Halvar could see the figure of a woman in the flickering firelight. It wasn’t long before one of the men led her to a cart standing near one of the outbuildings. He bent over her and did something that Halvar couldn’t see; he assumed that the man had just tied her to the cart. He was furious at the thought but he knew he had to stay focused. Anger would only cloud his judgment. He and his men stayed still, waiting for the slave traders to settle off to sleep. They were apparently unconcerned about anyone coming to rescue Eira. Halvar figured that they captured slaves to sell all the time and probably rarely got caught.
Halvar was horrified when he heard the men talking about selling someone to a wealthy merchant. He realized it was Eira they were talking about and it fueled his fury. He was so angry that he was ready to wreak vengeance on the entire village but common sense restrained him. He had to get Eira out of there safely. He planned to wait until the men were asleep and slip in to rescue her in silence. They would only fight if necessary. He knew it would awaken the village and he didn’t want the village warriors to join the slave traders. He and his men would be outnumbered if that happened. They could deal with the slave raiders later. He forced himself to be patient as the men laid down around the fire.
But one of them wasn’t asleep. He waited till the others were asleep and the fire was dim. Then he got up and went over to Eira. Halvar couldn’t hear the words but he was sure the man was intending to rape her. He had to act now.
Like a ghost, Halvar silently loomed over the slave trader as he knelt above Eira. One hand clamped down hard on the back of the man’s neck while the other held his axe high above his head. He was a formidable sight in the gloom. The trader gave a muffled cry of terror but wisely didn’t try to move.
“Make a sound and you are dead!” Halvar hissed into his ear. “How dare you molest my woman,” he growled in a menacing undertone. “I should just kill you now and be done with it.” He shook the man by the neck.
“Taft said she belonged to no one,” the man squeaked, terror in his voice.
“She is the daughter of a chief and my men are surrounding this camp as we speak. If you make a noise or try to fight, we will completely destroy you. Just give me the woman.”
“You can take her,” the trader said in a shaky voice. “Just leave us alone.”
With a swift blow, Halvar cut the rope that bound Eira to the cart. She unwound it from her legs and scrambled to her feet.
“If you come near my village again, we will hunt you down and kill you,” Halvar ordered the slave trader.
Then he took Eira’s hand and silently led her past the sleeping traders. One of the men stirred and muttered something but they kept moving until they reached the forest path. One by one, Halvar’s men joined them, quiet as ghosts.
Finally, they reached the waiting horses and Halvar considered it safe enough to speak, albeit in a whisper.
“Those slave raiders will not bother us again,” he said. “I was so worried about you,” he whispered to Eira. “Did they harm you?”
“No, but that man was about to. Thank you, thank you for saving me!” Eira could feel tears spilling down her cheeks. She threw her arms around Halvar’s neck and he pulled her close against him. He was glad it was so dark and the men couldn’t see them. He kissed the top of her head. “Let us get you home,” he said quietly.
As they moved away from the village of Kallekot Dalr, Eira felt the adrenaline draining from her body. While it was true that she was not yet out of danger, she felt safe with Halvar and his men to protect her. She rode in the middle of the group as they moved in single file along the path. She let her horse have his head and he plodded resolutely towards home. The rhythmic swaying of his movement almost lulled her to sleep. She was so exhausted after her terrifying ordeal. Halvar rode ahead of her, his broad back barely visible in the gloom of the forest.
She wondered what would happen when they returned to the village. Would Taft be happy to see her? She was sure that Kaarina would be delighted that she had been rescued but she wasn’t so sure about Taft. She made up her mind to ask Halvar when she got the chance why Taft appeared to hate her so.
After hours of riding, the sun rose and the forest no longer seemed to hold such menace. With daylight came a renewed sense of purpose and energy as the group continued the long, weary trek towards home. Even the horses picked up the pace. The path widened and Eira found herself riding side by side with Halvar. She decided to ask the question that was on her mind.
“Halvar, do you know why Taft has hated me ever since I’ve been here? He was nice to me just before I got taken by the traders but that was the first time. He wanted me to make him something for headaches. That was why I was near the edge of the boundary. I was picking birch buds to make him some headache medicine.”
Halvar paused to think. Should he tell her his suspicions? She had no idea that Taft had arranged her kidnapping. He decided he had to tell her the truth. After all, she would no longer be able to live with Taft.
“It began long ago,” he said. “My father was the clan leader and I was in my early teens. The village was a happy place; my father was a good clan leader and made wise decisions. He started to teach me how to lead a clan because he was certain that one day I would follow in his footsteps.”
“Where was Taft?” Eira asked.
“Taft lived in the village, too. He was older than me, as was his sister, Astrid, although she is younger than he is.”
“My father died unexpectedly, leaving the clan without a leader. Many of the people wanted me to be his successor because they knew that he had been training me and I was already skilled at farming and in battle. But others thought I was too young.
Taft had always cherished an ambition to be the leader someday. But with the clan divided, he couldn’t just assume the leadership for himself. It would have caused strife and war and would probably have split the clan apart. So, the clan decided to take a vote. Everyone of marriageable age could have their say and cast their vote.
