“I know.” His voice caught. He stared at the oar in his lap, nodding mutely.
“It would be stupid of me to try and destroy something that beautiful, something that brings you two—two people who I love dearly—such joy. For all their lives.”
Then her throat closed up so tightly that it hurt. She was done with words. She picked up her oar and fitted it in the oarlock.
Grieving, Dyrfinna began rowing. Skeggi joined in. They didn’t speak.
The Child-Killers
The sun was up. The dragon-headed longship, with its hole repaired, was underway again, crowded with Vikings talking, a couple of them guffawing at some joke in the back of the ship.
Dyrfinna fought to stay awake at the oars as they rowed the ship into the ocean, the great red sail luffing in the fitful breeze. Once the ship was far enough out to catch the sea wind, the sail billowed out and the ship leaned. With a cheer, the rowers brought the oars rattling in, and the boat was sailing along once more.
The old captain, laughing, pointed where he’d hung the lucky boot from the mast. “May it keep us safe through all our voyages!” he cried. The Vikings cheered and slapped each other’s back and drank to the boot.
Hakr, the old captain, raised an eyebrow at Dyrfinna as she came over. “Why, I do believe somebody’s been burning the midnight oil.”
“Burning’s a good word for it,” she said wearily.
“Great Odin, did you fall in the fire?” he asked, looking at her hair but not touching it. “Or were you sneaking around a burned island at night, being attacked by dragons?”
She looked quickly at him. “How did you …?”
“This morning I was at the top of the mountain, taking in the surrounding lands and looking for any ships sailing the wide seas. I didn’t spot any. However, I did see a boat with you and Skeggi in it, rowing back from the dragon isle.”
“Oh.”
Hakr placed a heavy hand on her uninjured shoulder. “I hope you never do anything as scatterbrained as that again,” he said. “This ship belongs to you, just in case you weren’t aware of that. You have a duty to stay with your troops and not go wandering off on missions that don’t contribute to the common good of your people.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Well, well, no skin off my nose. You returned safely, though Odin knows that things could have gone very wrong very quickly.”
“Oh, they did.”
Hakr looked Dyrfinna over. “There’s no need to be glum about it,” he said. “I get the distinct impression that you have come out of this as a wiser and sadder woman. The lesson is a hard one, but infinitely valuable.”
Dyrfinna pulled herself together. The old captain was right. “So you haven’t seen anything of the Queen’s dragons?”
“No, nobody has yet. The world is a big place, though, especially when you sally forth into the watery portion of it. But! I have good news and bad news.”
“What’s that?”
“The good news is, I know where we are,” Hakr said, leaning back with his hands in his belt.
“That’s good!”
“The bad news is, we are deep in enemy territory.”
“Oh. That’s … pretty bad.”
“Aye. We might just find Varinn’s crew before the Queen’s ships find us. I don’t know where the storm blew the rest of them to. They could be in Valhalla for all I know, drinking up all the delicious nectar of the gods before I get any.” And then his face grew very dejected and sad. “I only hope that Queen Saehildr’s dragons find us before King Varinn’s boats do.”
“We’ll fight them all to the death!” an eavesdropping Viking proclaimed.
“We’d be outmatched and outnumbered,” Dyrfinna told him. “We wouldn’t do the Queen’s cause any good if we all died before we reached the field of battle.”
The other Viking waved her away and started talking to his friends about glorious warfare.
Something jabbed inside her shirt. That’s right, she picked up some plunder last night. She reached inside and pulled out what she had. Several golden coins sat in her palm, melted just enough to make the pictures and images stamped on them unreadable. She thought of the heat of the dragon’s fire and her hand started shaking. That fire was hot enough to melt gold. She quickly put the coins in her sea chest.
And here was something that seemed to be a musical instrument, made of metal, with holes down the side. The instruments they had in Skala included bone flutes and panpipes, but she couldn’t remember if she’d seen anything like this. She scraped off some black stuff from the instrument, and she tried to blow air through it, but it didn’t make any sound.
She found Gefjun talking to Ostryg, and gave her the instrument. “I don’t know what this is. Do you?”
