by Resa Nelson
CHAPTER 6
The next morning, Frayka and Njall bid farewell to their families and watched them walk away from the black sand beach.
Frayka examined a map painted on a piece of leather worn with age that Thorkel had rummaged from the bottom of an old chest. “I don’t understand how this map will do us any good when we’re facing the whole wide world.”
Njall sidled next to Frayka and looked over her shoulder. “I don’t see it being that difficult. It shows the Land of Ice, the Northlands and Midlands, and how they lead to the sea that will take us to the Far East.”
“Everything looks so small on the map,” Frayka said. “Won’t it be easy to get lost? What if we take a wrong turn and end up in some land no one has ever seen before?”
Njall gave her a quick kiss. “Then we’ll have an adventure.”
Frayka rolled up the map and tucked it inside the pouch hanging from her belt. “They seem to be vague directions.”
Njall walked toward the incoming tide. “All we have to do is follow the direction of the rising sun.”
Continuing to battle her last-minute jitters, Frayka stared at the boat her father had given to them. “It’s awfully small.”
Like all Northlander ships, the boat had a low, sleek design with decorations on either end curling up to mimic the tail and head of a fearsome dragon. But after filling it up with enough buckets of water and food to last for the next few weeks, that left just enough room for two people to board.
“Big enough to carry us and supplies,” Njall said. “And it’s got a sail. What more do you want?”
Frayka gazed at the ship on which they’d sailed just days ago, now hauled far up on the beach so that no incoming tide could budge it. “That one served us well.”
“We can’t take it. Blackstone needs it for fishing. We can’t take food out of our neighbors’ mouths.”
Heaving a sigh, Frayka said, “I know. But I’m fond of it.”
Njall grinned. “We made some good memories on that ship. Especially at night. Under the starlight.”
Frayka relinquished a wistful smile. “The past few weeks were quite a revelation.”
Because Blackstone was a small and close-knit settlement—and because its stone houses were so small and placed close together—it offered the young and unmarried people little opportunity for intimacy. Every young man, including Njall, had kept his distance from Frayka because her claim to having portents made them uneasy. Northlanders had no experience with portents, and no one except her father and Rognvald believed Frayka any time she claimed to see the future.
Holding the low rail of the boat with one hand to keep it steady, Njall offered his other hand to Frayka.
Accepting it, Frayka stepped over the rail. Turning her back to the ocean, she sat on one of a few benches lined up from one end of the boat to the other. “It doesn’t even have a lower deck. What happens if we need to take cover?”
Njall shoved the boat from the edge of the beach into the bay. Keeping his body low, he sat next to Frayka. He picked up two oars and handed one to Frayka. “We’ve been given cloaks. That should be cover enough. Why are you so worried? You’re the one who’s been insisting we take this journey.”
Frayka rowed in unison with Njall, keeping a homesick gaze on the Land of Ice. “I insisted on going by myself.”
Njall laughed. “I wager you’re happy to have your husband go with you now!”
Try as she might, Frayka couldn’t keep from laughing. “I suppose I am. You’ve always been better with ships.”
“You’re worried,” Njall said. “But there’s no need. Northlander ships are the finest in the world. They slice through oceans waves like a heated dagger through butter. They sail on sea and river with equal ease. You already know this. You’ve sailed enough to see how solid and reliable they are.”
Still rowing in synchronization with Njall, Frayka noticed how quickly the boat pulled away from the shore, even with only two people rowing. “But it’s not a true ship,” Frayka said. “I find it hard to believe it won’t capsize once we’re surrounded by ocean waves. A larger ship is more stable.”
“It’ll perform just as well as a larger ship,” Njall said. He winked and nudged Frayka with his elbow. “Size doesn’t matter.”
Once they reached a good distance from shore, they raised the sail and directed their small ship toward the early morning sun.
During the next several days, they navigated easily through calm seas overseen by sunny skies. Their little ship cut neatly through the waves and kept an even keel. Finally, they spotted land.
“Njall, look!” Frayka said, pointing to the distant shore. “That must be the Northlands.” Although Frayka and Njall had been to this part of the world before, it had been under dire circumstances, and the lands were so large that she could scarcely remember the small bit of them she’d once seen. Frayka removed the map from her pouch and studied it while seated across from her new husband. She showed the map to him and pointed at the route it showed. “We should follow the coast down toward the Midlands. The most direct route to the Far East would take us across the small sea that separates the Northlands and the Midlands.”
Continuing their voyage, the next morning brought them to the southernmost tip of the Northlands.
In the distant south, opposing the Northlands, spread the northern coast of the Midlands.
Adjusting the sail so that the winds would carry them into the small sea, Njall cast a worried glance toward the sky. “I don’t like the look of those dark clouds hanging over the Midlands. Why don’t we go to the Northland coast and find a place to ride out the storm?”
Frayka studied the sky. “It’s far from us. All we need is to head across this little sea. The weather’s fine there.”
Njall checked the tightness of the knots in the ropes holding the sail in place. “The storm could shift our way. Why risk it?”
