Lord of Hawkfell Island

by Catherine Coulter

  “You survived and that is what is important. With luck, both of us will continue to survive. Thank you, Entti.”

  And that was that. Mirana sat opposite her on the narrow wooden plank, both women drawing on their oars together. It took a while to gain a rhythm, but they’d at last managed it. Each draw took them farther and farther away. Soon they would reach the mouth of the estuary and the North Sea. Two women rowing a warship. It would be difficult, near to impossible, but Mirana knew they would manage somehow.

  Entti said, “I found it amusing when the women took their revenge, and I wanted desperately to help them, but how could I? I was naught but a blank-brained child. They were so furious when their husbands took me, but they never blamed me, particularly Asta. Even she showed me no dislike or blamed me for Gurd’s infidelity. I disliked him more than any of the others. But then Amma’s plan, and what they did to the men until Rorik made his threat! I heard Amma talking to some of the other women of your idea, but then Rorik made his threat immediately, giving it no time to work.”

  “Aye,” Mirana said. “I wondered why he did it so soon. He didn’t even eat any of the porridge that next morning, and it was very very good, Entti.”

  Entti chuckled. “I saw him go to his sleeping chamber when Amma and Old Alna were in there with you. He didn’t enter, but just paused outside. I believe he overheard you and the women making your new plans. He knew he had to act quickly and so he did. He isn’t a stupid man.”

  “There will be no more rebellions, Entti. All the women know he whipped me even though they don’t know why he did it. It was enough to make them forgo any more thoughts of defiance. ’Tis a pity and yes, Rorik is many things, but he isn’t stupid.”

  “Mayhap he was this time. We have escaped him. By the gods, Mirana, we listened to him and his men calling us naught but women, small and helpless and insignificant as insects. Aye, this time we’ve won.” Entti looked heavenward for a moment, then said, “Why did Rorik whip you?”

  “It was silly, really. I was too proud to bend, and that’s the truth of it. Oddly enough, he was very careful not to hurt me.” Mirana added, shaking her head, “Naturally, he blamed me for making him have to whip me.”

  “Men,” Entti said, “they behave as if they actually believe what they do is right. It is astounding that they can be so blind.”

  “Lucky for you that they are, my friend.”

  “Aye, if you would wish to regard my captivity in that light. I was lucky. I survived to escape.”

  They rowed in silence, for their breaths were beginning to hitch with the strain. It was nearly impossible for the two of them to keep the warship exactly on the right course. They had to make constant corrections, and it was exhausting.

  Mirana said, “I know weapons and have a certain skill with a knife and a sword. If only there had been time, if only Rorik hadn’t overheard our plan. All the women need is the proper training, for they have grit and heart. A man whose parts or whose throat is threatened by an agile hand wielding a knife isn’t a man to go against his honor, to spite his wife.”

  “Mirana?”

  “Aye?”

  “You would have them gullet the men? Nay, don’t answer. I like it very much. I can see Amma sitting atop Sculla, a knife pricking his throat. Except, of course, Sculla is a faithful hound. He loves her, nay, he worships that woman. Raki is the same. Poor Erna has but one good arm, yet it makes no difference to him or to their sons. She is a good woman.”

  “If we both still live on the morrow, tell me that again.”

  “We will be alive,” Entti said, and for a while, at least, Mirana was content to believe her.

  It was sheer happenstance. Askhold had forgotten a skin water bag and had returned to the warship to fetch it before they set out to journey inland at dawn the following morning.

  Both warships were gone.

  “Gone?” Rorik repeated, staring blankly at Askhold.

  “Aye, both of them.”

  “No accident,” Hafter said.

  Gurd said, “She did it. The woman is cunning and treacherous as a snake. Rorik is right. She has a brain. She thinks like a man. She did it. I will strangle her skinny white neck when we catch her.”

  Rorik nodded, feeling rage flow over him, but mingled with that rage was respect. She was good, very good.

