
“You lie. You stole it,” Snorri insisted. “I think you have loaded it on some ship, disguised as cargo. I think you plan to take it to Miklagard with you.”
“Do you?” Erik’s smile was guileless.
“I know what a coward you are, how you hate to fight. Give back the silver and I’ll let you go without hurting you.”
“If you want to bargain with someone, you should not begin by insulting him. What about Freydis?”
“Freydis will return to Thorkellshavn with me, and marry Kare.”
“That is something over which we will never haggle, Snorri. Freydis is not for Kare.”
Lenora saw Snorri’s sword flash as he raised his arm to strike. She saw Erik duck and leap aside, unsheathing his own blade. The room erupted into battle as Snorri’s men forced their way inside.
Halfdan cut down one man before he came through the door. Holgar attacked a second and. Halfdan took down a third man. Asmund and Ingvar struggled with Hrolf and Bjarni. Snorri and Erik, locked in combat, lurched through a side door into the courtyard.
The room was too small for so many people. There wasn’t enough room to maneuver. Swords and shields and battle-axes got in the way of movement.
Halfdan dispatched another of Snorri’s men, swung around, and leapt toward the kitchen.
“Freydis,” he shouted, “go to the barn. Get the horses ready.” Snorri’s men attacked him again, and Halfdan moved back into the main room.
As Freydis turned toward the door leading to the courtyard, Hrolf entered the kitchen, the fire of battle in his eyes.
“There you are, Freydis,” he called. “You are the cause of this dispute. It is time for you to die.”
He raised his glittering battle-ax. Freydis stood unmoving, seemingly fascinated by the weapon poised above her head. Tola, seeing Hrolf’s intent, screamed. As Hrolf swung his ax downward, Tola ran in front of him, pushing her mistress out of the way and taking the blow Hrolf had meant for Freydis.
Suddenly Asmund was there, shouting. Hrolf spun around, forgetting Freydis. Yelling a wild battle-cry, he pursued Asmund into the main room.
Freydis stooped to be certain there was nothing she could do to help Tola, then raced out the kitchen door, heading for the barn.
“Lenora, follow me,” she cried.
Lenora caught the terrified Alara by the hand and pulled her into the courtyard. Light from the open kitchen door made a dim pathway across the darkness. A shadow blotted out part of the light as another of Snorri’s men appeared with Ingvar in pursuit. Seeing Lenora, Snorri’s man reached for her. Alara pushed at him and he ran her through. Now Ingvar engaged the man, and they moved off into the darkness, leaving Lenora alone.
Alara lay on the ground, bleeding heavily. Lenora bent over her. Alara looked up, smiled, and closed her eyes. Lenora knew without touching her that Alara was dead. Too many people were dead or dying in this small space, and all for Norse greed and cruelty. All for Snorri. Lenora drew a deep, shuddering breath and stood up, covering her ears to shut out the sounds of battle reverberating off the buildings edging the courtyard.
“Stop it!” she screamed, “Stop it! Oh, Erik, where are you?”
A cluster of men, all arms and legs and swords and shields, surged out of the door from the main room into the courtyard. Freydis had disappeared. Lenora ran back into the kitchen, through it, and then entered the main room by the serving door. She was in time to see Hrolf turning from Holgar’s inert body to face Erik.
Grimly the two men fought, swords whacking against wooden shields, as Erik slowly backed Hrolf into a corner until he could go no farther. Erik lifted his sword for the last blow, took a step forward, and slipped in a puddle of blood. His lame leg gave way as he lost his balance and went down. His sword, knocked out of his hand by the impact, slid lazily across the floor to stop at Lenora’s feet. Hrolf laughed and raised his own sword, taking his time, relishing the moment.
Lenora snatched up Erik’s heavy blade in both hands and ran forward. The sword felt light as a feather to her. She knew what to do: three steps more and a slashing blow from right to left, just as she had seen the men do at weapons practice back at Thorkellshavn. But first she had to distract Hrolf from Erik.
“Hrolf, kill me first!”
He saw her coming and leapt over Erik, who caught at his ankle, unbalancing him. Hrolf spread his arms to steady himself, moving his shield away from his body. It was the opening Lenora needed.
So fierce was her anger at Hrolf that she felt nothing as the sharp sword met his body. Hrolf crashed to the floor.
“That’s Saxon revenge, you murdering Norseman,” she screamed.
As the red mist before her eyes cleared a little, the astonished face of Bjarni swam into view. He moved into the room, sparing only a glance for Erik, who was now slowly pulling himself to his feet.
“I see you need a woman to protect you, cripple.”
“Are you afraid of a woman, Norseman?” Lenora taunted, brandishing the sword at him.
