Across the Seas

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Across the Seas Page 12

by Griff Hosker


  Sven released an arrow. The distance was just fifteen paces and he could not miss. The arrow hit the skraeling steering the boat in the shoulder. He dropped his paddle. Having lost two of the paddles the boat slewed around and I straightened the steering board to hit his prow. They were an unstable vessel and it turned over. I then reversed the steering board. We began to move quicker than the other boats which followed us. We had been followed before and I knew that this would not end quickly. As soon as we reached the end of the island, I put the steering board hard over to take us east. The wind whipped along behind us and pushed us. The waves were already higher. One of the boats was less than twenty paces from us. Arrows and stones flew at them but the boat had a high prow and we caused no casualties. The warriors were strong and their arms powered the boat as quickly as our sail for we were laden. The wind behind helped them as much as us. It was when I turned the board to sail northwest that the gods came to our aid. The warriors were no longer bow on to the waves and a large one hit them hard and spilt them. I saw a hand come out of the water and then disappear. I would not relax until daylight came.

  We had left in a hurry and my hourglass and compass, not to mention my charts, were in my chest. As dawn broke, I saw that we were moving towards the coast of what I believed was the mainland. There were people there and we did not need to stop. It was noon when I noticed that the snekke was not moving as quickly as it should. “Sven, go and check the prow. We seem to be dipping more than we should.”

  When he came back his face told me all. “We are taking on water. It must have been when we hit their boat.”

  I could see the land. It was some twenty miles away to the north east. In the back of my mind, I vaguely remembered a rock we had seen south of it. “Start bailing. Use the cooking pots, the cauldron, my helmet, anything which will hold water.”

  My memory had not been playing tricks. I saw two tiny rocks. When I first spied them, I thought that they were too small to land but, as we neared them I saw that the closest looked to be a mile long. There were seals basking on the beach. If seals basked then we could land. The wind saved us. We reached the beach, scattering the seals before too much water filled our bows and dragged us beneath the waves. As I slipped over the side I peered across the narrow neck of the island to the mainland beyond. I saw no immediate danger.

  We pulled her out of the water. We had not broken any of the strakes but the collision had sprung them. We had nails but we would need to seal them. “Find driftwood and light a fire.” I spied a couple of spindly trees. “Sven go and cut them down. I want planks making and then we can strengthen the bows.”

  “I just have an axe. We need an adze to shape them.”

  “I do not care how it looks. Just so long as it is stronger. Dreng, empty the bows.” I took the glue and the pine tar. We had two small clay cooking pots. We had not used them yet. I intended to use them to melt the glue and the pine tar. We would never use them again.

  When the fire was going, I placed the two pots close to the fire to gently heat them through. I saw the thin tree fall and hurried over to Sven. “Give me the axe.” I took the axe from him and hacked a triangular piece from the stump of the trunk. I then brought the axe over my head and struck the trunk in the centre along its length. I put the wedge in the split and hammered it in. The tree was small enough that it first creaked and then began to split. “Strip the bark from it while I make a second wedge.”

  The rest of the crew joined in and I took a second wedge. I put the second wedge higher up the split and I hammered it in. The trunk split. We repeated the same action with the two halves. We had two rounded pieces of wood and two crude planks. We took the four planks back to the snekke. They were slightly too long for the damaged part but they would add to the buoyancy. They would slow us but a little. We had not discarded the bandages I had worn on my head and my back. They were already soaked for they lay in the bows.

  “Rek and Fótr, I want you to place the bloody bandages next to the bows where the planks are split. Dreng, hold the first plank in place and press against it. Sven put the glue and the tar on to heat.” When he had gone, I said, “Now I am going to hammer a nail in by the bow. It is a long one so make certain your hands are not near it. I have twelve nails. I will put five in each strake.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  I reversed the axe and drove the first nail into the strake. The strake was soft and it went through that easily. It snagged on the bloody bandage but I drove it harder and it began to bite into the plank. That was harder.

