Chapter Fourteen

 

A jumble of sullen faces turned towards Thorvald the next morning when he stepped from his tent. He glanced around, a frisson of disquiet tickling his spine. Nasi, Jon, and the rest of his crew glared at him in the weak dawn light. Only Arni and Halldor hung back, Arni with an apologetic look on his face and Halldor a calculating one, as if he waited to see what happened before choosing sides.

“Does she come with us to Agdir?” Nasi stepped forward and pointed towards Gisela’s tent. “A few days ago, the Sea Queen almost sank with her and her women on board. Don’t you remember that?”

“But it didn’t, so why do you worry about that now?” Thorvald made his voice reasonable, not wishing to stir further unrest.

“If she comes, we’ll leave you here and find our own way from Hedeby.”

“You’ve wanted to return home, now we are. We’re only days of travel away. We’ll be in sight of land the whole time. What is there to fear?”

“What if Aegir still wants her? Then it doesn’t matter how close to land we sail for we trespass on his sea.”

“Aegir doesn’t want her. He let us pass before.”

“We’re not willing to take that chance.” Nasi gestured to the men standing with him. “You must leave her behind or we’ll not man your ship.”

“The Sea Queen has always proved her worth and she will continue to do so.”

“Nay. You’re a fool to risk the journey with the slave. We’ll not be part of it.”

Huzzahs of agreement met Nasi’s words and he surveyed the men standing around him, nodding all the while. Smugness oozed like greasy muck from his very pores, putting Thorvald’s teeth on edge.

“You fear a slave woman? What fine warriors you’ve become.” Scorn filled Thorvald’s voice and irritation curled his lip. “I leave as soon as we strike camp. You have until then to make your choice.” His right fist clenched. If only he had Silver Tooth, he could enforce his command over his men and no one would dare to rebel.

He turned away, back rigid and seemingly unconcerned. Inside, anger seethed. He welcomed the anger; it kept dejection at bay. The Sea Queen, a battle ship, needed thirty men to row. Even with her sail hoisted, he required the full number to maneuver the vessel through the waves.

How could he find men to serve as crew when he had not a coin to his name?

“What do you want to do?” Arni sidled over and gestured Halldor to join them. “Halldor sides with us. He misses his wife.” He jabbed Halldor in the ribs with an elbow and guffawed. Halldor shoved him back, sending the much shorter Arni sprawling to the ground.

“Pack up.” Thorvald flipped back the flap of his tent and grabbed the furs making up his bed.

Arni got to his feet. “You know I’m not talking about that. We can’t set sail with only the three of us and two slave women.”

“Women can wield an oar as easily as a man.” He rolled up the furs and tied them with a leather thong.

“And you man the tiller, so that leaves four of us for the oars.”

“Don’t forget the two we left to guard the ship.”

“Six then. It still isn’t enough.”

Thorvald turned. “Be still, Arni. I know we’re in a tough situation but I’ll not let them,” he gestured with his chin to the few men still standing around Nasi, the rest having drifted off once the hoped for altercation didn’t come to pass, “see our distress. We return to the Sea Queen as planned.”

“I hope you have some idea as to what we’re going to do,” muttered Arni, “because I don’t. I don’t know why you don’t sell her, get what you can for her and be done with this.”

Thorvald didn’t answer, instead continued dismantling his tent. A solution to his dilemma with the Sea Queen tickled his conscience, but he hadn’t the fortitude to meet it head on—it meant yet again giving up something he held dear.

Instead, why didn’t he sell Gisela as Arni suggested?

He faced the truth: because she intrigued him, baffled him, attracted him. Because the more he spent time with her, the less he knew about her. Because she was different and he didn’t know if a Viking woman would suit him after his time away.

But mostly because she was a challenge that, once crested, would be magnificent.

Enough. He shook his head. Enough on Gisela.

First, he decided, he would leave Hedeby behind. It had not been the pleasant, profitable diversion for him as hoped.

Then he would deal with how to get home with an undermanned longship while at the same time keeping Gisela from harm.

 

* * *

 

The journey west back to the Sea Queen passed much quicker than the journey east to Hedeby. Despite their late start due to dismantling camp, without the men on foot to slow them down, they crossed the peninsula in good time. The sun just began to set as they arrived, a brilliant blaze painting the clouds with bands of orange and scarlet.

Puzzlement framed the weathered faces of Bork and Magnus, the two left behind, as Thorvald and his small group pulled up to the beached ship.

“Where are the others?” Bork peered around Thorvald, as if he could find the rest of the crew hidden behind him. Obviously he suspected Thorvald of foul play, for he backed away a few steps, his thin frame stiff with suspicion.

“They’re not coming. They decided the delights of Hedeby were worthy of several more days. But we,” Thorvald slid off his horse, handing the reins to Arni, “are returning to Agdir.”

“How? We can’t sail with our small number,” Magnus piped up, voice hoarse and eyes bloodshot as if he had spent the last few days consuming nothing but ale and wine.

Which he probably had, surmised Thorvald. The beach had few attractions. So much the better, for it would mean the two would be bored and anxious to leave and therefore more inclined to go along with him. “I think we can.”

Bork frowned and grabbed his knife. “You toy with us.” He looked to Magnus, who put his fist on the hilt of the knife tucked in his belt before nodding in agreement.

“I’ll return the horses to the hostler,” said Arni, as if sensing a disagreeable discussion coming up.