Frayka scanned the buckets and containers crowding the ship. “We don’t know how long these supplies will have to last.”
“All the more reason to go ashore now.”
“You’re forgetting something.”
Njall raised a questioning eyebrow.
Frayka gestured toward both shores. “The Northlands and the Midlands are wastelands. There may be no food to be found. Or water. These supplies might have to last until we arrive in the Far East, and even then, we don’t know how long it will take to find people or food or water.”
Satisfied with the rigging, Njall sat on a bench across from Frayka. “Or we might get lucky and find what we need right here.”
“We might not. I don’t want to starve or die of thirst for the sake of a bad decision.”
“What about your portents? Can they tell you what to do?”
Frayka shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s not like standing in front of the house next door and shouting the names of the people who live there so they’ll open the door. I have no control over the portents. They control everything.”
“Everything?” Njall scratched his nose. “How so?”
“You’ve seen what happens when a portent overwhelms me.”
Njall took her hand and held on tight. “I have. And it worries me something fierce, you standing there like your mind’s gone blank.”
Frayka squeezed his hand. “My mind doesn’t go blank. It goes to another place. Another realm. I feel like I leave my body behind and go into some mystical place. And then the portent shows itself to me. Once it shows everything it wants me to see, I’m back in my body and back in this world.”
Njall kissed her fingertips. “You can’t go to that mystical place any time you feel like it?”
Frayka laughed. “No. I go by invitation only.”
“So, your opinion to keep going instead of seeking shelter has nothing to do with portents?”
“No. Just common sense.”
Njall let go of her hand with mock offense. “Wife, you say I have no common sense?”
&
nbsp; Frayka climbed on his lap and draped her arms around his shoulders. “I say we have different opinions. That’s nothing new. But we always figure out a solution together.” She kissed him.
Between kisses, Njall said, “You use your charms to persuade me to do what you want.”
Frayka leaned away from him and smiled. “And you must be the only man in the world who has ever used the word ‘charm’ to describe me.”
Njall grinned. “Then I’m the only man in the world who can see who you truly are.”
His words warmed Frayka. “That makes me the luckiest woman in the world. But you must admit that your decisions often lead you into sticky situations.”
“Well,” Njall said. “You have me there. Protesting will only make it easy for you to give me dozens of examples of my follies.”
“Your follies make for very funny stories,” Frayka said. “But for now, we keep sailing?”
Njall nodded. “For now, we keep sailing.”
For the rest of the morning, their ship made good headway sailing between the two coasts. But by afternoon, the dark clouds above the Midlands blanketed the skies above them. The clouds looked like strange animals thronging shoulder to shoulder. Bursts of light flashed between them, and thunder rumbled like the voice of an angry mob.
The gentle sea turned choppy, and a wicked wind buffeted around the small ship.
Frayka helped Njall take down the sail. They secured the folded sail and the oars to the ship. “I’ve changed my mind,” she shouted. “Let’s head to shore!”
This weather makes no sense. How can such a small sea turn so violent in such a short time?
I should have listened to Njall. He knows far more about ships and sailing. Why couldn’t I trust his opinion?
He nodded and pointed toward the Northland shore. “That way! It looks easier.”
Picking up an oar, Frayka followed Njall’s rhythm to row on a new course.
Njall’s face went slack with fear. “Frayka!”
Before she knew what happened, Frayka realized Njall had knocked her down and covered her body with his.
Peeking over his shoulder, Frayka stared in shock at an enormous wave crashing toward their boat.
CHAPTER 7
The huge wave smashing into the boat pounded against them with so much force that it slammed Njall’s body against Frayka’s chest and knocked the air out of her lungs. Panicking, she thrashed free of Njall. The tumultuous water flung Frayka within the confines of the small ship, and the sharp edges of its benches slammed into her arms and legs before another wave pitched her out of the boat into the open sea.
The frigid seawater made her skin go numb. The dark skies and murky sea clouded her vision, making it impossible to see. Still underwater, the pressure in her chest made her frantic to breathe.
But then Frayka had a brief moment of clarity.
If I go limp, I’ll float up to the surface.
Forcing herself to relax, Frayka focused on letting her body be like a rag doll. Moments later, her buoyancy carried her up to the surface of the sea where she broke through, gasping for air. Rain drove down in sheets all around her. Choking and coughing, she searched for signs of her husband but found none. “Njall!”
A wooden bucket that had held fresh drinking water bumped into her, floating upside down in the sea. Frayka latched onto it with her arms. “Njall!”
Bobbing up and down in the waves with her arms wrapped around the water bucket, Frayka squinted and tried to peer through the pelting rain. Looking to her far left, she made out the shape of their capsized ship. Gripping the bucket with one hand, Frayka used the other to paddle toward the ship.
Njall burst from the sea by the ship’s side.
“Njall!” Frayka shouted, paddling faster.
Turning toward her voice, Njall extended one hand while holding onto the edge of the capsized ship with the other. “Here! Frayka! Here!”
At first, Frayka released the bucket with the intent to swim to Njall.
No—we need the bucket!
