“The Loch of the Monster,” Melcorka mused. “I wonder what strange creature lurks in there.”
“Let's hope we never find out.” Bradan tapped his staff on the ground. “I've seen enough monsters to last me for ever. On this side of the loch, we are in Alba. On the other side, the Norse have taken over. This loch is the border between what we know and what we don't. A good place for monsters to lie in wait.”
“Look above,” Melcorka said. “Ravens.”
The two birds of ill-omen quartered the sky, searching for prey.
“Stray birds?” Bradan wondered, “or did Erik Egilsson or some other Norseman send them to guard the frontier?”
“If it were Erik, he knows I am alive,” Melcorka said. “Things might get more difficult now.”
Bradan nodded. “Yes, after our easy journey so far. Now, we can either cross that loch or walk around it.”
“We could cross by boat,” Melcorka said, “if we had such a thing.”
“Well, we won't cross by standing looking.” Bradan tapped his staff on the ground. “Come on, Mel, let's see what the world brings us.”
Moving with care as they were so near the Norse frontier, they negotiated the slope to the banks of the loch. There were no boats along the shore, but one sailing the loch, with a single bank of oars pushing her through the water and a row of circular shields along the gunwale.
“A Norse dragon ship.” Melcorka nodded to the curved prow with the open-jawed dragon as a figurehead. “The enemies of my blood.” Her hand twitched above the hilt of Defender.
“We are not here to fight the Norse,” Bradan reminded her gently. “Mael Coluim will deal with them. Our enemy is far worse than a mere Norse raider.”
Melcorka took a deep breath, withdrawing her hand from the sword. “I have no love for the Norse since they killed my mother.”
“I know that,” Bradan said.
They watched the dragon ship as it slowly rowed down the length of the loch until it was out of sight to the southwest. The ripples it raised washed over the rounded stones at the lochside for a few moments, then died away.
“There's somebody down by the water's edge,” Bradan said.
“Norsemen?” Melcorka felt almost hopeful as she reached for Defender.
“No. A group of women,” Bradan said. “Over there.” He gestured with his chin.
“What are they doing?” Melcorka mused.
Four of the women were carrying something in a wickerwork cage, something pale and white that moved and made low moaning sounds. The women struggled over the uneven ground, with one or other stopping to poke a stick at the object within the cage.
“It's a child,” Melcorka's hands tightened on the hilt of Defender. “They have a child in that cage. What are they going to do?”
“Nothing good, I'd say.” Bradan lengthened his stride to cover the ground at a faster pace.
“It's not a child,” Melcorka said as they came closer to the group. “It's a young woman.”
Stepping on to a large rock that protruded over a dark pool in the loch, the women began to chant, hauling the cage closer to the water's edge. The captive struggled desperately to get free, making piteous moaning noises that raised the small hairs on the back of Bradan's neck.
“She must have broken the law, or seduced the wrong husband,” Bradan said. “They're going to drown her into the loch.”
“No, they're not.” Melcorka began to run, powering down the tangled slope with Defender bouncing on her back.
“Halloa!” She raised her voice in a shout that echoed across the darkening waters of the loch. “Halloa down there!”
Despite the noise they were making, one of the women heard Melcorka's shout, for she looked around, with the others following. Eighteen eyes gleamed towards Melcorka, with the young woman within the cage wailing, kicking desperately at the crude bars of her prison with her bound feet. Melcorka saw she had a rag stuffed in her mouth and that her ankles and wrists were tied together with crude cords of heather.
“What are you doing?” Melcorka pushed through the crowd to the captive in the wicker cage. She was about 16 years old, well made, with a tangle of blonde hair that nearly obscured her face. She was also clearly terrified, with tears in her wide eyes.
“We're sacrificing this slave to the monster.” The oldest of the woman spoke as naturally as if she was talking about washing her clothes.
Pushing past the women, Melcorka shoved her hands between the bars of the cage and gently untied the gag from the captive's mouth. “A human sacrifice? In this day and age? We know that even the Druids did not do such things.”