“It’s a flute,” she said, holding it sideways, and she tried to play a song on it, but ended up blowing small flecks of black stuff out the other end. “This needs to be cleaned out very badly. Did you find this last night?”
“Yes. I wanted to give it to you as a thank you for fighting Ragnarok.”
“I was glad to do it,” Gefjun said, her face lighting up. “You should have seen it!”
Gefjun started telling her about how she’d fought Ragnarok in single combat. It sounded like an amazing battle, but her eyes were heavy. Dyrfinna leaned her head against the side of the ship as she listened.
She was pulled awake by a lot of Vikings talking at once. She found herself still leaning on the side of the ship, though Gefjun was no longer there. She hoped Gefjun wasn’t too mad at her for falling asleep during her story. It had been a good one, too.
Dyrfinna got to her feet, though she was very groggy, and joined the rest of the crew at the front of the ship, where they were staring very intently at something far ahead.
Her heart went cold when she saw the three ships on the water some distance off, sailing into view from behind an island.
Everybody made guesses about whose ships they were. Captain Hakr stood on the side of the ship, holding to the rigging and squinting across the water at them, while others gave their opinions on the shape of the masthead.
“They look like dragons to me—Queen’s ships.”
“You blockhead, they’re lions—King Varinn’s ships.”
Hakr shook his head. “Those ships are coming from King Varinn’s holdings.”
That silenced the Vikings.
Now, as Dyrfinna watched, the low black hull and colorful sail of a fourth warship appeared from around the bend.
Then a fifth.
Dyrfinna counted three more. Then two more, coming around that bend.
The Vikings watched the strange fleet in silence. One by one, the longships turned and bore down upon them, ten ships in all, their oars rhythmically churning the sea, the rampant lions on their prows creeping nearer.
“I see we’ve found King Varinn’s fleet,” muttered Skeggi. “Or part of it.”
“I certainly hope you young warriors are ready to fight,” Hakr said.
“Yes, I am,” Ostryg replied. The two of them picked up their shields from the sides of the ship and brandished them. They both had bearded dragons painted on them.
Then, wheeling around a mountain into view, a black dragon appeared, soaring high behind the ships.
“That dragon, too, belongs to King Varinn, just in case that was not obvious to anybody on this ship,” cried Hakr, leaping down onto the deck again.
“Is there time to make it to land and fight with our backs to the rocks?” Dyrfinna asked him.
The old captain squinted at shore. “Alas, no. They’ll be upon us before we’re halfway there, and then we’ll have a bunch of spent rowers.”
“Prepare to meet Odin where we stand!” Ostryg called.
“The bottom of this ocean will make a soft bed,” Skeggi said.
“That it might,” the captain replied. “But we have no time for despairing talk. Down sail! That dragon will set it on fire faster’n you can blink. Warri
ors, prepare to fight! And the only groaning and lamentation I want to hear is from the king’s men you kill on board in glorious battle.”
The mood grew somber as everyone leapt to take down the great sail. Dyrfinna hated with all her heart that she was facing her end, but she faced it stoically. Never able to tell Aesa that she died defending her and her mama. Never able to watch her grow up, or help train her to become a great swordswoman like her big sissy. Or an artist if she wanted, that was also fine.
To never see her little sister again, to never hug her mama, was the worst pain she’d ever borne.
Stop that, she scolded herself. You are not dead yet. Where there’s life, there’s hope.
So she faced her fear and she mastered it. Dyrfinna filled her mind with ways to take down as many other fighters as she could before she died. Then she went to the side of the ship with the rest of the crew to face King Varinn’s Vikings and greet them as they tried to come aboard. She loosened her sword in its scabbard and rolled her shoulders.
The captain, that stout sea-rover, turned to his crew with a glint of grim humor in his eyes. “Fighters! Fill your beakers and drink! No warrior will die thirsty in this battle.”
The warriors buckled on their armor and pulled their shields out of the sides of the ship, as lances, swords, and axes gleamed in their hands. Many filled their drinking-horns, and a few poured libations to Odin, Thor, and the Valkyries.