Bjarni grimaced at the insult.
“Of no woman on earth, slave.�
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“Well, you should be, murderer.” Holding the sword in both hands, totally unconscious of its great weight in her renewed fury, Lenora slashed at him with all her strength. The blade barely nicked his side before Bjarni deflected it with his shield. He jumped to the right and laughed at her.
Lenora turned a bit to face him, her back toward the open door into the courtyard. She had forgotten about Erik. Her attention was completely focused on Bjarni, whose sword was now poised above her. Lenora felt no fear at all, only excitement and rage.
An iron-strong arm circled Lenora’s waist from behind, lifting her off her feet and carrying her through the door and away from her opponent. Another arm slammed the door of the house shut and bolted it, sealing Bjarni inside. Erik roared with laughter as he half-carried, half-dragged her to his horse, which was saddled and waiting thanks to Freydis’ quick work.
“Put me down,” Lenora yelled. “I’ll kill Bjarni. Let me kill him. Erik, let me go.”
“Stop it, Lenora. Calm yourself.” She still held his sword. He pried it out of her stiff fingers, then flung her across the horse, stomach-down. “What a berserker you are. Are you sure there’s no Norse blood in your veins? You fight almost as well as a Danish woman.”
“What do you mean, almost? Let me up. Erik!”
He paid no attention to her outraged cries. Mounting quickly, he rode at a canter along the straight road running through the center of Hedeby to the shore.
“Erik... where... is... Halfdan? Where is Freydis?” Lenora gasped. The jolting she got as the horse ran was making her feel very ill, and all she could see was the road beneath the horse’s hooves.
“They will meet us. Be quiet, Lenora. We don’t want to be followed, and you are too noisy.”
Those who had survived Snorri’s attack reassembled inside Holgar’s warehouse by the edge of Hadeby Noor. Erik rode right through the big open door, and Halfdan shut it behind him.
When Erik lifted her off his horse, Lenora found to her astonishment that she was trembling so violently she could hardly stand, and tears were running down her cheeks.
“It happens sometimes after a battle,” Erik said gently. He kept his arm about her until she was seated on a bale of Holgar’s goods.
“Snorri and his men have withdrawn,” Halfdan told them. “He ran away.”
“Make no mistake about him.” Freydis was busily binding up a gash on Asmund’s left arm. “Snorri will come looking for us again, Erik, and soon.”
“I know. Tomorrow you are all to leave Hedeby as we had planned. I will stay out of sight in this building. After dark I’ll sneak out to Rodfos’ ship and hide there. With any luck, Snorri won’t find us.”
“I won’t let you remain here alone.” Halfdan was adamant. ”I am staying with you.”
“And I,” Freydis said. “This trouble is partly over me. I can fight, too.”
“And I,” Lenora added.
“You are going to Limfjord, Freydis. I cannot rest easy until you are safe from Snorri and Gunhilde. As for you, my former slave,” Erik’s green eyes twinkled as he looked at Lenora, “I know you can fight like a man when you want. I thank you for your help earlier. You saved my life, and I am grateful. I can no longer order you, but I ask you to go with Freydis. I want to know you are safe.”
“Send the women with Asmund and Ingvar,” Halfdan suggested. “I will stay with you tomorrow in case there is any trouble, and when you are safely at sea, I will ride after them.”
They finally settled on Halfdan’s plan. With their nerves stretched tightly, sleep was impossible, but they tried to rest in anticipation of a long ride the next day.
Lenora had finally gained some control over the tremors that had shaken her limbs, but every time she thought of Tola or Alara, her stomach heaved. She resolutely put out of her mind the gruesome sights of that evening, and the memory of Snorri’s taunting voice, but she could not forget the fear that had stabbed at her heart when she had thought Hrolf would kill Erik. The idea of a world in which Erik did not exist was unbearable, and so, instinctively, she had acted to save him. But equally intolerable to her was the thought of caring for the man who had let Edwina die.
Love a Norseman? Not Lenora, daughter of Cedric! Cold pride came to her rescue, telling her the sooner she was parted from Erik, the better for her. No, she would not even weep when he left her. Let him go to Miklagard and his Greek Eirena. She, Lenora, would go to Limfjord as he wanted her to do, and then back to East Anglia, and once she was there, she would think no more of Erik the Far-Traveler. If she were fortunate, she would never have to think of, or see, a bloodthirsty Norseman again as long as she lived.
Among the goods in the warehouse they found woolen fabrics that Holgar had planned to sell. These they tore or cut into warm cloaks to replace the outer garments they had left at Holgar’s house and scarves to cover their heads and faces until they were safely gone from Hedeby.
They delayed their departure so Asmund, wrapped in brown wool, could hurry out to buy food for their journey. There was no sign of Snorri.