The slave wriggled against the wickerwork, her eyes darting from side to side as she pleaded for her life. “No,” she said. “Please.” She was squeezed inside the cage, unable to either sit or stand in comfort with the bars pressing cruelly into her naked flesh.
“What has she done wrong?” Melcorka noticed an array of bruises and partly healed cuts on the captive's body.
“She is a slave,” the woman said, as if that explained everything. “If we give her to the monster, it will not harm us.”
Bradan stood a few paces behind Melcorka, holding his staff horizontally in front of him, watching the women, with the thought of sacrificing a young life sickening him. Man of peace though he was, he felt a strong desire to lay about him with his staff. He knelt beside the cage and put his head close to that of the captive. “It'll be all right now,” he said quietly. “You won't be hurt.”
“Have any of you ever seen this monster?” Melcorka perched herself on top of the cage, with Defender draped over the far side, within easy reach. She smiled pleasantly.
“I've seen it,” a thin-faced, dark-eyed woman said. “A horrible creature with huge fangs.”
“Did it attack you?” Melcorka glanced over her shoulder, as if fearful that the creature might rise from the waves.
The woman nodded vigorously. “I had to run to escape.” The other women joined in, most of them claiming some personal experience of witnessing the monster.
“That sounds bad,” Melcorka said. “How many people has it eaten?” She felt the captive move within her cage.
“None.” The dark-eyed woman said. “We make sure of that.”
“Oh? How?” Melcorka asked innocently.
“We satisfy its hunger with slaves,” the woman said triumphantly.
“I see.” Melcorka nodded. “Well, not with this one.” She tapped her heels against the cage. “You are not going to sacrifice this woman, drown her, stab her, or hurt her in any manner.”
“You cannot stop us,” the dark-eyed woman said. “It is the old way.”
“What do you mean, the old way?” Melcorka asked.
“We fed the monster when our grandmother's great-grandmothers were children,” the woman said. “Then the saints came and chased the monster away. Now it has returned, and we have to sacrifice again, or it will take us one by one.”
“When did it return?” Bradan asked.
“Last year,” the woman said. “Or the year before.”
Bradan looked at Melcorka. “About the time the Butcher began his killings. About the time the Norse raiding party released this evil on the world. They are all connected, Melcorka.”
“So we must sacrifice this slave to the beast,” the woman had been listening to the conversation with no comprehension.
“But not today,” Melcorka said cheerfully. “And not tomorrow. This woman will live to see another day, and perhaps another 50 years, if luck smiles upon her.”
More women had joined the original group, with a scattering of men at the fringes, waiting to see what the women did before they acted.
“You have a longsword and your man a long staff,” the dark-eyed woman said, “but there are many of us and only two of you.”
“So I see.” Melcorka slid off the cage. “Let's see what happens next, shall we?” Unsheathing Defender, she sliced open the cords that fastened the cage together.
“Out you come, youngster!”
Crying with the pain of cramped muscles, the captive rolled towards freedom, but was unable to stand. Reaching down, Melcorka hauled her bodily out of the cage and cut her bonds. “There we go. Stand there while I talk to these women.”
“Come on now.” Taking off his cloak, Bradan draped it over the ex-captive. “We won't let them hurt you.”
Melcorka expected the rush as the women charged forward. She stepped forward to meet them, holding Defender before her as Bradan left the ex-captive and swung his staff, knee-high, to act as a barrier. One woman stumbled over it, another sidestepped, collided with her colleague and both fell, while the others avoided the staff altogether.
Melcorka met them with the flat of her blade, swinging left and right, pushing the attackers off the rock and into the dark waters of the loch.
“Now the monster can feed!” Melcorka yelled, laughing as her attackers hesitated, with the men first to turn away and the dark-eyed woman urging them on. From a safe distance, one of the older men lifted a stone and threw it towards Melcorka.