  “But she still has to worry about Entti,” Hafter said. “That will slow her. By Thor’s hammer, if she harms Entti, I’ll strangle the witch myself. My poor Entti, so helpless against such as her. She probably doesn’t understand what is happening. Ah, the woman has much to answer for, Rorik.”

  “But I wonder if she could make Entti row?” Rorik said to no one in particular. “It is impossible for one man to row a warship.”

  “And she is still naught but a small female, despite all her ploys,” said Gurd. “And she must control Entti as well. Entti is simple, Hafter, but she must realize sooner or later that the woman isn’t her friend. Perhaps she will slow the woman. ’Twill not take us long to get her back.”

  “We must find the other warship,” Rorik said, and they set off just as streaks of dawn were penetrating the thick foliage in the salt marsh.

  They found the warship run against a log near the shore nearly a mile distant. They were sweating and filthy from walking in the bog. They rowed to the mouth of the estuary very quickly, scenting their victory. When they reached the sea, there was nothing in sight.

  Rorik hadn’t really imagined that she would be here, perhaps run aground, but nonetheless he felt a shaft of fear and disappointment.

  “Where did she go?” Hafter said.

  “Back to Ireland,” Rorik said. “Back to her damned bastard of a brother.”

  When the storm struck four hours later, Mirana and Entti were close to shore, staying just behind the breaking waves. Rain poured down, waves splashed over the sides of the warship, soaking them, the water resting in the bottom of the boat to lap over their feet. It was misery.

  “We must get ashore and find shelter,” Entti said finally, so tired, she thought her arms would surely break off. With the force of the rain and the wind, they were making little headway. The effort wasn’t worth any distance they were gaining.

  “Aye,” Mirana said. “There isn’t much of a choice now. The tide is tugging harder at us. I have no wish to be pulled out to sea.”

  “I have no wish to have the boat fill with water and sink. Mirana, they won’t find us. They were going inland to search. Don’t worry about Rorik. This time we have outsmarted him, we outsmarted all of the men.”

  “He’s clever,” Mirana said, looking behind her, but seeing nothing through the impenetrable gray sheets of rain. “He’s very clever and smart and shrewd.”

  They managed to run the warship ashore, but it took all their combined strength to pull it far enough onto the beach so it wouldn’t be whipped by the storm and the waves back out to sea.

  They stood there, breathing hard, their heads down, their arms dangling uselessly at their sides. The rain pounded down, but still they didn’t move.

  “It’s far enough in,” Mirana said at last, her chest still heaving. “If no one comes across it, it will be safe.”

  Entti only nodded. It really made no difference. Neither of them had any more strength to pull it further. It would remain where it was.

  “Let’s get under the trees. Those thick oaks will provide some shelter at least.”

  They huddled together as the storm raged overhead. The thick oak leaves did provide protection, but they were both soaked to the skin and there was naught they could do about it.

  “We cannot become ill,” Mirana said as she and Entti pressed as close together as possible. “We cannot.”

  The rain slowed to a drizzle in the early afternoon. The leaves overhead dripped on them, but it wasn’t bad.

  “I’m very hungry, Mirana,” Entti said.

  “I too. We will have to eat berries and roots. I know what things are safe to eat, so you do
n’t have to worry that I will poison us.”

  Entti gave a rich laugh. “Aye, you believed my fiction as well as everyone else. I cook very well, for I was the daughter of a jeweler who loves his food as much as his silver. It’s possible I know more than you since I am a bit older than you. Let us get on with our hunting.”

  They found strawberries and blueberries, not terribly ripe, but ripe enough. They also dug up some cadmus roots. Without its tough skin, the cadmus was mushy pulp that tasted like bland porridge.

  In the middle of the afternoon, the rain stopped, and the sun came out. It grew warm and soon their gowns were dry.

  “I would like to sleep for a full day,” Entti said, on a sigh, stretching. She felt her arms, stiff and sore. “How long will it take us to reach this fortress of yours?”

  “With just the two of us rowing? I don’t know.”

  “Then we’d best get to it.”

