Nena

by Ann Boelter

  “But these are your people, and he is not.” Her tone was both bitter and confused.

  “Jarl is my people now. The gods chose him for me, and I accepted their choice. It was the right choice for me. You will understand when you are older.” Nena put her arm around Exanthia and pulled her close. “But I will miss you. There are so many things I wanted to show you, to teach you. Like this place, for one. And to help you practice your warrior skills. Jalla and Gentok will help you now.”

  “Jalla?” Exanthia asked in disbelief, the hint of a smile coming to her face at the idea of it.

  “Yes, Jalla.” Nena smiled. “Do not let her fool you. Jalla tries to act old and motherly, but never forget she is Meln’s sister. She not only possesses knowledge of important things about herbs for healing and for poison, but she also possesses great warrior skills. It would be good for her to get out with you and clash the sticks. She would not just be helping you, you would also be helping her to not grow old too fast.”

  Exanthia giggled. “Jalla with the sticks?”

  “You laugh, but she will surprise you. And I want you to promise me you will ask Lothor to take you to the waterfall. It is a secret place we found when were children.”

  “Lothor?”

  “Yes. He is not as gruff as he seems. You are his niece now, and should build that bond. The waterfall is a full day’s ride from here, but if you ask him, I know he will take you. It would be good for you both. Do you promise?”

  “Yes,” Exanthia agreed. “I will ask him.”

  “And Gentok,” Nena paused, her heart heavy. She hadn’t seen nor spoken with Gentok since the trial and her choosing. She knew it would have brought him pain and that saddened her. “He is a great warrior. Listen carefully to all he has to teach you.”

  “I will.”

  “Jarl is waiting. I must go.” Nena stood and placed her hand on Exanthia’s head. “You will be a great warrior one day, Exanthia of the Teclan. Always know that I am very proud of you.”

  Nena went next to Jalla’s tent but found it empty. Disappointed, she returned to Jarl and the horses. They were just about to mount when Jalla approached them. “I just found this extra travel hide and have no need for it. I thought perhaps it might come in useful on your journey,” Jalla said.

  “Gratitude,” Nena said as she took the hide and tied it on top of one of the horse’s packs, even though they already had plenty. She knew it was just an excuse for Jalla to see her one last time. After the last knot was tied, she turned to the older woman and hugged her. “Take care, Jalla. May the gods smile upon you until we see each other again.”

  “And you, Nena,” Jalla whispered as they separated from their embrace. “And Jarl.” She nodded at him. “Travel safe.”

  “We will,” he said. “And I swear to you I will protect her until my last breath.”

  She studied him and nodded. “You have proven that to me already.” With that she turned and walked away, leaving Nena and Jarl alone.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Nena nodded and mounted the gray mare, settling into the sheepskin Dor saddle for the long ride ahead. She waited for Jarl to mount his stallion and gather his two pack horses, then did the same with her pair before she followed him down the trail she knew so well.

  NENA LEANED FROM the platform to touch the smooth carved wood. She traced the outline of each animal design with the tips of her fingers. From a distance they appeared to be only the scales of the great dragon’s neck, but up close she could see the intricate detail. Her gaze moved up to the golden head of the dragon. Its eye looked down at her—and saw her. She could not shake the impression that the great beast was measuring her.

  “It is beautiful,” she murmured. And it was, though she’d been afraid at first and had approached the boat with considerable trepidation. Now that she was close and could see the loving craftsmanship that had gone into its creation, she was reassured.

  “Yes, she is,” Jarl said as he ran his own hand over the neck.

  “She?” Nena asked with a smile.

  “Of course. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen until you.”

  Nena looked back to the dragon’s eye, sure now that this great ship had a spirit. She wondered how it would respond to his words. Would it be jealous as Altene had been? If so, she would never dare step aboard, sure that some mishap would befall her. But the great beast’s eye seemed not fierce, but satisfied. “And do you have a name for her?” Nena asked.

