“You are modest, Eyvind,” replied Hakon, with Astrid and Thora by his side. “I am certain it will more than sustain us. As for my men, they seek only warmth and will likely sleep where they fall tonight.”
They disembarked and walked toward the hall. Nearby, thralls stopped their labor to examine the newcomers. It was dusk and still they toiled in the fields and pens that surrounded the hall.
“Back to work!” yelled Eyvind at the gawkers. “Damn thralls. They dawdle any chance they get. Got to keep your eyes on 'em, you know?”
Hakon switched the subject. “Mayhap you can regale us with a tale or two this evening. I have heard many times that you and Eskil once fought by each other's side, though I have never heard you or him tell of your adventures.”
Eyvind barked a laugh. “We were but beardless pups then, my lord. I doubt you would find much interest in our small glories.”
“Nonsense,” said Hakon. “We would be honored to hear a tale or two.”
They reached the door of the hall and Eyvind opened it for his king. “Very well,” he said with a grin and a wink. “I shall think on your request. Mayhap the ale will spark my memory and loosen my tongue.”
When Hakon's eyes had adjusted to the hall's gloom, he scanned the room for trouble but found only shadows and benches and tables in the cavernous space. Dust mites whirled in the air above the low flame in the central hearth, while cobwebs danced up in the beams. After more than a week of being at sea, the closeness of the interior felt constricting. Still, Hakon nodded appreciatively at the interior and remarked on its pleasant warmth, something he had not had since leaving Lade. Behind Hakon came Astrid and Thora and Unn, as well as Eskil, who surveyed the hall circumspectly as they sat at Eyvind's table.
“It has been a long while since you last graced us with your presence, my lord.” Eyvind turned to a thrall girl who stood nearby. “Ada, tell Fathir to slaughter the choicest lamb and add it to the kettle. Then bring that keg of ale I've been keeping and some cheese and bread. Run along now.” The girl shot out the door. “So then,” he said, turning back to his guests. “Why are you here?”
“Do I need an explanation to visit one of my estates?” Hakon asked, not attempting to mask the surliness in his tone.
“No, lord,” Eyvind sputtered. “Forgive my curiosity.”
Eskil chimed in quickly to ease the tension. “There were many places we could have anchored, but as you said, it has been many springs since last Hakon came to these shores. I recommended we halt here for the night. My recommendation was partly selfish, I admit. I could not miss a chance to visit you, my friend. It has been too long. This man saved my life,” said the helmsman, pointing to Eyvind. “Did you know that, my lord?”
Hakon's brows arched as he gazed at Eyvind. “Small glories? I would say that saving a friend's life counts for more than that, Eyvind.”
“Go on,” urged Eskil. “Tell them.”
The graybeard scratched his hairy cheek. “Which time, Eskil?”
The table broke into laughter as Eskil blushed and held up his hands for peace. “It is true. I was none too skilled with a blade when I first left home. More of a ship man, I am. Thank the gods I befriended Eyvind.”
The ale arrived, and Ada poured the cups full for the guests. To Thora, she offered a cup of water.
“Why can I not drink ale, Father, like you and Astrid?”
Eyvind smiled. “You'd best keep a close eye on her, my lord. She misses nothing.”
“Like her father,” Astrid quipped.
Unn turned to Thora. “Because you are a child. Now, do not be rude to our host. He was about to tell us a story.”
“First, a toast,” said Eyvind. “To my guests. May you travel safe to Avaldsnes. And while you are here, may you find warmth and comfort under this roof. Skol!”
“Skol!” said the guests in unison and drank from their cups.
“Now then,” Eyvind began. “As it seems you have a specific request, my lord, let me tell you of the first time we left our home.” Eyvind then launched into the story of how he and Eskil had met on a ship owned by their lord, a chieftain from Hordaland who sought adventure and wealth in the West.
“We came to the Orkneyjar and allied ourselves with Jarl Einar and soon found ourselves raiding in the islands to the north and west of the Scots. Things were going well enough until a storm shattered the fleet and drove several of our ships ashore. Many of our stores had been ruined in the storm, and so we set off to find supplies for our return to Einar's hall. And that,” he lifted a crooked finger, “is when the Scots appeared. They came at us from the front, while a rear force cut off our retreat. There was nothing for it than to run for the ships and fight our only way out.”