They shipped the oars, and in the grey morning light, their longship heaved gently on the waves, awaiting the approach of the king’s ten ships. A few sea-birds circled and screamed above them.
“Some fine eating you’ll have,” Dyrfinna murmured to the birds, listening to the rush of waters and the waves slapping on the boats’ sides as they rose and fell on the sea.
The crew stood shoulder to shoulder, some taking a last drink from their drinking horns, and saying goodbye to their friends at their side, saying “See you in Valhalla.”
“I’m going to take twelve fighters with me,” one said.
“I’m going to take thirteen warriors with me.”
“I’ll take twenty-four.”
Then a woman made an impressive belch and said, “I’m going to take three hundred and twenty four with me, so you better back my play.”
“Okay,” said the men.
Gefjun stood next to Ragnarok. “You are a shining beacon in the wilderness,” she told him.
“Ay, girlie,” he said and they did a sidearm hug. “You better keep me safe in this battle. Sing out so I can see those bastards better, okay?”’
“I will,” she said.
And Ostryg stood there watching with approval. Will wonders ever cease?
Dyrfinna met Skeggi’s eyes across the crowd. He mouthed, “All is forgiven.”
That brought a tingle of tears to her eyes, but no, she had to be stoic. So she straightened and looked at him and replied, “Thank you, my dearest friend.”
Gefjun frowned and motioned with her head. Her eyes bored into Dyrfinna, saying silently, Tell him!
“I love you, Gefjun,” Dyrfinna said instead.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I love you too. Now don’t make me cry. I’m trying to be pissed off over here.”
Fair enough.
The king’s ships slowed down. Dyrfinna, climbing into the rigging, could see the king’s fighters hurriedly preparing for battle. Well, she thought grimly, at least they were taken aback by our presence as we sit here waiting for them.
Soon, the head ship was within hailing distance, and a woman in a red cloak came to the front of the ship and stood haughtily before the others in the bow. “Cease rowing!” she called back to the rowers with an imperious gesture, and she paused as the oars came out of the water and rumbled in.
Then she called scornfully, “Tell me, what is the name of your commander?”
“Dyrfinna, the daughter of Egill, ambassador to the Queen Saehildr of Skala. And who are you, who asks my name?” Dyrfinna called back.
“Nauma, the daughter of King Bjólan,” the woman in the red cloak called back. “With me is Illugi, the son of Gunnbjorn, wrecker of mead halls. We have ten warships, as you might have noticed. Yield to us, Dyrfinna Egilsdóttir, for your queen has killed our prince, and now she must pay with the blood of her people.”
Nauma thrust her spear into the air with a yodeling cry. Her crew behind her started chanting, “We whet our knives on your bones, for we are the child-killers! We are the child-killers!”
Dyrfinna recoiled in disgust—worse than disgust. “Nice troops. Quality.”
“You’re telling me,” said Gefjun, and she spat.
Nauma shouted across the water, “Fate must have brought us together, for your Queen, too, killed a child. For you to meet us is karma indeed.”
Dyrfinna and her shipmates looked at each other. “What’s she even talking about?” Gefjun said. “The king’s son? But he was a grown man.”
Everybody shrugged. “Yeah. Unless you consider a 25-year-old man a child,” somebody else said. “That’s kind of stretching it, though.”
“If he was a child, that would make us all wee bairns,” Ostryg rumbled.
“Not to mention the queen killed him to get revenge on her daughter that Varinn murdered.”
“Aye,” somebody said, and an angry mutter went around the ship. The queen’s daughter had been a universal favorite among all the residents of Skala.
Dyrfinna looked around. “Who are these people? This Nauma Bjólansdóttir?”
Skeggi was at her side, shaking his head. “I’ve heard of them. They call themselves the child-killers, for they show no mercy, even to children.”
Dyrfinna went silent, thinking of these child-killers sailing to Skala. Thinking of them flowing up the hill of the town like a sickening tide. Thinking of little Aesa, standing before their home in her bare feet, screaming for Mama, screaming for Sissy…
“No,” Dyrfinna said, her voice trembling with fury. “They are not going to get past us. If they think they’re going to get at our children, they’ll have to think again.”
