Chapter Thirty-one               

T he small merchant vessel bearing Gabe and Áengus arrived in Portsmouth on the evening of the last day in October. The docks of that ordinarily bustling port city were eerily quiet. Having been informed by Captain Mallick what O’Brien’s team had encountered in Saint-Nazare, Gabe was on edge. He’d told Áengus privately, but not wishing to upset the crew, he’d opted not to say anything to the others. It seemed unlikely to him that the plague would have reached England so quickly, but the obvious agitation of the ship’s captain, a doughty Frank named Roland, gave him second thoughts.

“Wait here,” Roland ordered, as his men secured the boat to the dock. Gabe and Áengus, along with the seven other men on board, did as instructed. Gabe and Áengus exchanged worried glances, but neither spoke of their suspicion.

It was confirmed just after dark, when Roland returned from his investigation of the city. “Plague,” he said. “Half the city is sick.”

“Did you… come into contact with any of them?” Áengus asked, as Roland climbed onto the deck.

Roland shook his head. “I was waved off by a priest. All the trading houses are closed. We’ll have to return to Rouen.”

Groans went up from the crew. If their cargo was not delivered on time, they would forfeit most of their pay .

“There’s nothing I can do about it!” Roland snapped. “I can’t unload sixty cases of wine in a city overrun by plague.”

“We could continue to London,” one of the men suggested.

“I’ve got no contacts in London,” Roland said. “If we can’t sell this wine, we’ll be stuck in London without enough rations to get home. And as far as we know, the plague has hit London too. We’ll spend the night here and embark again in the morning.”

The men grumbled again, but it was clear the matter had been settled. They had a meal of watered-down ale and hard biscuits and bedded down for the night. While the men snored, Gabe and Áengus conversed quietly.

“Do you suppose it’s the same plague?”

“That would be my guess,” Gabe replied. “Occam’s razor.”

“Who?” Áengus replied.

“Sorry, four hundred years too early.”

“I thought O’Brien said they were spreading it over land.”

“These things are unpredictable,” Gabe said. “It would just take one infected traveler from Saint-Nazare to Portsmouth to start a whole new outbreak. The only thing we have going for us is that the virus acts so quickly and effectively that anyone who contracts it is unlikely to survive a trip from Frankia to England.”

“Apparently one did.”

“Either that or the Cho-ta’an got here ahead of us. Not sure which is worse.”

“We could try to find another ship to London,” Áengus suggested. They had planned to take an indirect route back to Reykjavik in any case, hoping to confuse any spies Harald might have looking for them. Their urgency to help Reyes deal with the threat from Torben had to be balanced by the need for secrecy.

“Doesn’t look like there are any ships. We could go overland, but that would be dangerous. The nanobots will protect me, but…”

“Yes, yes, you’ve told me about this magic protection from disease you have. We mortals remain vulnerable.”

Gabe shrugged. Áengus liked to tease him about the spacemen’s “magic,” and Gabe had tired of correcting him. The fact was, Gabe didn’t really understand how the nanobots worked either. As far as he was concerned, they were magic.

“Returning to Rouen is also dangerous, is it not?” Áengus asked.

“It’s probably our best bet, under the circumstances. As far as we know, the Cho-ta’an spreading the virus is still a couple hundred miles west of Paris. The plague won’t spread as fast over land as it will over sea. We should have a few days in Rouen, at least, to secure passage to Iceland.”

Not long after, the two men joined the others in slumber. At dawn, the ship set out again. Riding a steady wind out of the west, they arrived again at Rouen shortly after dark. Gabe and Áengus accompanied the crew to a tavern near the docks, which was already abuzz with word of the plague. It seemed a pilgrim had recently returned home to his estate near Rouen, having stopped briefly in Lyon on the way. He had planned to stay longer in Lyon but having found the city ravaged by plague, he hurried northward. That was one week ago. From the secondhand accounts Gabe overheard, the symptoms were the same as those O’Brien had described.

“Was the pilgrim sick?” Áengus asked the man who’d been speaking.