Eyvind looked at each of his guests. “Of course, we were young and brash and full of fire, and so we rushed at that rearguard with blades swinging and curses flying.” He let his words hang in the air as he took a swig of ale. “But we underestimated the Scots, who are wicked fighters. They surrounded us as quick as a man can sneeze. We fought like champions that day, we did, but it was not enough. Most of our company fell, as did our chieftain.”
“But you survived,” coaxed Astrid.
Eyvind sat up in his chair. “I am here, am I not?” He chuckled. “As for Eskil, when I found him, he was lying on the ground about to take an axe to the chest. I cut his would-be banesman down, then lifted Eskil to his feet. We fought side by side until my arm could barely lift my sword. By then, it was clear we would never make the ships. Most of the men trying were cut down from behind. So as soon as we could manage, we headed north, into the trees, and hid.” Eyvind drank deeply from his cup. “It was a dark day, that.”
“It was,” Eskil echoed, his manner suddenly subdued, as if the memory weighed on him even after all of this time.
“But how did you escape?” wondered Hakon. “Did the Scots not take your ships?”
“The fools had little interest in our ships,” Eskil said, his voice soft as his mind floated back over the years. “They wanted only our lives and our goods. When they had killed most of us and stripped the dead and the ships of wealth, they headed back into the hills. Eyvind and I waited until nightfall, then snuck to the smallest of our craft and rowed away.”
Eyvind was about to say something more when the door of his hall burst open and a man rushed to his side. The man whispered in his ear and a shadow of concern passed across Eyvind's face. He excused himself abruptly and followed his man outside.
“Eskil,” Hakon said as calmly as his misgivings would allow. “Let us go with Eyvind and see what is amiss. Astrid, stay with Unn and Thora.”
Hakon ignored Astrid's concerned gaze and rose from the table. He exited the hall and stopped before he had taken two steps. Beside him, Eskil cursed. For there, in the channel, were five warships.
Chapter 23
Fitjar sat on the eastern side of a vast bay, and from its vantage, Hakon could see the warships slowly skirting the western shoreline, their sweeps pulling gently through a mat of brown seaweed.
“They are looking for a beach,” said Eskil as he studied the ships. Which made sense, since it was now darker and not the time for men to be sailing through rocky channels.
“Or for a ship,” Hakon added.
Eskil glanced sidelong at his king. “Think you someone has come looking for you?” he asked. “How would they know of us, or our whereabouts?”
Hakon shrugged. “Word can travel faster than ships, Eskil.” Down on the beach, Hakon's men were extinguishing their campfires. “You see that inlet there, on the back side of that rise?” A small, rocky hill jutted into the bay, separating the bay into two parts and shielding Hakon's men from the warships. “See if you can hide Dragon there.”
“Hide, my lord?”
“Do not question, Eskil. Just do as I ask. And send Harald and Egbert to me.”
With a parting glance, Eskil jogged down to the beach and started to organize the efforts. The crew peered up a
t Hakon as if wondering whether he had truly commanded such a thing, then they set to work.
Astrid appeared at Hakon's side and intertwined her arm with her husband's. “I do not like the looks of them,” she whispered.
“Did I not tell you to stay with Thora and Unn?”
“I was curious,” Astrid explained.
Her comment was meant to lighten the moment, but Hakon's growing apprehension kept his mood heavy. “Do not worry,” he responded flatly. “I am sure they are just seeking shelter for the night.”
Astrid snorted derisively. “Which is why the men haul Dragon into hiding?”
“It is only a precaution.”
She was about to comment, but Hakon stayed her with a hand. “Forgive me, Astrid, but I must speak to my men.”
He left her on the hillside and strode down to Harald and Egbert, who were breathless from their climb up the slope. “I need your help,” Hakon said when he reached them. “Harald, if the ships beach, take Bard to scout out their crews but stay out of sight. I want to know if they are friend or foe, how many they are, and how well they are armed. Egbert,” he turned to his priest. “If this comes to a fight, I need you to take the women from here.”