  Jarl smiled. “She is The Treasure Huntress. And she has lived up to her name on every voyage, though none have made me so rich as this one.” He pulled her to him and kissed her.

  Nena resumed her scrutiny of the tiny characters carved into the scales. “And who are these two lovers?” she asked, her fingers tracing over the two small forms locked in a lovers’ embrace.

  Jarl laughed. “There are no lovers there,” he said without looking.

  “There surely are.” She looked at him but kept her fingers near the carving so as not to lose her place in all the intricate detail.

  Jarl leaned closer and peered next to her fingertips. The male and female entwined bodies were unmistakable. “I never noticed that before,” he murmured as he examined it closer. “That is very odd. I have never known of a ship to have such a symbol. She has kept secrets from me all this time. That had to be Leila’s doing.” Jarl was quiet for a moment lost in thought. “Sigurd said his wife, Leila, wanted me to get more than I bargained for, and he said it very strangely. I assumed at the time, he meant the reduction in the price, but now, looking back—I’m not so sure. I will tell you about them one day.”

  “So that is not you and some Northwoman?” Nena teased.

  “No. There is no Northwoman.” He stepped closer and squinted at the figures. “In fact, I think I see a Teclan star on her arm.”

  “You do not.”

  But Jarl saw her glance back at the carving again, still not always able to recognize his ways of saying one thing and meaning another. He pulled her into a brief hug, then keeping his arm around her shoulders, led her toward the back of the boat. “Come. Let me show you the rest.” They walked further down the boardwalk to the middle of the ship. Jarl leapt across the short expanse of open water to the deck of the boat, but Nena’s feet remained planted on the planks.

  “It’s alright. It’s not far,” Jarl encouraged.

  “It’s not the distance,” she said, as she watched Jarl’s body unconsciously compensating for the rolling motion of the boat beneath him.

  “I will catch you,” he said.

  Nena chose a spot near him and leaped across, sure that she could do something as simple as stand on her own. She landed with both feet solid and flat on the boat’s floor, but then it shifted, and she staggered. Jarl grabbed her flailing arm and supported her. She looked up embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I wobble about like a newborn fawn.”

  “Your body will soon learn to adjust to the motion. You won’t even notice it—like riding a horse.”

  She looked out over the still surface of the water. “It looks so calm, but I feel its power even now, from below. I cannot imagine how it must feel when it is angry.”

  Jarl shook his head. “No, you cannot. It is a fierce and terrifying thing. Even knowing the ship is blessed by the gods, it is a trying experience for the bravest man. But it will not be rough for our voyage.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He glanced at the brilliant red sunset with satisfaction. “A red sky at night means fair weather, and when a storm is coming, I feel it. Here.” He placed his hand on his chest. “I’m surprised you Teclan are not masters of that. Your senses with other things seem so much keener than normal.”

  “We learn those other things. They are not natural abilities.”

  “So is predicting a storm. Though not all are able to learn it well. I will teach you someday.” He stepped further toward the stern, pulling her with him. “Here is where the horses will ride. A
nd here is where we will sleep. If the weather is wet or the sun too fierce, we pull this canopy over us. And this.” He touched the huge roll of bound canvas. “We lift up to catch the wind. Often it will take us to our destination with little effort. But if the wind is still, then we row.” He pointed to the oars on either side.

  “How long will it take us?” she asked.

  “Not long. It will only be a three day journey to the northwest shore.”

  “Three whole days on the Great Sea.” Nena shivered.

  Jarl pulled her closer, knowing her family’s fear of going out on the water. “You will be safe with me. I am from a sea tribe. And though mine is a sea far from here, this sea also recognizes me. And now it recognizes you, too.”

  She nodded, unconvinced but determined. If he had told her it would be dangerous and they might very well die, she would still go with him. As he had been willing to die rather than live without her, she, too, felt the same.