The votes came out evenly divided. When it came to the last one, it was up to Astrid to cast the deciding vote. She struggled to make a decision but, in the end, chose me over her brother. When asked why she made that decision, she said that her brother had a problem with his anger and she believed that I would be a better clan leader.
She left the village to marry Bjarni not long after that, but Taft never forgave her. He has harbored this anger in his heart all this time.”
“It is sad for him that it is eating him alive,” Eira said. “But I do not know why he takes it out on me.”
“You are like your mother. I remember her well. She was kind and beautiful and also a great healer. Every time Taft looks at you, he is reminded that his ambition remains unfulfilled because of your mother.” Halvar turned to look at her.
“Eira, it is not easy to say this.” He paused, searching for the words. “Words don’t come easily to me. I am a man of action.”
“Go on,” Eira encouraged.
“You will not be able to live with Taft when we return. I have reason to believe that he set up your kidnapping.”
Eira gasped. “But that is such an awful thing to do to your own kin. Why would he do that?”
“Because he does not wish to be reminded of what he failed to achieve every time he sees you. Therefore, it was an easy way to solve his problem.”
“But where will I live? Will I be safe?”
“For now, you can have a corner of the pit-house. I will ensure that you are safe.”
Eira shuddered. She would again be living in fear for her life. Would there ever come a time when she could live in peace?
CHAPTER 8
T he village was quiet. Many of the villagers were working on their farms, while the women who weren’t at the farms were down at the stream, washing clothes and fetching water. The day was sunny and warm and Taft was basking in the sunshine outside his house. He should have been working at the farm but he felt that he deserved a
day to relax in the sunshine. He’d finally taken revenge on his sister for the years of misery he’d endured as a result of her decision and it felt good.
He was certain that Halvar and his men wouldn’t find Eira. In fact, with each hour that passed, he was growing more confident that he would never have to see her again. He spat contemptuously. Fools! The traders were good at simply vanishing into the forest. Once they had captured a person, it was highly unlikely that the village would ever see that person again. The cool wind caressed his cheeks while the sun warmed his back. He felt sleepy and closed his eyes, hearing only the faint sighing of the wind in the trees.
“How dare you!” roared a voice right in front of him.
Taft jumped with fright as he awoke to see Halvar standing over him. Taft had never seen Halvar so angry. "What madness is this, Halvar?" he asked, trying to play it cool.
Halvar was boiling with rage. "You sold your own family to the raiders?! Your own blood?!!"
Taft feigned surprise. "That is nonsense. We all know she was taken by them because she ventured beyond the boundaries!"
“Oh no, she did not. There’s an arrow still stuck in a tree on our side of the boundary to prove it. You told them when to come for her and you set her up yourself.”
Kaarina spoke up then. "I saw you with one of them, Father. That was why you questioned me about where Eira goes to pick her herbs. It was you!”
Taft looked from one to the other. He hadn’t spotted Eira so he assumed that they had been unable to find her. He was relieved. He could put up with their accusations; in time, everyone would forget and life would go back to normal.
But his relief was short-lived. Eira stepped around the corner of the building, and at the sight of her, his stomach churned. He rose to his feet, bubbling inside with anger.
"So what if I sold you into slavery?” He tossed the words contemptuously towards Eira. “I could have killed you myself but I saved you the agony."
"You have no shame, Taft," Halvar responded. "Now, pick your weapon and fight like a man!"
The villagers who were left behind began to gather in trickles. Whenever a chief asked a man to pick up his weapons, it usually meant a match to the death. There had been a few of those matches in the past and the results had been catastrophic. Word quickly spread to the others who were away, especially the women at the stream.
Taft grabbed the axe he had placed by his side before going to sleep. This was a moment he had been waiting for all his life. It was time to take back what had been stolen from him.
"I have always admired you, Halvar. You're strong and brave. If I didn't hate you so much, I'd have said you are noble too.” Taft swung his axe as he talked, advancing menacingly towards Halvar who turned sideways. "Between you and the wench’s mother, you took everything from me. So now I’m going to kill you and have my revenge.”
In one swift movement, Taft raised his axe and swung wildly at Halvar. But Halvar was experienced in battle and had seen that move too many times to be caught by it. He ducked and swung with his free hand, landing a glancing blow on Taft’s jaw. It only served to enrage Taft, who roared with fury and flew at Halvar. Again, Halvar ducked out of the way.
The men began to gather around, each taking sides. The older women had seen this before and knew that it was likely to turn into full-blown bloodshed.
“We need to stop them,” Olga muttered to Solvi. The two women hurried off, joined by others who were also determined to stop the madness before it robbed them of husbands and fathers.
Quickly gathering hay and animal dung, the women surrounded the men who had by now joined in at the edges of the fight. As Taft raised his axe to swing at Halvar, a woman hurled an armful of hay. It landed on top of him, blinding him and causing him to stop. Another woman did the same to Halvar. The other men found themselves facing an avalanche of hay and animal dung as the women threw it with deadly accuracy.