“Where, lord?”
He glanced back at Astrid, then turned back to Egbert and spoke under his breath, as if Astrid could overhear his words while standing twenty paces away. “We will speak with Eyvind and find a suitable place.”
Harald and Egbert headed back to the beach, while Hakon returned to Astrid. “Please go wait in the hall with Thora and Unn,” he said softly but firmly to his wife. “Harald is going to scout out the visitors. As soon as I know more, I will come to you.”
Astrid kissed her husband, then turned and strode back to the hall. Hakon walked down to the beach, picking his way over the uneven ground in the gathering darkness to the hilly inlet where his men had hauled Dragon and now began to cover her with sea wrack, foliage, and other island debris they found. The men cursed and grumbled as they worked, for it was difficult to see and easy to smack a comrade with an errant branch.
In the midst of the toiling warriors stood Toralv's unmistakable frame. He was directing the work as best he could with soft grunts and growls to keep his voice from carrying. Hakon motioned him over. “Pull the weapons, shields, and armor from the ship and bring them up the hill when this work is done.”
“If we intend to fight,” he said bluntly, “why then are we covering the ship?”
Hakon ignored his tone. “I do not wish to fight,” he admitted. “Not with Thora and Astrid here, which is why we hide the ship. But if it comes to a fight, we must have our weapons.”
Toralv accepted that explanation with a curt nod and sleeved some sweat from his brow. “I will see it done.”
“When it is done, post guards throughout Eyvind's dwellings. The rest of the men can come to his hall. It will be a tight fit, but I want this place to look deserted.”
Hakon then found Eyvind and pulled him aside, explaining to him what he intended. Eyvind nodded his understanding. “I will have my thralls prepare some food and send for more men. I can gather some twenty or so men from the neighboring area by dawn.”
Hakon nodded. “Thank you, Eyvind. I will see you well rewarded for your efforts.”
Later that evening, Hakon sat quietly in Eyvind's hall with those of his hirdmen not out in the night. Astrid sat beside her husband, staring at the subdued warriors, lost in some thought. Nearby, Thora slept with her head in the lap of Unn, who hummed a soft tune to her as she stroked the girl's head. The girl had never had a problem sleeping and was oblivious to the soft conversations and laughter that rumbled in Eyvind's hall. Nor did she notice when the hall's door opened and Bard slipped in and the conversations silenced. For Bard had fresh blood on his face and a teenage boy clutched by the nape of his neck.
“The ships have beached not far from here and are making camp,” Bard announced without preamble as he forced the boy to his knees before Hakon. “They sent out a small party of men to scout the area. We captured this filth. The others we killed.”
Hakon did not try to hide his shock at the sight of the shepherd boy he had saved at Shadow Haven. “Reinhard, was it?”
The boy lifted his whiskered chin and gazed at Hakon with fury in his eyes. “Aye.”
“So you have come to seek your revenge too, eh?” Hakon did not wait for him to answer. “You are lucky Bard did not kill you or your efforts would have come to naught.” Hakon lifted his eyes to Bard. “Let me guess. The ships belong to Harald Erickson, and he has come for his vengeance.”
Bard kept his dark eyes even. “Aye, lord.”
Hakon had known. He had felt it in his gut. Ever since seeing the Danes flee the fight in Jutland, he knew he would see his nephew again. In truth, he welcomed Harald's return. For now, God willing, he would be able to rid himself of the specter of Erik, at least until his younger brothers came of age. “How many men has Harald brought with him, boy?” asked Hakon. “And are they all children like you, or does he bring some real warriors with him?”
The crimson climbed in Reinhard's cheeks, but he held his tongue.
Hakon looked over at Thora, who, remarkably, still slept. Turning back to the boy, he said, “Tell me, boy, and you shall live. Tell me not, and you will die a sorry death, like your father.” Hakon did not enjoy taunting the lad, but he knew Reinhard was excitable, and Hakon needed information.
“My father did not die a sorry death!” the boy spat. “You killed him dishonorably!”