  Sensing that her uneasiness remained, Jarl changed the subject. “The northwest shore is a beautiful place at the base of a great mountain. It is not so tall as the Teclan mountain, but still large. We can go there if the summers are too hot, or anytime we want to hunt. The coastline has rich grasslands and fertile soil for growing food. And there are great rocks jutting out into the sea to protect the port we will build. They shall provide safe harbor for the ships even in bad weather.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” she said.

  “It will be,” he agreed. “We should return to camp and get some sleep. We will need to be up and ready at first light.”

  “I thought your men who were retiring were going to settle on the northeast shore?” she asked, after his guard had taken away the plates of their evening meal.

  “They were.” He looked at her curiously “But the storms come from the south and west and they will be much worse coming off the Great Sea than the land.”

  “But the men say the northeast shore is closer for the trader’s coming from the far, far east, and more direct for the other Northman boats coming off the river.”

  “Do they now?” He smiled. “How is it you know so much?”

  “I listen.”

  “And I do not?” he asked.

  She shrugged, and he pulled her in close, reaching for a spot where he knew she was ticklish. “And what else do my men say?” he asked.

  “They say,” she said, as she squirmed away from his fingers, “they say the far, far easterners will not be able to trade with you because they will not be able to cross the Great Sea.” His fingers found her ticklish spot, despite her evasive maneuvers. She could not control her giggles. “Jarl, stop, please,” she gasped.

  He knew she hated it when he did that. Apparently for Teclan, it was unthinkable for an adult to be tickled, but it was his one weapon against her when she sassed him.

  “You can tell my loose-mouthed men, since you seem to be so in touch with them, that if our settlement was destroyed by a sea storm, we would not have to worry about trading with the far, far easterners. There would be nothing left to trade with. And for their peace of mind, we will be settling where the Volga River joins the Great Sea. The other Northman boats will find us easily and the far, far easterners will not have to cross the sea, only the neck of the river, which they will do by the simple ferry that we will build.

  “Though I do have a confession.” He paused. “I chose the spot on the northwest shore for three reasons. The first is the weather, which I already explained. The second was to have wood from the mountain for building homes, fortifications and docks. And the third...I would not have you so far removed from all that is familiar to you. It is not the Teclan mountain, but I thought you would gain some comfort by its presence.” He finished quietly, seeming almost embarrassed. “Though that is not something I would have shared with my men,” he added ruefully.

  Nena’s heart swelled. He was always so considerate of her feelings and her comfort.

  “With you, all new things will become familiar to me,” she said as she snuggled against his bare chest. “But are you sure we cannot ride there? Must we take the ships?”

  “We could ride, but what will take only three days now would take three weeks. You must trust me.”

  “I do. Now tell me the story of Sigurd and his wife, Leila—the ones who built The Treasure Huntress.”

  IT WAS DAWN, when Gunnar stepped off the deck of the ship and found Jarl on the dock staring at The Treasure Huntress in the fog. “I don’t have to take her, you know. I can still take the Sea Wolf,” Gunnar said.

  “No, the Sea Wolf is long past due to retire,” Jarl said. “She’s the perfect boat to leave behind, and more than I expected to have. Besides,” he placed his hand on the graceful dragon’s neck that made the bow of the ship, “I gave my word to Sigurd. The Huntress is young and was made for adventure. She will be far better off seeking treasure than stagnating here as a transport shuttle.” He turned to Gunnar. “And I know she will be in good hands.”

  “As will you, I suspect,” Gunnar said, and nodded toward the woman approaching them in the morning mist.

  Jarl smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yes. As will I.”

  “You know I would like to stay and help more, but we must go now or we won’t make it before the rivers freeze. We’ll be cutting it very close now, I’m afraid. As much as I hate the heat here, a frozen Rusland winter sounds even less appealing,” Gunnar said and shook his head. “And even with fair weather, I expect all the land portages to be even lengthier. Since you decided to stay, half the men have suddenly decided to stay with you. I have made up for much of the lost labor with extra slaves, but you know even the strongest equals half a Viking. The loss of Tryggr’s brute strength alone required three slaves to replace.”

