He glanced up at the sky, trying to gauge how long it had been since he sent Orm off with a torch and instructions on what to do. Orm was to approach the warehouse through the narrow walkway on the side, set the fire in the back of the building, then circle around and appear to be approaching from the opposite direction. If he encountered a guard or any of Croa’s men, he was to try to engage in them in conversation and distract them as long as possible.
Magnus’s stomach clenched as he worried what would happen to his friend if he were caught. He told himself that Orm was quick-witted and clever, despite his passion for dicing and other games of chance. Unless he was discovered in the actual act of setting the blaze, he should be able to talk his way out of trouble.
The mist thickened, until Magnus could no longer make out the shape of the ship, nor scarcely anything around him. Although it wasn’t cold, the dampness of the fog seeped through his heavy wool tunic and settled with uncomfortable clamminess on his skin. He shivered. By now Orm should have started the fire. Why had no alarm been raised?
A moment later, he detected shouts and cries in the distance. The noise grew louder. He heard men running toward the dock shouting “Fire! Fire!” The previously quiet dock came alive. Men began to disembark from the ships, the sound of their hobnail boots loud on the plank walkways that had been set up to make loading the vessels less arduous. They cursed and muttered as they made their way through the fog. Several men passed Magnus carrying torches, the flames glowing pinkish gold in the haze.
He heard the cry to bring buckets. The warehouse was too far away from the dock to make it feasible to put it out with water from the river. But there was a cistern for collecting rainwater not far from the warehouse. Magnus envisioned the men forming a line and passing buckets along it to quench the blaze. If they were organized and efficient, it wouldn’t take them long to gain control of the fire. The thought spurred Magnus into action. It was now or never.
It seemed he’d been staring at the ship so long its exact location should be carved on his brain. He moved forward slowly. After a quick search he found a mooring rope and scrambled on board. As soon as he reached the deck, he paused, listening. Sounds always seemed to carry better in fog. He could hear the creak and groan of the timbers as the ship shifted in the water, but otherwise, it was deadly quiet. Was it possible all the crew had left the vessel?
From the deep pocket of his tunic, Magnus withdrew a heavy wooden stick and held it at the ready. Then he crept forward, trying to guess at the distance to the opening in the center of the ship leading to the hold. He nearly tripped on a pile of mooring lines. A moment later he ran into a wooden cask and banged his shin. He froze, listening. Around him, all was silent except for the normal sounds of the ship. He let out his breath in relief and took another cautious step forward.
“Who’s there?” a man's voice called out of the murk. Magnus went rigid once more, then ducked down and sought to hide himself behind the cask.
“Probably the cat that’s been prowling around ever since we docked,” a second man answered.
The first man grunted.
Two guards, Magnus thought with sinking heart. That made things more difficult. He would have to deal with them separately.
Magnus sensed one of the men moving towards him. He waited, every muscle taut. Gradually, he made out the silhouette of the guard. He waited until the man turned to move away, then rose from his crouch and with a quick, downward blow, struck the guard on the head.
The man fell slowly, mumbling to himself. Magnus held his breath, wondering if he would have to strike another blow.
“Jorund?” the other guard called.
Magnus resumed his crouched position behind the cask. The second guard approached. “Jorund?” he called again, his voice uncertain. Magnus could hear the man moving toward him, his breathing fast and irregular. He waited until the man was very near, then jumped up and struck. The man went down as the other had.
Magnus started towards the cargo opening. He was sweating profusely, and he had a panicked sense of time passing. Hurry! Hurry! The thought drummed into his mind. Finding the opening amidship, he let himself down into the hold and whispered, “Lady Ailinn.”
There was a gasp. Then she answered, “Aye. I’m here.”
“There’s not much time. We must get all of you off the ship and quickly.”
“What about the guards?”
“They’re both unconscious for now.”
“You’re mad,” she whispered. “We’ll never get away.”
Magnus gritted his teeth in exasperation, then answered, “I’ve taken a lot of risks to give you this chance. When we spoke earlier, you promised to trust me. You promised to do as I asked.”
“I didn’t think you’d come up with a scheme like this. Even if we manage to get to free of the ship, what will we do then?”
“There’s a small boat moored a short distance away. I plan to get you onto that and take you down river. When they discover you’re missing, they’ll search for you in the longphort, not on the river.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Aren’t you willing to try? If we’re discovered, I’m the one who will suffer. You’ll simply be returned to your current circumstances.”
She seemed to be thinking about it. Finally, she said, “I’ll tell the other women to gather their things.”
“Please hurry. There’s little time.”
There was a commotion in the distance.
“Men are coming!” Ailinn exclaimed. “You must be away at once!”
Magnus strained his ears. Hearing the sound of voices growing nearer, he cursed loudly.
“Go!” she cried. “Save yourself!”
She’s right. There’s not time to rescue her and get away. Although his mind knew these things, his body wouldn’t seem to obey. How could he leave her? He’d vowed to help her.
He reached out and clasped her delicate hands in his. “I won’t abandon you, lady. I vow it.”
“Go!” she repeated, her voice desperate. “You must be away now or you’ll pay with your life!”