Hakon nodded to Bard, who smacked the boy across the side of his head. Reinhard fell sideways to the dirt floor before being hauled roughly back to his knees by Bard.
Hakon leaned closer to Reinhard. “We can beat you to death, or you can tell me what I need to know and return to your comrades. You have my word that I will not harm you if you give me what I seek.” Thora awoke then, and Unn moved the sleepy girl away from the scene. Hakon watched them until they were gone from sight. “Well, Reinhard?”
The boy understood and calmed himself long enough to tell Hakon that there were more than two hundred warriors, and that with Harald had come his mother's brothers, whose names were Eyvind Skroia and Alf Askman. Hakon had heard of them and knew them both to be formidable fighters. It changed nothing, though — he would not leave this place. Hakon glanced at Astrid, who was trying to remain calm, but Hakon knew her well enough to see the growing concern in her green eyes.
“Take Reinhard back to where you found him,” Hakon instructed Bard. “Send him with the heads of those you killed.”
Bard grinned.
“When you return to your camp, Reinhard,” said Hakon to the boy, “I want you to tell your leader, Harald, this: I, Hakon Haraldsson, will wait for him outside this hall on the morrow's morning. Tell him also that, should he be man enough to face me, he will find nothing but his death here, as well as the death of all who follow him.” Reinhard swallowed visibly. Hakon saw his fear and smiled viciously. “Should I find you on the field, boy, you will die with the others.” Hakon waved them away.
When they were gone, he stood and raised his ale cup to the men sitting quietly in the hall. “Here again we face Erik's son with a force greater than our own. It has not kept us from victory, nor shall it again. So, speak your boasts and enjoy yourselves while this night is yet young. Then rest well with the knowledge that on the morrow there is fame to earn and blood to shed. We will rise and give Harald Eriksson a fight like he has never seen!” The men cheered their king as Hakon raised his cup even higher. “Skol to you, my warriors!” he called into their shouts.
That night, Hakon and Astrid slept in the main bedchamber and made love with the energy of couples half their age. Neither spoke in words. Both knew this could be the last time they breathed each other's scent or tasted each other's flesh or explored each other's secrets, and so they spoke to each other with their bodies, their movement, and their passion in the soft glow of the room's candles. Even
tually they collapsed, and Hakon fell into a dreamless sleep, frozen in darkness.
He awoke to a rap on the door and sat up quickly, his mind instantly turning to the day's events and the things he must do. Astrid woke with him and brushed his arm with her fingers as he dressed. He stared at her for a long moment, memorizing the auburn curls framing her beautiful face and her tear-filled eyes. “Go find Egbert,” he said as tenderly as he could. “He will take you, Thora, and Unn to safety until this day is over. I will see you then.”
And with those words spoken, he turned to his gear and prepared for battle.
Chapter 24
As promised, Eyvind Finson's neighbors appeared just as the first rays of dawn brushed across the grass of Fitjar. There were eighteen of them, mostly middle-aged or older. But from the looks of them and their weapons, most knew something of battle. Eyvind introduced them as his former comrades who, like him, had finally chosen a life of farming and had settled on plots in and around Fitjar. But they had not forgotten their oaths to each other, and so when word reached them of danger, each grabbed his weapons and armor and shield and came to Eyvind's aid.
Hakon called to Asmund to grab the standard and place it at the top of the hill overlooking the bay. There the black flag waved in the morning breeze and the golden boar danced upon its field as it had done so many times before. Its presence suddenly reminded Hakon of his foster-father, King Athelstan, who had given him the standard all of those summers ago. Did Athelstan look down upon him now? If so, Hakon wondered what he would be thinking. That, in turn, reminded him of Egil and Ottar and all of the others who were now gone. Would they, too, be watching this day from their heavenly benches and raise their cups in salute when the day was done? He prayed it was, and would be, so.
Egbert found Hakon seated on the hill with his men, enjoying some light-hearted laughs while attending to some last-minute blade sharpening. They ate porridge with fruit and honey to fortify their strength and sipped on cups of Eyvind's ale for courage in the upcoming fight. Hakon looked up as the priest approached.
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