* * *
“Well, I did it,” Asgar told Magnus as they stood together in the prow the next day. Magnus had been on fire to find out what had happened, but knowing they must be careful. he’d waited until mid-morning to approach Asgar. In the meantime, Asgar had exchanged words with a half-dozen other men. There would be no reason for Croa to connect Asgar’s nighttime visit to the hold with him.
“Did she appear well?” Magnus asked.
“Aye. Unlike the other women. I didn’t even get to see them. They were too sick. Your wench is the only one I got a look at. She is comely, although not to my taste. Hardly such a beauty I would risk my life over.”
Magnus didn’t know whether to feel relieved or insulted. He didn’t want Asgar to desire Ailinn, but the way he dismissed her...as if she were far inferior to what he’d expected... It made Magnus feel like defending her and pointing out that in daylight, Ailinn’s eyes were the most fascinating, magical hue, her hair as rich and dazzling as polished bronze. That he’d never seen a woman with such a fine, graceful form. But then he realized it would be ridiculous to say such things.
“How did she respond when you told her I was on the ship?” he asked.
Asgar shrugged. “She asked how far it was to York.”
A vague disappointment afflicted him. He’d thought she’d be excited and pleased to learn she wasn’t alone, that there was some hope she might be rescued. Didn’t she realize what he’d risked in following her onto the ship? But perhaps he expected too much of her. In asking about York, she was merely being practical. He couldn’t fault her for that.
“I appreciate what you’ve done,” he told Asgar. “I’ll try to find some way to repay you.”
“Aye. It got a bit sticky when Croa saw me climbing out of the hold. But I can bluff my way out of pretty much anything. As for repaying me, we’ll leave that up to Lady Ailinn’s companions.” Asgar winked.
Magnus knew another twinge of unease at the thought of how Ailinn would react if anything happened to the other women. But that was probably the least of his worries. First, he had to get them away from Croa. “Does that mean you’d consider helping me free the women when we get to York?” he asked Asgar.
“I don’t know if I’d go so far as that. We’ll have to see what happens.” He motioned to the darkening sky. “First we have to get to York, and with the weather we’re about to sail into, arriving there is no sure thing.”
A chill of warning went through Magnus as he surveyed the clouds building on the horizon. “You think we’re in for a bad storm?”
“Bad enough.”
“But a big ship like this should be able to weather almost anything.”
“You might think that the bigger the vessel, the better she’d ride the waves. But that isn’t true. All the cargo on this ship is going to slow us down.” He motioned. “Take a look at the other two vessels. See how much higher they ride the waves? They don’t carry a fraction of the cargo we do. There’s several dozen casks of wine in the hold, along with other heavy cargo.”
“If things get too bad, maybe Croa will have to throw some cargo overboard.”
“Perhaps,” Asgar answered, sounding dubious. “But I suspect it will be a last resort with Croa. He’s a greedy sort. Look at all the trouble he’s gone to with the women. I’m sure he could have sold them for a good price in Dublin, but he obviously thinks he can get more in York. If they were my merchandise, I’d have taken the first offer and been rid of the lot of them. Slaves are a huge nuisance. They have to be fed and clothed, and guarded and watched every moment. They’ll defy you and try to escape all the time.”
“Well, can you blame them?” Magnus asked. “What would you do if you were taken captive and forced to serve another man?”
Asgar looked at him. “I would cut my own throat before submitting to such humiliation. Or, more likely, I would die fighting anyone who tried to capture me.”
Magnus nodded. “I would do the same. But it’s different for women. They have no means of resisting.”
Asgar laughed. “You’re a peculiar man to consider such things.” He punched Magnus in the shoulder. “No offense intended.”
Magnus smiled sheepishly, then joined Asgar in perusing the heavens. As he observed the ominous greenish-gray hue of the sky, he experienced a new anxiety. Asgar was right. The weather was definitely changing for the worse.