  They were just on the point of pushing the longboat back into the water, when there was a bloodcurdling yell. Two men were running down the beach toward them. They were wearing leggings and woolen trousers, and leather tunics. They were local Danes, and they’d seen two women and were doubtlessly overwhelmed with their unexpected find.

  “Can you use a weapon as well as you cook?” Mirana asked.

  “Nay, but I imagine that my fear will sharpen my skills. Give me the sword. I will have a better chance with something bigger.”

  “But let us try to fool them first,” Mirana said. “Aye, let us be simple helpless females.”

  She slipped the knife back into the pocket of her gown. Entti held the sword in the folds of her gown. Both women waited, not moving.

  The two men stopped some ten feet from them. They were young, well formed, and there were huge smiles on their faces.

  They called out a greeting.

  Mirana, looking as frightened as a young virgin, backed up a step, her face pale, her left hand fluttering helplessly in front of her.

  “We mean no harm,” the taller of the young men called out. “We’ve come to help you. We will take you with us.”

  “And the boat,” said the other man, short and muscular as a bull. “Aye, we’ll take the boat.”

  They walked toward the women, swaggering now, still smiling, their teeth gleaming white in the sunlight, as happy as two men could be having two lone women and a warship thrust into their waiting hands.

  “Hold yourself ready,” Mirana said, still shrinking back in fright, her face creditably pale.

  12

  “BY ALL THE blessed gods, what do you two women here? You are alone?”

  The older man’s eyes darted behind them, suddenly suspicious. There was a magnificent warship dragged out of the water onto the beach, but no men to have pulled it to safety from the storm, no men to have rowed it, no men in sight, that was.

  Mirana, who thought them heedless fools, nonetheless trembled as violently as a leaf tossed about in the wind, and shook her head. “We’re alone,” she whispered. “We have been so afraid.”

  An unseen enemy was forgotten at her soft words. The man grinned and walked to Mirana. No, it was more like a swagger, she thought, the ass. She made no move when he clasped her chin in his callused palm and lifted her face. He brought his face close to hers and she could see the pock marks on his skin. She doubted he was as old as those ugly marks made him look. He said in a tender voice, “Aye, little bird, you’re safe now. I’ll take you. I am called Odom and my younger brother yon is Erm. You’re quite beautiful. I have never before seen such hair—ah, the color, it’s as black as a raven’s belly. Is she your sister?”

  Entti wore the same frightened look as Mirana. She stuttered and trembled, and nodded as Mirana said yes. She and Mirana looked nothing alike, for Entti’s hair was a rich deep brown, her eyes an even darker brown—certainly not the green of Mirana’s—and she was tall for a woman, as tall as the man who was in front of her, certainly much taller than Mirana. But the men didn’t seem to notice all these differences, at least Mirana prayed they wouldn’t until it was too late. The man Odom, who was holding her, was built like a bull. He was clutching her to him now as if she were a treasure he feared losing. She gave him no resistance. She was limp and submissive.

  “Ah, Erm, look at the warship. It is well built. Our family will put it to fine use. But we, brother, we have found two beautiful women to ease us. I cannot believe our good fortune.”

  “Aye,” Erm said and released Entti. “This day the gods have smiled on us.” He actually rubbed his hands together as he strode toward the warship, saying over his shoulder, “Stay together, little birds. My brother and I will take care of you. You have no more reason to be afraid.”

  When Odom the bull moved off to join his brother, Entti said in a low voice to Mirana, “I’ll lay you a fine wager just how they’ll take care of us. What say you, Mirana?”

  “Let us wait until they are completely lulled, completely without suspicion. Then we will act.”

  Mirana gleaned from their talk that the brothers had wives and children and a farmstead just inland. The beach upon which they’d landed was just beyond the Thames estuary. The brothers were there to hunt, aye, just to hunt and perhaps to fish if there were no pheasant or wild pigs about. She saw them look at each other then, their expression sly. They were very pleased with themselves, that was obvious to see. They slapped each other on the back. Two new slaves, both young and lovely too. It was a treasure they’d found and all because of this trip down to the beach to fish. Aye, they were happy men.