“Do that.” Thorvald nodded. “Don’t let the man trick you with demands for further payment. We agreed upon a set sum at the time of hiring and he is paid.”

Arni waved to Halldor. “Bring up the ox cart.” He trotted off towards the hostler’s hut with its corral of woven saplings, holding all three horses by the reins.

“I have the means to get us back to Agdir.” Thorvald pulled out his own knife and made a great show of running his finger down its shiny blade before looking at Bork. “Have I failed you in the past?” He must convince Bork, for where Bork trod, Magnus followed.

“Nay.” Bork agreed.

“Do you not have a chest full of coins and other fine things to bring home with you?”

“Aye.” Bork agreed again, resentment showing in the set of his olive green eyes as he began to understand where Thorvald’s questions led him.

“Would you prefer to stay here?” Thorvald swept both arms to encompass the dunes and the beach. “As you can see, there is a woman behind every tree, just begging for your attention.”

Magnus guffawed, barrel belly shaking with the force of it. “Woman behind every tree? There are no trees.”

Thorvald chuckled. “Nothing escapes you, my friend.”

“I don’t see how the few we are will manage to take the Sea Queen home. How do you mean to hire men? There aren’t enough here to fill every oar.” Bork remained bullish.

“True.” Of course, Bork and Magnus had no idea of what had passed in Hedeby and that Thorvald couldn’t hire men, even if he had the wherewithal to do so.

“What sorcery do you have in mind to make it so?”

“Wait and see.”

Thorvald’s cryptic answer didn’t satisfy Bork. His eyes narrowed and his jaw jutted and he swept Thorvald up and down with a searching glance.

“If you think you can find another way home, do it.” Thorvald shrugged as if he had no care what Bork and Magnus chose to do. The seconds ticked by but Thorvald kept his face blank. No need to let them know how much he actually relied on their compliance. They’d already earned enough riches, the promise of more wasn’t necessary. He could only hope they were ready to go home and would consent with his idea to get there.

“Very well.” Bork nodded and Magnus, after a sideways glance at Bork, began to nod too, jowls shaking with the force of it. “We’ll stay with you. But no tricks, or you’ll have my axe to answer to.”

“No tricks.” Thorvald turned and walked away, relief turning his stomach to mush. Now he could deal with his plan for the Sea Queen. Not one he cared to follow, but losing his crew left him with no choice.

 

* * *

 

At Halldor’s curt nod, Gisela and Bertrada tumbled from the cart. They stood there, stretching the stiffness and discomfort of the journey from their muscles while they watched the cart lurch away, with Halldor urging the ox on with a well placed kick every now and again when the beast slowed.

“I’ve had enough of travels,” said a weary Bertrada. “I welcome the day I can sit by the fire and tend to my mending.”

Gisela nodded. “Aye, ’tis tiring to be always on the move.”

She turned her head at the sound of raised voices. Red-faced, Thorvald clashed with the two men who had guarded the longship while the rest were in Hedeby. They spoke loudly and quickly in the Norse language and, although by now she understood a few words, she couldn’t follow the conversation. Finally, though, the two men nodded and Thorvald strode off towards his longship.

She pointed to him, with his shoulders slouched and hands jammed in the pockets of his long sleeved woolen tunic. “Where does he go? He looks as if he carries an unseen burden.”

“I don’t know.” Bertrada shook her head. “Perhaps he worries about the men left behind. The number of men he has here doesn’t seem enough to sail the ship.”

“Agreed. Or do you think they still argue about us?”

“I don’t know. But maybe not, considering I now belong to Arni. With you still belonging to Thorvald, they have two men to deal with if they mean to take us.”

“I still don’t know what Thorvald means to do with me,” said a gloomy Gisela. “Maybe he means to throw me to his gods.”

“Don’t be foolish.” Bertrada poked her. “I keep telling you, he desires you.”

“Maybe because he desires me and paid so much to regain me, it means I’ll be worth that much more to his gods.”

“Nonsense.”

Somehow I must show myself to have value to him, Gisela thought. I mean to live and I mean to return to Frisia, no matter what the green eyed Viking might want.

 

* * *

 

Thorvald walked up to the where the Sea Queen sat, perched on rollers on the beach. Her tail end already partly floated with the rising tide. He splashed knee deep into the surf to curl his fingers around the blade of her steering oar. Her sternpost, tipped with a carving of a snake’s coils, soared overhead but the top of her strakes sat about eye level and he admired the sleek lines as it gently curved out then in towards the stem with its carved snake’s head.

“Dear friend,” he whispered, “you’ve served me well, but I have no means of bringing you home.” He stroked her chiseled oak planks. How well she moved with the waves and how easily she maneuvered up rivers. “Too, I’ve no need for your skills anymore. I will soon quit the warring way to live out my life in peace on my own farmstead and you deserve to be used for what you were built for.”

His chest tightened at the thought of what he meant to do with his ship. It seemed he lost everything he held dear. Some not of his doing, like Sun Meadow, but others of his own choice—Silver Tooth and soon Sea Queen. Nay, not everything. He still had Gisela. Even though he’d already decided he couldn’t sell her, she held value. Perhaps he would sell her when he solved the mystery of her hold over him.

Others might think him a fool for returning to Agdir when the cloud of guilt hung over him, but to keep running made him a coward. Hadn’t all his years of raiding been to clear his name? Perhaps he’d lost the restitution he’d fought so hard to acquire, but Gisela had given him the answer of how to prove his innocence in the jarl’s murder without it.

Now he must use his strength to follow through.