She turned to her shipmates. “Are we of one mind on this? Shall we fight the human garbage?”
A shout of approval met her.
“Then gird yourselves,” she said. “Let Odin do with us what he wills. May we be a wall between them and our dear home, which we love.” Her eyes grew steely. “They will pay dearly for meeting us, and their blood will flow like wine. May it be so.”
A roar from her shipmates, making her heart glad, though she was still grim. Then she sprang to the bow and shouted across the water, “We are ready for you, Nauma and Illugi. And we will make you weep for daring to cross us.”
From their enemy’s lead ship, Nauma shouted, “So you will fight, little Dyrfinna? Remember that we are called the child-killers.”
Ostryg climbed up on the rigging. “Hey, child-killers! You ever think about picking on somebody your own size? Or do you only go after helpless babies who can’t fight? That sounds about your speed.”
For all his faults, sometimes Ostryg really could say the right thing.
Nauma’s crew did not like that at all. Their cheers turned to angry mutters.
Dyrfinna raised a fist in the air and faced her crew and shouted, and they all shouted approval for Ostryg’s words.
The old captain shouted across the water. “I know you, Nauma, and I have crossed you before, foul Illugi. You’ll be killing no wee babies today. In fact, I have a gift for you.”
He took two swift steps forward and flung a spear at the two adversaries. His aim was so true that he nearly ended the attack then and there, but Nauma flung herself to the side just in time. The spear hit a man directly behind her and pierced him through. He fell kicking onto the deck as black death came down over his eyes.
Nauma screamed in fury and spun back toward Dyrfinna’s ship. “Forward! Forward!” she shrieked like a hawk. “Forward, and let’s deal these sick wolves the death they so richly
deserve!”
Their black dragon circled and flew in, fire licking at the corners of its mouth. Dyrfinna leaned back, weighing how she could possibly save her ship from this.
But Nauma turned and threw an open hand up at it. “Hold your fire, dragon.” Her voice traveled far over the water. “This is our fun; let us have at them for a while.”
The dragon snorted and came in low, shooting over Dyrfinna’s longship so fast that its wake struck them like a physical blow and sent her ship rocking wildly, nearly capsizing.
“Forward!” Nauma shouted again.
Their oars struck the water, the Vikings of the king’s ships roared. Dyrfinna and her fighters rushed to the sides of her ship, eager to cut down as many of those so-called child killers as possible.
“Fighters, conserve your energy!” Dyrfinna cried. “Let these dogs come to us. Let them use up their strength in fighting us. We have a long battle ahead, our ship against ten, and there will be nobody to spell you.”
She drew her sword and she held it before her, the runes that said NONE SHALL PASS THROUGH ME flashing before her eyes. She flung a prayer heavenward to Odin, the All-Father, then stood in the guard position, breathing deeply, ready.
Nauma brought her ship alongside Dyrfinna’s, flinging grappling hooks at hers to bring them side by side. Their swords kept slashing at the ropes, but while they were doing this, Nauma’s warriors were pulling their ship to Dyrfinna’s to board it.
“Back away!” cried the old captain. Quick as a wink, Hakr swung his great battle-axe and severed the ropes, which snapped, sizzling back into Nauma’s ship. A space stayed between the two ships—but one that was easy enough to lean across and lash at Dyrfinna’s warriors.
“We need warriors with longswords, lances, and pikes to guard against each ship,” Dyrfinna cried. “Arms that keep us out of their reach and frustrate them.”
With a great crash, the bows of Nauma’s remaining ships met the front and sides of Dyrfinna’s ship.
At once, metal clashed with metal, and the shock of arms on all sides of her ship rang out. Dyrfinna thrust and slashed at the king’s Vikings that crowded to scramble aboard her longship. Dyrfinna’s crew lifted their shields to block the intruders, working their swords around the edges. Shield to shield they defended their lives with the courage of despair.
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