“You!” Melcorka pointed to the dark-eyed woman. “You are brave when trying to drown slaves or encouraging others to fight. Come and face me! If you win, you can throw me into the loch as a sacrifice.”
“I'll face you!” the dark-eyed woman said. Dropping her cloak, she stepped forward. “Drop the sword and fight me.”
“Fair is fair.” Melcorka sheathed Defender, unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to Bradan. “Come on then!”
The dark-eyed woman advanced slowly, with her hands extended and fingers like claws. She slashed at Melcorka's face, sneered as Melcorka withdrew sharply, and aimed a kick at the prominent scar on Melcorka's left thigh. Dropping to a crouch, Melcorka caught the woman's ankle, lifted it high and pushed. The woman fell backwards and screamed.
“Get her! She's not got a sword! Drown her!”
Recovering their courage, the women, again reinforced by a handful of men, rushed forward, some picking up stones to use as weapons, others with their mouth open in a formless scream.
Running to Melcorka's side, Bradan stood ready with his staff, in time for Melcorka to lift the dark-eyed woman and throw her into the loch.
“I forgot you picked up many tricks in the Chola Empire.” Bradan handed Defender back to Melcorka.
“You are still 20 to two.” A stout, middle-aged woman lifted a stone in each hand. “You can't defeat us all!”
“It's 20 to three.” The captive woman stood at Melcorka's other side. Despite the tearstains on her face, she appeared determined to help as she picked up a fist-sized stone.
“You can run, my friend,” Melcorka murmured. “You do not have to stay here.”
“I will fight at your side.”
“As you wish.”
Staying out of range of Defender and Bradan's staff, the women began to throw stones, most of which fell well wide and others that Melcorka swatted with Defender. Only when one jagged rock hit the slave did Bradan swear.
“I've had enough of this. Come on, Mel!” Running forward, he swung his staff at the women, scattering them as Melcorka and the slave joined him. Their attack had the desired effect, with the crowd splintering before them. The blonde slave threw her stone after the running women.
Lifting the women who had fallen, Melcorka and Bradan threw them into the loch, found the dark-headed woman crawling back ashore and tossed her as far into the water as they could.
“Now what are we going to do with you?” Bradan addressed the slave woman, who stood awkwardly, pulling Bradan's cloak tight around her.
“Well,” Bradan said, the first thing is to get her some clothes. I need my cloak.” Wading into the loch, he grabbed one of the women who were trying to get back to land, stripped her of her leine and handed it to the slave. “Put that on. It will soon dry.”
Melcorka sheathed Defender, watching the direction in which the woman had come. “I think we should walk westward now and find a boat, or something to cross the loch. How about you?”
“May I come with you? Who are you?” The slave gave a small bob of respect.
“You may not. I am Melcorka, and this is Bradan. What is your name?”
“I am Thyra. Please take me with you. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Where are you from? Not this part of Alba with your hair-colouring.”
Thyra drew herself up to her full height, so the top of her head nearly reached Melcorka's chin. “I am Norse. I am Thyra, daughter of Frida, daughter of Estrid.”
“Good,” Bradan said. “Well Thyra, daughter of Frida, daughter of Estrid, we are heading into Norse territory. Perhaps we will take you so you can find your people. How did you become a slave?”
“The Alban raiders captured me as I was washing clothes on the shore of the loch,” Thyra said. “They were going to sacrifice me to the beast.”
“So we gathered,” Bradan said as they walked along the shore, searching for a boat to cross to the far side.
“It is a horrible creature.” Now that she was free, Thyra seemed determined to talk.
“Have you seen it?” Melcorka asked.
“Oh, yes,” Thyra said. “It's ancient, according to my mother Frida, and very evil, and it lives deep underwater.”
“Ah,” Bradan said. “Where did you see it?”
“I saw it when it came out of the water to feed. It was above the water, a great horrible thing, dark as night, and when it came out, everything became cold.”
Bradan listened, not sure whether he should believe Thyra.