  When they returned, Erm suddenly grabbed Entti, pulling her to him, and clutched wildly at her breasts. Obviously he’d looked his fill at his new warship and now he wanted the woman. She was soft and firm and he was eager, more than eager. He was ready to ravish her to his heart’s content. She was nearly as tall as he was, but he was the stronger. He was a man and he was her new master.

  He said into her face, his words meant for his brother, “Let’s sate ourselves with them now. I have no wish to argue with my wife. And our other men will want them. There will be trouble, but I am willing to fight for them.”

  “Aye,” said Odom as he smiled down at Mirana. “Please me and I’ll see you’re not abused. I’ll protect you from all the others. Aye, I’ll give you a new gown. This one you’re wearing is very ugly and old.”

  Entti heard Odom the bull’s words and very nearly laughed aloud.

  Mirana’s fingers itched and tingled, tightening about the knife. She was ready. She prayed that Entti wouldn’t panic.

  It happened quickly. Odom grabbed Mirana about her waist and flung her to the sand. He straddled her with his knees on each side of her waist, content for the moment just to stare down at his gift from the gods. He reached out his hand and began to fondle her breasts. She made no move, merely lay there, waiting, waiting. His breath came more quickly and she knew it wouldn’t be long now. It wasn’t. When he ripped up her gown and he fell atop her, he impaled himself on the knife she was clutching between her breasts. He reared up and stared down at her, blood bubbling from his shoulder, dripping down the knife handle onto her gown. He cried out, jerked back, and grabbed his shoulder. His fingers fluttered about the knife handle, but she could see he was afraid to pull it free of his flesh. Let him rot with it in him, she thought. She said nothing, merely waited. He could still kill her, despite the knife in his shoulder. She waited, silent and still.

  Odom threw back his head and yelled, his voice filled with both pain and astonishment at what she had done to him, “Erm! Help me!”

  Erm whirled about at his brother’s strangled cry. His hand was on Entti’s thigh, all his thoughts, all his concentration, on the soft flesh, on his lust, on how the woman wasn’t fighting him, how she was accepting him. He yelled back in surprise, then leapt off Entti and ran to his brother. At that instant, Entti jumped after him, and jabbed the sword in his side. He yelled louder than her father ever had when he’d been bested by another jeweler.

/>   “She is but one woman, Rorik,” Askhold said again, as if to reassure himself rather than Rorik or the others. “Entti is her prisoner. The woman has some hold over her, threatening her in some way, or promising her a better life with her brother. That, or Entti is just too simple to realize what is happening to her. If Mirana acted like her mistress, she might have just obeyed her blindly.”

  Hafter frowned. “This has already been discussed, Askhold. I’ve already rejected that. Entti’s not that simple. The woman is hurting her, she has managed to gain some hold on her. I don’t understand it, but it must be so.”

  “Not that it matters now,” Askhold said. “Two women alone—they had no chance. The storm was brief but very deadly. My arms feel as though they’ve been pulled from their sockets. There are only two of them to handle the warship. They had no chance, Rorik. They must be dead. Mayhap we’ll never find them.”

  Rorik stared at Askhold. He said only, “Nay. Mirana is smart. I have told all of you this again and again. Believe me now. She has managed, I know it. Despite Entti’s slowness, her simplicity, Mirana will survive. She would keep the warship close to shore. When the storm became too strong, she would beach it and wait for the weather to clear. Keep a sharp lookout, Gurd. We must have gained on them considerably.”

  It was Hafter who saw the warship.

  It was Rorik who saw the two men attack the women. He felt a curdling of fear in his belly, then he smiled, not at all surprised, when the man on Mirana reared back and fell onto his side, Hafter’s knife sticking from his shoulder. But he admitted to astonishment when he saw Entti leap to her feet, run after the other man, and ram Hafter’s sword into his side. She nearly missed, but she was strong, and the glancing blow carried enough force to knock the man down and make him yowl with pain.