“Would you care if I were killed, lady?” He could almost hear his heart beating as he waited for her answer.
“Of course, I would care. I’m not heartless.” Although the words reflected her usual prickly manner, her voice trembled and she squeezed his hands.
Magnus felt longing well up inside him. “Until we meet again.” He gently compressed her dainty fingers.
Releasing her, he climbed out of the hold and made his way to the mooring rope on the end of the ship. He slid down the rope and landed on the dock. A moment later, he saw the glow of torches through the mist as a large group of men advanced toward the ships.
Magnus moved a little way down the dock, so he would be out of the torchlight. As the men began to board the ship he’d just been on, Magnus let out a sigh. He’d come so close. If only she hadn’t hesitated. But even if they’d left immediately, it was unlikely they would have gotten off the ship in time.
He’d tried. Done the best he could. No one could blame him for failing in his vow. Even she had urged him to leave, to save himself. The memory of holding her hands in his filled his thoughts and senses. Her skin like silk. The fine, small bones of her fingers.
The image of a beautiful, trapped bird came to him once again. Except she wasn’t a bird, but a woman. His inner vision filled with the image of how she’d looked the first time he’d seen her. Those haunting green-gray eyes. The red-gold richness of her hair. Her pale, perfect skin. The soft, graceful curves of her body. She was as fair as the rainbow he’s seen glinting in the mist earlier that day.
But it wasn’t only her beauty that aroused him. Or her desperate circumstances that brought about this intense need to rescue her. There was more to his feelings. He also admired her pride, her stubborn will, her loyalty to her companions. She seemed to him a princess not only because of her elegant appearance, but because of the way she faced her terrible circumstances with courage an
d bravery. That was the reason he couldn’t abandon her to her fate. She deserved much more.
Resolve filled him. He wouldn’t give up.
He left the shadows and made his way down the dock towards the Waverunner. Halfway there, he encountered Orm. In the light from the torches set around Sigurd’s vessel, Magnus could see the surprise on the young crewman’s face.
“What are you doing here?” Orm cried. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“There wasn’t time to get the women off the ship.”
“So, all my trouble was for nothing? I almost got caught.”
“How did you get away?”
“I hid. Thank Odin I’m a skinny fellow, or I would never have been able to manage it. Not all the buildings around here are as stout and well-made as Croa’s warehouse. Right after I set the fire, a guard came around. I was able to wriggle through the broken wickerwork of a nearby shed and get out of sight. Later, when the fire really caught, there was so much commotion I got away without anyone noticing. Curse it.” Orm shook his head. “I’d hoped you’d make it. But maybe it’s better this way.”
“Why is that?” Magnus asked.
“Now you’ll see your cause is hopeless and give up this crazy notion to rescue the Irishwoman.”
“I haven’t given up.”
“What do you intend to do next? Perhaps you mean to swim after Croa’s ship once it leaves dock and follow them all the way to York to rescue her there.” Orm made a rude sound through his teeth.
“Nay. I won’t have to swim after the ship. I’ll be on it. I’m going to join Croa’s crew. That way I’ll have other opportunities to rescue the woman.”
“What about the Waverunner?” Orm demanded. “I thought you had an agreement with Sigurd.”
“I’m going to speak to him now,” Magnus answered. “I’ll explain that I’m not ready to return north, that I want to do more traveling this sunseason. Sailing with Croa will offer me that opportunity. I’m hoping Sigurd will be sympathetic. I’ll remind him that in a place like this, he’ll have no difficulty hiring more crew.”
“This is witless. You despise Croa. How will you tolerate being near him on a sea voyage? And what makes you think you’ll have any better opportunity to rescue the woman in York than you had here? At least here you had someone to help you. I doubt you’ll be able to convince any of Croa’s crewmen to set fires for you.”
Hearing the note of bitterness in Orm’s voice, Magnus put his hand on the young man’s arm. “I do thank you for your help. I know you risked much to aid me, and I’ll not forget it.” Releasing Orm, Magnus pulled out the money pouch on his belt and spilled some of his dwindling supply of hacksilver into his hand. He thrust the precious metal at Orm. “Here. Take it and buy yourself a night with a pretty whore when you reach Hedeby.”
“Nay.” Orm took a step back. “If you mean to do this, I’m not going to leave you destitute. Indeed, perhaps I won’t leave you at all.”
“What?”
Orm grinned. “I have a fancy to go with you...to see the sights of other longphorts and also how this tale turns out.”
“Nay. You can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Orm asked.
Magnus set his jaw. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Oh? It’s too dangerous for me...but not for you? I’m not a child. Indeed, I doubt I’m more than a handful of years younger than you. I’ve a right to decide what sort of risks I want to take.”
Magnus tried a different tack. “I didn’t mean to insult you. But my situation is different than yours. I made a vow to the Irishwoman and I mean to keep it. But you...you’re bound by no promise or oath.”
“That’s not true,” Orm retorted. “After all, you saved my life last night. It would be very churlish of you to refuse to let me return the favor.”
“Scaring off those scavengers was nothing compared to the dangers we’ll face in joining Croa’s crew and trying to help the Irishwoman.”