  “I fully understand,” Jarl said. “Your help here in these past days has been an unexpected bonus, and very well received, my friend. We are far ahead of where I expected to be even months from now. Gratitude.”

  “None required.” Gunnar dismissed it. “I look forward to seeing your progress when I return next year. I expect it will be much changed. And as much as I will miss not having the extra men for their labor, I am more optimistic about your survival here with the larger force. Though I would feel even better if you had more of them.”

  “More will come.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m worried about. I do not expect them all to be friendly.”

  “Thanks to you we are at least starting out with some defenses.”

  Gunnar glanced around at the rough, quickly constructed fortifications: ramparts, sharp poles, trenches, a watch tower. They were meager, but better than nothing. “I shall do as you requested with your possessions at home, and bring the equivalent of their worth on my next expedition.”

  “And mine. Don’t forget mine,” Tryggr said, as he heaved the last crate to be stowed on board, then joined them, overhearing Gunnar’s last words.

  “And yours Tryggr,” Gunnar agreed. “Though it should be you now taking the helm of The Treasure Huntress, not me.”

  “Bah. Captaining is for the young. Raiding is for the young.” Tryggr shook his head. “Besides, someone needs to watch out for Jarl, here. He’s reckless, you know. Without someone to look after him, he’d end up dead for sure.”

  “Then I leave you to it.” Gunnar nodded. “May Odin and Thor continue to smile upon you until we see each other again.”

  “And to you,” Jarl said.

  Gunnar leapt easily onto the deck and made his way to the helm. At his command all oars splashed into the water in one synchronized movement, and the ship slowly backed away from the makeshift dock.

  Nena came to stand beside Jarl as he watched the ship row away. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Neither spoke until the ship was but a speck on the horizon.

  “Do you wish you were going?” she asked him.

  He turned and looked deep into her eyes. “I am exactly where I want to be.”

 
She smiled. “As am I.”

  SIGURD STEPPED UP onto the low granite slab that jutted out over the fjord and glanced up at the sun. The muted orange fireball was just beginning its descent toward the horizon. His timing was perfect. He dropped the soft white rabbit pelt near the water’s edge and carefully laid the two oxhorn cups on top of it before lowering the small cask from his shoulder. After filling both cups with the amber honey mead, he leaned them against the cask, then eased his stiff body down to sit next to them. He adjusted his position to avoid a sharp piece of ice jabbing him in the back and then settled in against the stone.

  He exhaled a long slow exhale and watched his breath billow white in the crisp air before slowly dissipating. There was not a hint of wind. Just the way she liked it. He looked out over the smooth still water with satisfaction. The tide was full high and the calm water lapped gently at the edge of the rock slab. Picking up both cups, he touched them together, then leaned forward to pour the contents of the ornate silver rimmed one into the water, before taking a deep swallow from the other.

  “He’s done it, Leila,” Sigurd said, looking to the place where her burning burial ship had finally slipped beneath the surface. “Jarl has given The Treasure Huntress away, as promised.” He smiled at the water. “I was in town today and heard it from a merchant ship at the dock. But that’s only half of the story. According to the captain, Jarl has not only given up the ship, he’s settled on the shores of the Caspian Sea with a native barbarian princess.”

  Sigurd recounted the passionate whirlwind love affair—the capture, the escape, the trial, as the man had described it to him, refilling his own cup twice in the process. “And I know you think I’m exaggerating, but as Odin is my witness, I swear I am not. The merchant said Jarl was so enamored with this woman, he offered up his own life to the gods to get her back. It’s exactly as you said, love truly is more powerful than a man’s sword—or his mind, and, once experienced, it’s the most precious treasure of all. Jarl has discovered it as you had hoped. Along with great fortune,” he added, nodding with satisfaction.