The fight soon descended into a farce. Each time one of the men tried to wield his axe, he found himself buried beneath a shower of hay and dung. Fighting with weapons became impossible under these circumstances but Taft and Halvar were unwilling to back down. Soon they were wrestling in the mud and the women allowed them to release their anger against each other. Some of the other men were also wrestling as years of personal grievances came boiling out.
Halvar fought like a wounded lion. He wanted to right the wrongs that Taft had caused his beloved. He thought of how the slave raiders had almost taken her from him forever. He shuddered as he thought about how close she had come to being raped. That alone was enough to make his fury boil over. What Eira had suffered was all because of this man and his unreasonable anger towards her!
Taft wanted revenge. He had played second fiddle to other people all his life and he’d had enough. He was tired of having his rights stolen from him by those less deserving. He was tired of living in the shadows of another who was only half the man he was. He was tired of people disagreeing with him at village meetings because he was less important than the clan leader. He would show them.
But finally, Taft was exhausted. He couldn’t move a muscle. Halvar sat on top of him and raised his arms in victory.
“You haven’t heard the end of this matter,” Taft said bitterly, gasping for breath. “You’ll pay for this, Halvar.”
“You’ll never forgive, will you, Taft?” Halvar said, standing up.
“Never,” Taft said vehemently.
Eira watched the fight with horror. This wasn't what she wanted. Despite everything that had happened, she had no desire to see Taft killed or injured. She was dismayed when the other men began to join the fight. She ran to Pallavi. "Stop them!" she begged.
Pallavi looked at her. "We cannot stop them,” she said. “Their anger fuels their resolve. We can only hope that our interference will prevent bloodshed and that their anger dissolves quickly."
Hella was behind the old woman and overheard their conversation. "First, you come into this village as a fugitive, accused of being an evil witch,” she said. “And now, because of you, two men are about to kill each other. Because of you, the peace we have enjoyed for a very long time is about to go crashing down the drain!"
"Stop that at once!" Pallavi shouted, slapping Hella on the shoulder. "It is not the girl's fault!"
"But it is," Eira argued. "It is my fault all of this is happening, and I know how to stop it." She ran off without looking back.
Halvar wanted to show Eira his victory over Taft. He wanted her to see that the man who had betrayed her into slavery was defeated. He had won justice for her. He looked around but she was nowhere to be seen. The fight over, the villagers dispersed to their homes, but Eira was not among them.
Halvar was getting worried. “Eira!" he shouted. The men spread out and looked all over the village but she had vanished.
Two men helped Taft to his feet. His eyes were bloodshot. His rage had dissipated but his pride hadn't. He shrugged off the men and limped away, cursing Halvar as he went.
Halvar was more concerned about Eira's whereabouts. He told his men to keep searching for her but they came back empty-handed. Pallavi limped towards him.
"I saw her leave. I know not where but she left,” she told him.
Halvar was confused. "Why did she leave?"
"Hella told her she was to blame for the trouble. She agreed and then she said she was going to fix the problem. Find her, Halvar, find her."
Halvar nodded and walked back to the longhouse to clean up. In a few minutes, he emerged with his hunting gear.
“Are you going hunting?” Canute asked.
“Maybe. I just want some time to be alone,” he said. “Keep an eye on things here until I get back. Taft probably will not cause trouble now but I cannot be certain.”
Canute nodded. “I shall do that,” he said.
As evening approached, Halvar returned to the village, feeling dejected. There had been no sign of Eira in any of the places that he’d looked. It seemed that sh
e didn’t want to be found. But he wasn’t deterred. Somehow, he would find her. He would keep trying.
Eira approached the tumbledown hut cautiously. She remembered the day that she and Kaarina had found it.
“What is this?” she’d asked.
“It is the Wise Woman’s hut,” Kaarina had replied.
“The Wise Woman?”
“Yes. She died two years ago. She lived in this hut during the summer months. She would stay out here and pick herbs to make remedies. Everyone was a little afraid of her because she also cast spells and used magic and no one knew what she would do next. No one comes here now because they are afraid that her ghost will turn up and get them,” Kaarina shuddered.
Eira was unconcerned about ghosts. She’d opened the door to the small hut and peered inside. The Wise Woman’s belongings were still there and it looked as if she’d only just left it.
“Do not go in there!” Kaarina exclaimed in horror. “What about the ghost?”
“Pffft!” exclaimed Eira. “You do talk a lot of nonsense.”
Now, Eira found herself glad that she wasn’t afraid of ghosts the way Kaarina was. At least she had somewhere to go and no one would bother her here. Most of the villagers were afraid of ghosts just the way Kaarina was.
Eira was tired of the constant trouble and strife that surrounded her life. Every time she thought things were getting better, some new calamity arose to threaten her life or her peace. Out here in the wilderness, she had only the animals and birds for company and she decided that she liked it better that way. Here, no one would accuse her of being an evil witch or bringing trouble to the village. No longer did she have to live with hateful words and actions from Taft. Now, the villagers could find another scapegoat if something went wrong because she wouldn’t be around to bear the brunt of their anger.
Eira: Banished (Viking Guardians Book 1) Page 6