“I can't see it now.” Melcorka scanned the loch. “So as soon as we find a boat, we can cross the loch.” She looked at Thyra. “Did the Alban raiders come by boat? If so, it might be nearby, and we can borrow it.”
Thyra nodded. “Yes. A six-oared galley but I don't know where it's berthed.”
“There will be other boats.” Bradan slid down to the stony shore of the loch. He did not mention the ravens that still circled above or the grey woman he saw watching them from the shelter of a copse of trees. Despite the ministrations of the People of Peace and the Druids, he was unsure if Melcorka had fully recovered yet.
“Look – what's that ahead?” Thyra pointed to what looked like dun-coloured lumps floating close to the shore.
Bradan trotted ahead, holding his staff like a weapon. “It's our way across the loch,” he said. “That was very lucky.”
The sheepskins bobbed on the surface of the water in the lee of a single-log boom. Already sewn and inflated, they would act as a float, if nothing else.
“The raiders use them sometimes,” Thyra said. “They cross to our side of the loch and kill our people.”
Bradan eyed them, thought of the legends about this loch and wondered if his optimism was correct. At least, he told himself, we will leave that grey woman behind unless she can swim.
“Those will do,” Melcorka said. “They will support us as we swim across the loch.”
“What about the monster?” Thyra asked.
“If we see it, I'll worry about it then,” Melcorka said. Bradan nodded in satisfaction when he saw Melcorka touch the hilt of Defender. She was nearly herself again.
“I don't want to escape being a sacrifice only to be eaten anyway.” Thyra looked nervously at the dark surface of the water.
“You won't be.” Melcorka said cheerfully. “I promise you that no monster will eat you as we cross the loch.”
“Will you make that promise to me as well?” Bradan asked, but Melcorka only smiled and shook her head.
The water was colder than Melcorka expected for the time of year, and thoughts of the monster entered her head the instant she kicked off. “Stay near, Thyra,” she said, reaching out her hand.
Giving a nervous smile, Thyra tried her best, pushing the clumsy sheepskin float beside Melcorka, only for a trick of the current to spin it away.
Once in the water, the distance to the far shore seemed vast, however energet
ically Melcorka tried to swim. The sheepskin was not the easiest thing to try to control, while the current pushed her towards a formidable dun further north, where the Norse had a garrison. She saw Thyra drift in that direction and dragged her back, just as she heard a low, whining sound across the surface of the water.
“Did you hear that, Bradan?” Thyra asked.
“I heard it,” Bradan said. “It”s just the wind on the waves, nothing to worry about.” He looked at Melcorka, who gestured to Defender.
“Keep going.” Melcorka tried to sound cheerful. “We're halfway over already.”
The waves increased in height as they moved towards the centre of the loch, while the fading light magnified Melcorka's sensation of unease.
“I can feel something,” Thyra said.
“It”s all right,” Bradan said. “Keep moving, and we'll be all right.”
“Something's beneath us!” Thyra's voice rose in panic, and she tried to lift herself out of the water and further on to the sheepskin, succeeding only in floundering face-first into the loch. Melcorka held her still.
“Keep calm,” Melcorka said. “I'll have a look.” She glanced at Bradan. “Take her across the loch, Brad.”
“You take care,” Bradan said. “You're not yourself yet.” But Melcorka had already drawn Defender and, taking a deep breath, she dived under the surface of the loch.
The water was darker than Melcorka expected, with weed and other vegetable matter floating close to the surface. She pushed herself down, keeping her eyes open for anything unusual. A shoal of fish flashed past, swimming fast.
Something frightened them, Melcorka told herself. There is something else down here as well as fish. As her lungs began to burn through lack of oxygen, Melcorka surfaced again and took a great gulp of air. Checking that Bradan and Thyra were still safe and heading for the north-western shore, Melcorka dived back underwater. Thrusting Defender before her like a lance, she swam in a circle, seeing nothing living in the murky loch except frightened fish. She surfaced again, took a deep breath and gasped when something coiled around her left leg.
Loki's Sword Page 15