Chapter 8
As the ship crested a wave, Ailinn tensed in anticipation of the downward crash that would follow. When it came, the force sent the women’s pallets sliding into the barrels behind them. Gormlaith screamed. Ailinn gritted her teeth to keep from doing likewise. She’d never been so afraid, not even when her family and household were being attacked. At the time, she’d been too filled with helpless rage to experience fear. This was different. The ship that had seemed so huge when moored at the dock was now being tossed about on the waves like a twig.
“Are we going to die?” Ullach’s voice barely carried above the sound of the wind and the groan of the ship’s timbers.
“Of course not,” Ailinn responded, although she didn’t really believe it. They would indeed be lucky not to perish. At least they were down here in the hold rather than clinging to the deck above. How did the men manage to stay aboard as the ship pitched and tossed so violently? She thought of Magnus and wondered how he was faring. If not for her, he wouldn’t even be on this ship.
She shivered. Her cloak and kirtle were soaked. A new fear beset her. If it continued to rain and seawater continued to splash onto the deck, the hold would soon fill with water.
Reaching out for Brina, she shook her. “Brina, you must sit up. The water is rising. Ullach, try and get Gormlaith upright as well.”
Brina groaned as Ailinn sought to prop her against one of the wooden casks.
“Christos save us,” exclaimed Ullach as she helped Gormlaith to a sitting position. “We're going to drown!”
“The water isn’t so high yet,” Ailinn answered, trying to convince herself. “If it does keep rising, we can climb on the casks and keep our heads above water that way.”
“Ohhh,” Brina moaned again. She appeared beyond speech, as if the sickness had robbed her of all normal faculties. Perhaps that was a blessing. Brina was too ill to understand the danger they faced. At the same time, Ailinn greatly missed the comfort of Brina’s reassuring voice. Her maid had always seemed able to find some glimmer of hope in any situation. This storm would be a challenge even for Brina’s cheerful nature. As the ship tilted upwards on another massive wave, Ailinn closed her eyes and began to pray.
* * *
Magnus crouched on the deck and braced himself against the sea chest as the ship rolled through the swells. He was soaked to the skin despite the oiled leather tunic he’d put over his woolen one. It protected him from the lashing rain, but couldn’t shield his body from the water splashing over the deck. There was more and more of it, sweeping across the wooden surface and soaking everything.
A good measure of the water was filling the hold. He thought of the Irishwoman and how wet and cold she must be. If the water rose too high, there was a chance she and her companions would drown. Of course, Magnus thought grimly, by the time things reached that state, they’d all be doomed. The ship was well-built and sturdy, but no vessel could stay afloat if its hold were swamped, especially when loaded with cargo.
Croa should give the order to begin bailing. But Croa was hiding away in the tent. Magnus felt a stab of fury at his adversary. He’d never been in a storm this intense, but he knew if Sigurd were commanding this ship, he wouldn’t be huddling under a shelter. Nay, his former captain would be moving around on the deck, checking on his men and making the necessary decisions to safely ride out the gale.
He moved to the other side of the sea chest and shouted over to Asgar, “Shouldn’t we be doing something besides clinging to the ship and waiting for it to founder?”
To Magnus’s surprise, it was Oleif who answered. He appeared to be making h
is way along the deck toward his own sea chest. “Croa’s worthless,” Oleif said, then spat on the deck for emphasis. “Cowering away in the tent like a woman.”
“Did you speak to him?” Asgar asked.
“Aye. But he hardly responded. His face was as white as whey and from the way he clutched the Thor’s hammer he wears around his neck, it’s clear he believes the only thing that can save us is the mercy of the gods.” Oleif grimaced in disgust.
“Then we’re going to have to do what needs to be done on our own,” said Magnus. “Let’s start bailing out the hold.”
Oleif didn’t respond, but Asgar said, “Magnus’s right. We can’t wait for Croa to give the order to start bailing. If we wait too long, we may find ourselves arguing these matters with water up to our necks.”
With a nod to Magnus, Asgar started forward. Magnus followed. When he looked back, he saw that Oleif was behind them as well.