“He’s waiting for something,” Erik said. “I’m sure he has a plan. I wonder what it is?”
They left the warehouse late in the day. Through Freydis’ quick thinking, they had been able to bring all three of their horses from Holgar’s barn.
“Ride double and leave one horse for me,” Halfdan said. “Go safely, all of you.”
Freydis’ fingers lingered an extra moment in his big hand. Lenora turned away from them, saddened by the expression in Halfdan’s eyes.
Erik kissed Lenora lightly on the cheek before helping her to mount behind Ingvar.
“Be happy, Lenora. I wish you well.” That was all he said. Lenora, her feelings locked behind stiff pride, was glad he had not tried to embrace her. He opened the warehouse door and they rode out.
It took only a short time to pick their way through the streets of Hedeby. Soon they were out of the town, following the Danevirke westward until it met the Haervej, the old military road that would take them north to Limfjord. As far as they could tell, they were not followed.
The dusk deepened, throwing long shadows.
“We will travel until it is too dark to see anything,” Ingvar said. “We want to get as far away from Hedeby as we can before we stop.”
They moved off the path and into the shadow of the Danevirke to let a troop of armed men ride past them toward Hedeby. Asmund and Ingvar were busy with the restive horses and Freydis had her head down, but Lenora, curious as always, stole a glance at the men going by. She pushed back her face-concealing headscarf to see better, then caught her breath and clutched Ingvar’s waist more tightly.
There was no mistaking the red-gold hair and proud carriage of the woman who rode at the head of that troop, nor would Lenora ever forget the tall, thin man with unusually pale blond hair riding beside her. There was another, closely muffled female form, but Lenora, more concerned with those she had recognized and relieved that she and her companions had not been noticed, only cast a quick look at this second woman and then dismissed her. She had more important things to think about than other people’s slaves.
“Ingvar,” Lenora whispered urgently.
“What is it?” Ingvar spoke over his shoulder. “Don’t hold me so tightly. I can’t breathe.”
“Didn’t you see them? That was Gunhilde and her father.”
“What is Sven the Dark doing here?” Ingvar exclaimed.
“Sven? Going to Hedeby?” Asmund pulled his horse around so they all sat close together.
“With a small army,” Ingvar said. “That’s why Snorri didn’t come after us again. He was waiting for reinforcements.”
“I would wager my best brooches that Snorri knows which warehouse we were hiding in,” Freydis said bitterly. “With Sven’s men to help him, he will attack, hoping to take me captive and kill Erik. And Halfdan.”
“I’ll ride back to Hedeby and warn Erik.” Asmund gathered up the reins. “Get down, Fre
ydis.”
“No. Wait.” Lenora caught at the reins, pulling Asmund’s horse closer. “I have a better idea. Let me go.”
“Don’t be silly. A woman against those warriors?”
“If he could still speak, Hrolf would tell you I can fight as well as a man.” Lenora glared at Asmund, and in the dimming light she saw him grin. “Erik has charged you two with Freydis’ safety until she reaches Limfjord. You must stay with her to guard her.”
“We are to keep you safe, too, Lenora,” Ingvar said.
She ignored him. “Asmund, if you go riding off, you leave three of us with only one horse,” Lenora said. “What are we to do then?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I know. Now listen to me. I will go back on foot. No one will pay any attention to a woman hurrying home at day’s end. You three ride on as fast as you can. I will find Erik and Halfdan and warn them about Sven’s warriors. We will see Erik safely aboard ship, and then Halfdan and I will ride after you. We’ll catch up with you somewhere along the Haervej.”
“What do you think?” Asmund asked his friend.
“It’s a better idea than yours,” Ingvar told him.
“I think we should all go back,” Freydis said. “Then we will be four to help Erik against Snorri.”
“Freydis, he wants you out of Snorri’s reach.” Lenora’s voice was hoarse with tension and impatience. “There will be no trouble if I get there in time to warn Erik before Snorri attacks. The longer we sit here and talk, the better chance Snorri has to take Erik. And you know he won’t spare Halfdan either.”
Freydis bowed her head in silent assent. Lenora slid to the ground from her perch behind Ingvar.
“Good luck to you, Lenora.”
“And to you, Freydis.”
Lenora watched as the horses moved off into the gloom. Then, wrapping the woolen scarf more closely about her face, she set out for Hedeby.
Chapter 17
Lenora passed through Hedeby’s north gate by mingling with a group of people with carts who were arriving to trade. They were hurrying to reach the town before nightfall and thus paid no attention to her. Once inside the town she moved cautiously, not wanting to meet Snorri or any of his friends. She made her way to the waterfront and then found Holgar’s warehouse.