  “It is through.”

  I gave one last bang and then moved to the other end. I repeated the process. It was easier there, for there was no bloody cloth and the strake was not sprung there. By the time I had finished nailing on both planks in place the glue was hot. We had some fur from one of the skulls of the deer we had hunted. I had intended making a hat. This was more important. I used the hide as a brush to spread the glue over the sprung strakes and those around them. While that dried, I went to the other side and hammered two nails into the two rounded pieces of timber to hold them against the side of the drekar. “Jam barrels against the repairs on both sides.”

  “Brother, why do we need planks on the larboard side? The strakes there are not sprung.”

  “True, Fótr, but we need the snekke to be balanced. Use the fire to cook some food and I will paint the hull with pine tar. We will have to wait here until it is dried.”

  Sven pointed to the northeast, “Do not make it too long, Captain.”

  I followed his finger and saw a huddle of people on the cliff tops of the land to the north west. I knew not if it was an island or the mainland. I had yet to fully explore the land. We had been seen. We could not hurry the drying. I smiled, “Let us eat and then prepare to do battle again in case they are foolish enough to take on the cubs of the fox!” It was little enough but it made them smile.

  Night had fallen by the time I was satisfied that the tar had dried. We still had some left and I was prepared to land again if we had to. The question was where? Wherever we landed now the locals knew we were coming.

  I had Sven in the bows when we set sail. I did not use full sail as we headed east. I wanted the bows to ease into the sea. We sailed for some hours and Sven came astern. “It is dry, Captain. I think the repair will hold.”

  I nodded, “I will not risk full sail yet. Get some rest. Come the dawn we will use full sail and trim the cargo.”

  I knew from Ulf North Star that a slight adjustment in the way a ship was laden could add speed and make life easier. We had the larger barrels around the mainmast. As we sailed north and east, I debated leaving the smaller barrels at the bows and using the humans aboard to balance us. If I had Rek and Fótr at the bows we would ride slightly higher there and damage the repair less. Sven and Dreng could sit by the mast. One thing was certain, I had had my last full night’s sleep until we reached our home.

  I would not have a moment free from worry for the whole voyage back to our home. ‘Jötnar’ was hurt. I hoped it was not a mortal wound. If she succumbed while we were close to land then one of us might make land but once we had passed the first landfall then we had an empty ocean for forty days.

  The sun shone for eight days. The wind blew for eight days. It meant I was able to add more detail to the map of the first landfall and to keep a more accurate record of our course. I determined to teach the others how to sail the snekke and read the compass. My encounter with the bear and deer had shown me that my thread could be cut in an instant. Even Fótr had lessons and he proved adept. I suppose he was like I was when Ulf North Star and my father had taught and trusted me. I never slept at night. I could use the stars but they could not. However, I was happy for them to steer during the day. Then Dreng became increasingly unwell. He first began to vomit and then had a fever. It was good that they had little to do for Rek and Fótr tended to him while Sven aided me. As I look back, I think I should have done more but I was not a healer. I trie
d to make amends later.

  We had enough rain to keep the plants I had brought watered. There were green berries on the plant as well as riper ones. We ate the ones which were about to become overripe. They prospered and new shoots appeared. We had not had the opportunity to fish for the larger fish. I saw a shoal of them. They leapt from the water close to the snekke one day. I remembered Gytha’s words of food leaping towards us. I now saw it. Sven shook his head, “See the size of them, captain! Imagine cooking one of those. It could feed five families.”

  “And out here, in the ocean, who could catch one? We have seen a few sharks. They must eat well but you can see why they are grown so big and so bold.”