The man shook his head. “Seemed healthy to me.”

“He must have avoided contact with the citizens,” Áengus said.

Gabe nodded uncertainly. “Maybe,” he said, but he couldn’t help wondering if there was another explanation.

*****

They spent the night at a nearby inn. Gabe paid extra for a private room, as Harald undoubtedly had spies in Rouen looking for them. They were running low on silver, since Roland had demanded full payment for their voyage to Portsmouth, but Gabe didn’t want to risk being abducted in the middle of the night by Harald’s men. Most likely, Harald’s spies would simply watch them, hoping he would lead them back to their base, but Gabe would not put it past Harald to abduct them and torture them for information. If, as Sigurd had believed, Harald intended to come to Normandy, he might even interrogate them in person.

Gabe contacted Andrea Luhman after arriving at the inn to let Carpenter know they were going to be delayed in their return. Carpenter would pass the information along to Reyes, who was busy preparing to defend Höfn from a potential assault. The houses had been finished, and Reyes had redirected most of the settlers’ efforts into making spears and shields. Others hunted, fished or traveled to the other settlements in the area to buy food and other provisions for winter. So far, Adelmund had been successful in keeping the peace, but relations among the various settlements in the region were strained by accusations that Reyes had bribed Adelmund to favor the interests of Höfn. Many influential people in the area had begun to agitate for an investigation of Torben’s claim of a secret gold mine, and Reyes continued to refuse to allow any outsiders access to their land.

Gabe and Áengus arose at dawn the next morning, hoping to find a ship bound for London or one of the port cities along the Frankish coast to the east, but the docks were in a state of confusion. No captain wanted to embark on a voyage until more was known about the plague. Gabe and Áengus were effectively stuck in Rouen.

“We could travel upriver,” Áengus suggested as they stood on the dock, listening to sailors argue. “I hear Paris is nice.”

“Paris is about to be attacked by Vikings,” Gabe said.

“Well, yes,” Áengus replied. “But the Vikings lose, don’t they?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Gabe replied. “Assuming we haven’t screwed up history just by being here. In any case, it’s not the safest place to be right now.”

“We may not have much choice,” Áengus said, eyeing a group of armed men standing on the shore. The men were doing a poor job of pretending they weren’t watching Gabe and Áengus.

“Agreed,” Gabe said. “We can’t stay here. If we can get to Paris, maybe we can travel the Seine farther south.”

“And then what? I thought we were in a hurry to get back to Iceland. ”

“At present, this is the fastest way. The Seine doesn’t go through Lyon, does it?”

“No, it turns east south of Paris. It skirts Lyon by a hundred miles or more.”

“Then we should be safe. We’ll travel south to Troyes or one of the other major cities and they try to hook up with a caravan heading east. Maybe sail the Rhine back up to the North Sea.”

“That could take a month,” Áengus protested.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Gabe said. “Just remember, that plague is a much bigger danger to you than it is to me.”

Áengus sighed. “If it’s what we have to do, it’s what we have to do.” He walked down the dock, and Gabe followed him, navigating his way through the chaos and bustle of agitated seamen. Áengus made several inquiries and was eventually pointed to a small boat at the end of the dock. Gabe cast occasional glances behind them, but he’d lost the three men in the crowd.

They arrived at the small sail boat. A young man lay on his back in the prow, his arms behind his head, watching them approach. Áengus asked the man whether he was headed for Paris. A bemused expression came over the man’s face. “Indeed I am,” he said. “I’ll be departing shortly, as soon as the rest of my crew returns.”

“Would you happen to have room for two more? We can pay for our passage.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary,” the young man said, getting carefully to his feet. “We’ll be happy to have the company.”

As he spoke, Gabe felt something sharp against his ribs. A glance back told him the three men had found them. One of them held a knife to Áengus’s back as well.

“Ah, here they are now!” the young man exclaimed. “All aboard, then. We have our crew, and we have our quarry. I must say, that was easier than I expected.”

Gabe was given a shove, and he stumbled into the boat.