Moving from sea chest to sea chest, the three men struggled across the deck of the ship. Along the way, they stopped to talk with several other men. All of them responded with angry glances toward the tent and some joined them. The crewmen finally reached the mast and huddled around the foot of it. While the sail had long since been taken down, the huge timber creaked and swayed in the storm.
Magnus shouted to be heard above the gale. “Oleif says he tried to talk Croa and he didn’t respond. I don’t see how we can wait for him to give the order to begin bailing. By the time he decides to take action, it may be too late. We have to start bailing now.”
“What’s wrong with Croa?” someone asked.
“It’s the curse,” a man named Bragi shouted back. “Croa thinks the storm arose because the Irishwoman cursed him.”
“What Irishwoman?” asked a man everyone called Bluetooth because of his bad teeth. “What curse?”
Bragi gestured toward the hold. “There’s a half dozen women thralls down there. One of them cursed Croa, told him she was calling on her gods to cause a storm that would send this ship to the bottom of the sea.”
“Aye, I heard the tale,” another man said. “Croa told the whole alehouse about it. Thought it was a huge jest. But he wasn’t laughing a while later when he found out that his warehouse had caught fire and his men were attacked by a grendel.”
“If it’s the witch’s curse that caused this, maybe we should throw her overboard,” Bluetooth suggested.
Panic gripped Magnus. If the whole crew decided to get rid of Ailinn, there was no way he’d be able to stop them.
But Asgar scoffed, “Why would the woman call down a storm to sink the ship she’s on? Rather than worrying about the woman, let’s get some buckets and pots and begin bailing out the hold.”
“That’s the sensible thing to do,” Magnus said.
“Aye,” another man responded.
“Aye,” said a second.
“But while we’re down there, there’s no reason we shouldn’t grab the woman and toss her overboard,” said Bluetooth. “That might help us.”
Magnus didn’t wait to hear more but seized an iron cauldron lying nearby and headed for the hold. In his haste to get down the ladder, he slipped on the wet rungs and fell, landing in knee-deep cold water. He got quickly to his feet and made his way to the cargo area where the women were. “Ailinn,” he called out. “Ailinn.”
“Blessed Jesu! It’s Magnus. You can’t let Croa see you.”
“Listen to me,” Magnus said. He moved deeper into the hold, ducking his head. “The men think you caused this storm by cursing Croa. There’s talk of throwing you overboard. I want you to crawl back in the cargo area as far you can. Find some place where no one can reach you. You’re much smaller than a man. If you hide somewhere inaccessible, they may not try too hard to get to you.”
“But the other women...I can’t leave them.”
“Don’t argue with me! Your life might depend on your doing as I say!”
“I can’t leave them!”
“I’ll make certain they’re safe. I promise. But you must go now. The other men are coming.” He reached out and grasped her hand. Her fingers were like ice. The next moment, he found himself pulling her into his arms. He cradled her next to his body and nuzzled his mouth against her hair. Despite everything she’d endured, she still smelled sweet and womanly. “Ailinn,” he murmured. “Ailinn.”
A sound behind him brought him to his senses. He released her. “Hurry. I don’t want them to find you.”
Ailinn watched Magnus leave her, feeling stunned. “Ullach,” she called out.
“I’m here,” the other woman murmured.
“Magnus says I must hide, that the men want to throw me overboard. I don’t want to leave you, but he promised to look after you.” Ailinn clenched her hands together, frantic with fear. What had she done? She’d only meant to frighten Croa by calling down her native gods. How could she have guessed they’d encounter a storm? Until Magnus had mentioned it, she hadn’t even recalled the curse.
“You must do as he says,” Ullach said weakly. “We’ll manage somehow.”
Ailinn squinted into the darkness of the hold, trying to decide where to hide. This side of the cargo area wasn’t that big. The other was larger. And they would be less likely to look for her there.
She flattened herself against the side of the ship’s hull and began to inch her way forward. When she reached the opening to the upper deck, she could make out Magnus and two other men. They were filling buckets and cauldrons with water and handing them to a man perched on the ladder, who then handed the containers to another man on the deck.