  His words set me to thinking. There was a new land to the west of us and none had heard of it. There were people there but they were like none I had ever seen before. What else lay beyond the western sea? I suppose it was the open ocean. Few men liked to sail beyond the sight of land. If we had a better way of recording our position then who knew what was possible? My crude maps could only be read by me. Or perhaps my crew. We knew what each squiggle meant. We knew what the marks meant. If we perished on the way home then they would be lost. The five of us were now the most valuable thing the clan possessed. We were the key to a safer future and a better life.

  The only dark cloud was Dreng. He had the shits. We had all had them but Dreng seemed to suffer worse than any of us. They were so bad that Sven and Rek had to hold him as he hung over the side of the snekke. I told him to drink as much as possible. He seemed to improve albeit briefly. I watched the others. They seemed healthy enough.

  We were twenty days into our voyage when the weather changed. It was not just that we lost the sun and the sky above became a sea of white, then grey and finally black clouds. It was also the fact that the seas became rougher and rain fell. So much began to fall that we had to rig the spare sail and, instead of saving the water, we directed it over the side for within half a day we had full barrels and the snekke was in danger of becoming swamped. The rain fell for three days off and on. The winds blew us south and east instead of north and east. We reefed the sail but I knew that I now had less information about our true position.

  When the sun returned and we began to dry out I spoke with Sven. “I am unsure of our position. We have sailed east and north for twenty days. I think we were more than halfway home. The three days of storm has taken us south and east.”

  He looked at my maps. I had one with Larswick still there. The now burned town was marked with the cross of the church we had used as our home. “If we head north and east and miss Maevesfjörður then we might strike Hibernia or Føroyar. We would know where we were then.”

  I looked at the sky and then the tally stick, “According to my stick it will be the longest day in ten days’ time. We know that in Maevesfjörður that meant that there was barely any night. At Larswick we had some hours of darkness. When we reach that day, we will have an idea of how far north we are. If we barely have a night then we have sailed far enough north. If we have some hours of darkness then we still have some way to go.”

  Sven nodded, “You are a navigator!”

  We sailed north and east. When we reached the longest day, I used the hourglass to measure the length of the night. It was almost three hours. We were still south of our home. We had seen no land birds and few seabirds. The land lay many days away It was two days later that Dreng became far worse. He had had problems since we had set sail. He had had loose bowels ever since. Fótr and Rek waved for me to come forward after he had failed to wake up.

  “Brother, he has had the shits for days. This morning he has not woken up.”

  “Why did you not tell me it was so serious?”

  “He thought it would pass. He seemed to get better when we went to the second island but, since before the storm he has become worse.”

  Sven was steering and I looked at the two of them, “You are both well? You do not have Dreng’s symptoms?”

  They shook their heads. “No, Erik. We are the same now as when we sailed here. Dreng was the one who became ill when we were on the island.”

  I nodded. That was normal. “Has he eaten anything which is different?”

  “No, but, on the island, he liked to go off and forage. He ate different things from us. Perhaps you should ask Sven. He ate with Dreng.”

  We had become three small crews. In my eagerness to balance the boat I had made a situation where we all ate separately. “Keep him warm and give him as much water as you can. If either of you notices anything different in your own bodies then tell me!” They nodded. I went back to the steering board. “Dreng does not look well. Does he eat the same as you?”

  “No, Captain. He used to keep little pieces of food which he would nibble. He ate the deer and the seal. He ate the fish but he did not eat the garlic as we did. The insects bit him more than any of us.”

  I remembered that. When we had hunted the deer Fótr and Rek had eaten the wild garlic and they had not suffered as many bites. Dreng’s face had puffed up red and angry. I suddenly remembered that he had been bitten by biting insects on the first island. Had they poisoned him? I needed Gytha. I resumed my place at the steering board and, clutching the blue stone, asked Gytha and the Allfather for help. None came.

  Later that day Fótr waved me to the mast where we had laid Dreng, “Brother he is barely breathing and look,” he pointed to his breeks. Dreng had emptied his bowels.