“I know that,” Orm said. “And it doesn’t deter me.” He smiled again. “I’ve always been unable to turn away from a truly daring wager. Let me be there when you throw the dice, Magnus. I want to see how this game turns out.”
Chapter 6
Ailinn woke to the sound of someone climbing down the ladder into the hold. In her half-awake state, she thought briefly that it might be Magnus. A moment later, she realized it was only one of the ship’s crew. Her heart sank with disappointment.
The man shouted up to the deck and someone handed down a barrel. He shoved it deep into the storage area on the other side of the underdeck, then returned to get a second barrel.
Brina stirred beside Ailinn. “What’s happening?” she asked sleepily.
“They’re loading the ship.”
Brina sat up. “I thought they’d already done that.”
“That was the cargo—like us.” Bitterness shot through Ailinn. “Now they’re likely loading supplies for the trip—fresh water and more of that loathsome salted fish.” Ailinn’s sense of despair increased. Soon the ship would sail for York, taking her far, far away from her homeland.
A wave of regret passed through her as she recalled the events of the night before. She wished she hadn’t argued with Magnus. But even if they’d left the moment he arrived, there was every reason to think they’d have been discovered. Then Magnus would have been killed and she and the other women returned to their foul prison. It was better this way, she told himself. At least Magnus was alive and had some hope of a future. He deserved that after he’d risked his life for her.
As the man pushed past to load a barrel on their side of the hold, Gormlaith asked, “Sweet Mary, are they going to leave any room for us?”
The loading process continued, and Ailinn began to wonder the same thing. The cargo hold had never beem spacious, but now it was extremely crowded. She considered complaining to the man as he moved past them with another barrel. But there seemed no point. He a hireling who did what he was told.
A short while later, another man came down the ladder. Ailinn recognized him as Thorvald, one of the men who were always around Croa. From the fine quality of his garments she didn’t think he was a servant, although he appeared to do whatever Croa told him. He was the one who’d tied leather thongs on their wrists so they were all bound together.
Ailinn noticed that Thorvald was carrying a small wooden box. He glanced around the dimly lit cargo area, then made his way around the foot of the mast into the other side of the hold. Ailinn’s curiosity was aroused. From his surreptitious manner and the way he cradled the box against his chest, she suspected there might be something valuable inside.
A short while later, she heard Thorvald coming back. He no longer carried the box, which meant he must have stashed it somewhere in the other part of the hold. What was in it? Some sort of treasure? The box had appeared heavy, but if it were filled with silver it would have been much more difficult to carry.
What did it matter? Even if she were able to find the box and it did contain valuables, it would do her no good. She was stuck on this ship, surrounded by her enemies. In a short while, they would be at sea and on their way to a foreign place, far, far away from Ireland.
* * *
“Do you think Croa will take us on?” Orm asked Magnus as the two of them started down the quay. Over their shoulders they carried leather bags containing extra garments and weaponry. Tied to the bags were their otterskin sleeping sacks. The day had dawned clear and the first golden rays of rays of sunlight gilded the curved bows of the Waverunner as they left the ship behind.
“All we can do is try,” Magnus responded to his companion.
“What if he refuses to hire us?”
“That will make things more difficult, but I won’t give up. There are three ships, and Croa can only sail on one of them.” He gave Orm a knowing look.
“You mean to sneak aboard one of the other vessels even if he doesn’t hire us?”
“Aye. I’m determined to
remain near the Irishwoman one way or another.”
Orm shook his head. “I still don’t understand your commitment to her. She’s no kin of yours.”
“I don’t understand my feelings either,” Magnus said. “But I’ve given my word, and I’m duty-bound to follow through. At least we have Sigurd’s favor,” he added. “I thought he might be angered to lose two members of his crew. But he seemed more worried for our safety than upset at our departure.”
“You told me he’s a childhood friend of your brother’s. He must feel some fondness for you, that he agreed so readily to release us.”
“Or it could be that he dislikes Croa and is willing to aid us in thwarting him. At any rate, if Croa talks to Sigurd about us, he’ll be satisfied with what he hears.”
The area of the dock where Croa’s ships were moored was abuzz with activity as slaves loaded up the three vessels. Some of the wooden boxes being taken on board appeared to have been singed by fire. The sight both gratified Magnus and brought back the familiar frustration. His plan to use the fire as a distraction had been a good one. It might even have succeeded if Croa’s men hadn’t been so efficient in putting out the blaze.
As they neared the ship where the Irishwoman was kept, Magnus was startled to see Bors, Skulli’s friend. He was hurrying down the quay carrying a pack. Realizing this might be a good opportunity to get information about hiring on with Croa, Magnus hailed him.
Bors halted and looked at them without recognition.
Orm said, “We met you the night before last. We were with Skulli.”
“Oh, aye.” Bors nodded. “I remember you now. I’m on my way to see your captain—Sigurd I believe his name is. I wanted to talk to him about hiring on as a crewman. Do you think he’ll be interested? I vow I’ve had near as much experience on the sea as any man in this longphort.”
Magnus and Orm exchanged a puzzled look. Magnus said, “I thought you were going to sail with Croa.”
Beyond the Sea Mist Page 7