They were intent on their task and didn’t notice her. She crept forward, keeping as close to the side of the ship as possible, using her fingers to grip the overlapping planks making up the hull. The whole vessel still swayed and pitched, and when they struck a particularly big wave, Ailinn lost her grip and was thrown into the water. Getting up, she saw that Magnus and the other men had also lost their footing. This was her chance. Getting down on her hands and knees, she crawled past the men and behind the mast. She pressed herself against the base of the giant timber and caught her breath for moment, then wriggled her way into the crowded cargo area.
* * *
Bragi, working beside Magnus, put down the bucket he was using to bail and stretched his back and shoulders. “This isn’t working. Every bucket we haul out is replaced by two more in the time it takes for the others to dump it over the side.”
Although Magnus agreed with him, he continued to fill buckets and hand them to Oleif, who stood on the ladder to exchange them for empty ones from the men working on deck. Bluetooth was also down in the hold bailing, and Magnus feared that at any moment he might start in again about throwing Ailinn overboard. Magnus had caught a glimpse of her moving into the other side of the cargo area, but there was no way she’d be able to hide from a determined group of men.
After a time, Bragi stopped bailing.
“Are you giving up?” asked Magnus.
“We can’t get ahead of it,” Bragi responded. “The big problem is how low in the water the ship is riding. If we could get some of this cargo out of here, we might be able to lighten the vessel and avoid being swamped by the waves.”
Magnus’s worry intensified. If the men started pulling things out of the cargo area, they might come upon Ailinn and decide she was part of the cargo that should be jettisoned.
Oleif joined them in the hold. Bragi motioned to the stern-end cargo area and said, “Let’s get busy.”
“Nay!” Magnus exclaimed. “We have to be careful about what we throw overboard.” When the two men looked at him, he said, “If we do make it through this storm, we’ll need fresh water and food until we reach land. Especially since there’s a good chance this gale has blown us off course. I don’t know about the two of you, but I can’t tell a barrel of wine from a barrel of water.”
“Magnus’s right,” Oleif said. “We don’t want to toss everything. We need to leave the drinking water,
barrels of saltfish and other supplies.” He gestured to Bragi. “Maybe you should get Hafgrim. He’s the one who supervised the loading of the ship. He’ll know what can be safely tossed.”
Bragi started up the ladder to fetch Hagrim. Magnus returned to bailing. All at at once there was a commotion on the deck above. Even above the roar of the waves and the wind, Magnus could make out Croa’s bellow. Two heartbeats passed and Croa was moving down the ladder. He dropped heavily into the hold and shouted, “Where is she? Where is that foul Irish witch?” Ducking into the cargo area, he grabbed the tall dark-haired woman. The woman screamed loudly in Irish, calling out for Ailinn.
Magnus watched in horror as Croa began dragging the woman toward the opening. Recalling his promise to Ailinn, he shouted, “Stop! Putting the women overboard won’t help. What we need to do is get rid of some of these heavy barrels rather than wasting time on the women.”
“Let her go!” a woman’s voice cried out. “I’m the one you want. Leave her be!”
Magnus insides clenched in horror as Ailinn appeared from the other side of the hold. “Nay!” he cried.
She shot him a desperate look, then faced Croa and said, “I’m the one you want, you stupid Norse pig! I’m the one who cursed you. And I’ll do it again if you don’t let Gormlaith go!”
Croa’s face curdled with anger and he dropped the woman he was carrying. As Ailinn tried to get to the woman to help her up, Croa seized Ailinn’s arm and began dragging her up the ladder. Magnus let out a roar and started after them. He’d barely gotten his foot on the first rung when he felt someone clutching at his arm.
“Think, you fool!” Asgar cried. “If you go after him without a weapon, you have no chance. No chance at all.”
“I have to try,” Magnus gritted out. “I have to...”
There was a cracking sound as the ladder gave away. Magnus found himself lying in the water with the wreckage of the ladder on top of him. He shoved off the splintered wood and got up sputtering. Looking up, he saw that Croa had managed to boost both himself and Ailinn onto the deck. Magnus grabbed one of the barrels to stand on and hoisted himself up, scrambling onto the deck.
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