  “Fetch my sword. I fear Dreng is dying.” As he went, I leaned close and spoke in Dreng’s ear. “You have sailed far with me Dreng son of Ebbe. I fear you are slipping into the Otherworld.” Fótr returned and I took the sword hilt and placed it in his hands. “Here is my sword. If you do pass then this will be your path to Valhalla. I pray to the Allfather that you live but I fear your eyes have seen the sun for the last time.” I turned to the other two, “Watch him.” Returning to the stern I said, “Sven, go and watch your friend. I fear he is dying.”

  The sun was setting behind us when Sven stood and called, “Captain, Dreng is dead. He breathes no longer.”

  I had been expecting it but that made it no easier. “Lower the sail. We will bury him and send him to the Otherworld. I pray my sword has granted him entry to Valhalla and he can speak with our father, Lars, there. He will be reunited with his own father, Ebbe.”

  When the snekke was still and bobbed respectfully in the sea we took my sword from his fingers and wrapped them around his own dagger. We took some of the ballast and we put the stones in his boots. We wanted him to sink. Ran would watch over him at the bottom of the ocean. That done I spoke, “Dreng you came to me as a child and found a new world with me. You became a man and I was honoured to sail with you. I swear that your mother and your brother and sister shall be watched over by me. Go to the Allfather.” I nodded to Sven. The two had been friends.

  “Dreng we had hopes. We shared dreams. You died too soon but I swear that my life will be one in which you can share. When you watch from the Otherworld know that all that I do will be in your memory. I will sire a son and he will be Dreng Svensson. I will teach him about you, the friend who sailed to the edge of the world.” I saw that Fótr was weeping. I nodded to Sven and we lifted Dreng’s body and slipped it over the side. His sealskin boots, made from the seals we had hunted together, dragged his body beneath the waves. Even as we hoisted the sail a single gull swooped over and called to us. Dreng was in the Otherworld.

  Dreng’s death cast a pall over the snekke. Everyone’s spirits plummeted. We knew we were close to home. All of us had hoped that he would recover but whatever it was inside him had been deadly. In addition to the loss of the person we had lost his weight and we had to rebalance the snekke. Sven was the most affected. He became more silent. He was grieving. I had lost a mother but this was different. Dreng had been just a little younger than Sven and they had shared hopes and dreams. It made Sven look at his own life. As we swapped positions so that he could sail he spoke to me three days afte
r we had buried Dreng.

  “Captain, when we set sail, I wished to be a navigator like you. Now that Dreng is dead I wish to take a wife and to learn how to farm. Does that disappoint you?”

  “No, Sven, for I chose this life and I am happy. There may come a time when I am ready to take a wife and leave the sea but not yet. The land we spied I would like to explore.”

  “The land with the fierce warriors?”

  “The skræling?” I nodded, “I saw nothing in the way they fight to frighten me. In the hall at Maevesfjörður, I have a mail byrnie. Their weapons could not penetrate it. When we fought the Danes at Larswick we fought many enemies and they were armed as we were. We won. I believe we can carve out a home in the west. Who knows we might be able to civilize these skrælings?”

  As I settled down in my bear fur to sleep, I dreamed of a home in the new land.

  The wind had been consistently with us all the way east. I noticed as I made my mark on the tally stick that the days were not getting any longer yet we were still travelling north and east. I also noticed that the air felt colder. I made a decision. I would sail further east than north. The wind took us quicker. I was aware that we might miss Maevesfjörður to the north of us and so I had Fótr and Rek watch the larboard side for signs of land. The sea bird which had appeared when Dreng had died had told me that land was within bird flight. The question was, where?

  It was the middle of Sólmánuður when Fótr shouted, “Brother! I see a cloud due north of us. It does not move like the others.”

  “You think it is the island of ice and fire?”

  Fótr had grown. Since Dreng’s death, he had gone about his work differently. He was now more confident, “I believe it is worth investigating. If it is the land of ice and fire then our present course will make us miss it. If I am wrong then I will apologize.”

 

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