Clinging to it, Frayka made her way to her husband’s side. But before she could speak, he pointed at another incoming wave.
“It’s big enough to flip the ship,” Njall shouted. “Dive under and find a bench to hold onto. They’re nailed in tight!” Without another word, he sank below the water’s surface.
Following suit, Frayka filled her bucket with water to remove its buoyant air and then pulled it with her below water. Once submerged, she dipped under the ship’s railing and then emerged into an air pocket where she saw Njall again.
“There!” Njall shouted. “Grab that bench above your head!”
Still holding the bucket, Frayka kicked her feet to lift up high enough to wrap her free arm around the bench seat within reach. When the next moment brought a wave that turned the ship, she held on tight.
But when the wave flipped the ship upright again, it now held so much water that its rails skimmed the rough surface of the sea. Frayka felt as if she were on a ship made of stone that might sink at any moment.
“Frayka!” Njall shouted. He pointed beyond her shoulder. “Look!”
Twisting her neck, Frayka looked back. She stared at the strange formation behind her, not sure what she saw.
The dark clouds and stormy sea appeared to merge together, taking the form of an enormous dragon. When its eyes widened, lightning crackled inside them. When its jaws opened, the roar of thunder filled the air. The dragon’s body undulated, causing the waves surrounding it to become larger and more vicious.
Those waves drove under, around, and beyond the small ship, carrying Frayka and Njall toward the Midlands at a dizzying pace. Frayka huddled down inside the ship and tried to ignore the wicked chill of the seawater sloshing around her.
The headlong waves reached the Midland shore first and carved a watery path into the ground like a plow tilling farmland. The frightful waves continued ahead of the ship, forcing their way across plains and then plummeted through a forest. Frayka stayed down throughout the entire journey, now tucking her head toward her shoulders to protect herself from trees branches as the ship whipped past them.
After a journey that seemed to last for hours, the waves came to a sudden calm.
The driving rain slowed down to a drizzle, and the skies began to clear.
The forceful waves had turned into a new stream running through the forest. The small ship glided on the calm water and then stopped next to land.
Njall climbed out and extended a hand to help Frayka.
Accepting it, Frayka stepped on the forest floor, drenched and shivering.
They stood at the edge of a clearing within the heart of the forest. A circle of grass lay before them, the size of a village. It looked like a patch of harvested land surrounded by towering stalks of grain. In the center of the circle, a cluster of ancient trees with thick trunks towered above the forest. Like the spokes of a wheel, hundreds of branches spread from each immense trunk. The high branches of the ancient trees overlapped to protect the clearing from the elements.
Frayka took a step toward the clearing but then caught her breath in surprise and stopped.
A circle made of stones stood inside the clearing. A regular Northlander ship would have fit easily inside that circle.
Instead, the circle contained charred bone fragments resting in a thick bed of white ashes.
“I think I know where we are,” Njall said. He walked toward the stone circle.
Frayka hurried to catch up and keep pace with him. “We’re in the Midlands,” she said.
When he reached the edge of the stone circle, Njall knelt. “Look,” he said, pointing at the bits of bone. “You can still see the markings on them.”
Surprised to find the ground beneath the protective forest canopy dry and warm, Frayka sat on it, still shivering. “What markings?”
“The markings left behind when the spirit is set free from the bones.”
Frayka peered closer at the contents of bone
fragments and ashes inside the stone circle. “I don’t understand.”
“This is the temple of Limru.”
“I see no temple.”
He spread his arms and gestured at the trees all around them. “A temple of nature, not one built by mortals. This is where the Keepers of Limru were slaughtered.”
Frayka shrugged.
“Didn’t your family ever tell you the stories?” Njall said. “This is where the downfall of the Northlands began.”
This time Frayka didn’t shiver because of the cold. This time she shivered because she remembered the task she’d agreed to perform in exchange for her life.
This place is the beginning of why the dragon gods became so angry that they destroyed the lands of the Northlanders who worshipped them.
“I don’t think we’re here by accident,” Frayka said. “But I know nothing about Limru. Tell me everything you know.”
CHAPTER 8
“I suspect your father never told you about Limru because he’s so tender-hearted,” Njall said. “It’s a difficult story, and I think my own father only told me the parts of it he could bear to speak of.”
The wind rustled through the canopy of leaves high above. A few beams of strong light shot like arrows from spaces between the leaves to the ground far below. Frayka stepped inside one of those beams, grateful for the warmth the sun brought to her face. She stripped off her coat and outer-dress until she only wore her under-dress. She spread her wet clothes on the ground and stood in the light to get dry and warm.
“I don’t care how difficult the story is,” Frayka said. “Tell me.”
Njall followed her lead. While removing his drenched clothing, he said, “The Northlands, Midlands, and Southlands all worshipped different gods. There was always cross-over: sometimes Midlanders worshipped Northlander or Southlander gods, and sometimes Southlanders worshipped Midlander gods.” He shrugged. “People from different lands married. People from different lands traded. Sometimes it made more sense to worship the most convenient god for the sake of trade or harmony between husband and wife.”