Manannan Trilogy

by Michele McGrath

She fumed, turned on her heel and walked along the beach. Her guard followed. She walked further and further, hoping to lose him in the sandhills but he stayed in sight. When she slowed down, he slowed down. When she hurried, he hurried. She started to run and had twisted to see if he was following when her foot turned on a stone. She went tumbling down a small slope and landed at the bottom with a thump. A pain shot through her belly and she gasped. The guard came running up and tried to help her rise but she sank back, biting her lip in pain. He pushed back her skirt and took hold of her foot, turning it gently from side to side. She stifled a scream.

  “I think it’s a sprain,” the guard said. “You won’t be able to walk on it for a while.” He bent down to pick her up. “You’re bleeding as well.”

  “I am?”

  “There’s blood on your leg and your shift. I’d better get you back to the village as quickly as possible.” He carried her back to the village.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as he laid her down on her bed. “I’m very glad you were there and I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you.”

  The man grinned and moved aside as Kolla, Freydis and Hari came running in.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I caught my foot on a stone and fell. When I tried to get up I couldn’t walk.”

  Kolla pulled back her skirt to look and then said,

  “More than that, I think. You’re bleeding badly. Someone fetch Blin to me.”

  Later on, Emer could not recall much of that evening. She remembered cloths being forced up between her legs in an attempt to stop her bleeding. Later Blin examined the swabs, poking at a bloody mass with her fingers and saying,

  “If there was a child, it is no longer there.”

  She remembered Hari’s white face. Then he was sent away and she was given a bitter drink. When she asked what was in it she was told,

  “Pennyroyal to clean out your womb.” She wept a little at that, for she realised, despite all the trouble it would cause, she had wanted her child.

  They bathed her, bound her up and covered her. Then they left her to sleep.

  “Mind me well, Hari.” The words woke her and she saw that the morning light was streaming into the hut. Hari and Kolla were standing in the doorway and neither of them were looking in her direction.

  “If you ever want Emer to have more children, you will keep away from her now.”

  “Do you think she will be able to?”

  “Plenty of girls miscarry, especially with a first and after a fall. No lasting damage unless you bed her too soon. Let her heal. I will tell you when you can go to her again.”

  Emer cried out at the look on Hari’s face and they whirled round. Kolla walked over to her.

  “So you overheard did you?” Emer nodded. “It is as I say. You cannot lie with a man for a few weeks or you may do yourself serious injury. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I must speak with Hari alone.”

  “No.”

  “It’s important.”

  Kolla beckoned and Hari came over and sat by her side. “I’m not that much of a ravening wolf, Kolla. I promise you that we will only talk. You can safely leave us. I will call you if Emer needs you.”

  “See that you do.” With a frown, Kolla left them.

  “I’m sorry, Hari. I was being stupid, trying to run away from my guard.”

  “Ebbo told me. I thought he’d done you a mischief, so I went and asked him with a sword in my hand.”

  “You didn’t! Ebbo’s a good warrior. You could have been killed!”

  “Ebbo’s known me all my life and he’d never kill me. I expected him to give me a thrashing, but I’d get in a few blows first. As it happened he only laughed at me and told me I’d got a mischief for a wife, making him run on a hot day. Then he said you’d fallen but he didn’t know how.”

  “Ebbo was very kind. He carried me back because I couldn’t walk. I never thought that I might lose the child if I fell or I would have been more careful.”

  “Perhaps it’s for the best,” Hari said with a sigh. “We can make our peace with Fadir when he returns. You’re young. Time enough for you to bear other children.”

  “But not this one,” Emer said, starting to cry. “This baby will never be born now and it’s my fault for being so stupid.” She did not tell him that they would never be able to be reconciled with Atli, when Rolf’s ship returned.

  14

  It was a dark, moonless night when everything changed. Emer was restless. Although her body had healed, her spirits did not seem able to recover. She still felt guilty, anxious and on edge, so she did not sleep well and she had to drag herself through each day. She was thinking about her lost baby, while everyone else was asleep and could not see her face. Then, suddenly Inar came racing into the longhouse.

  “What’s happening?” Hari sat upright beside her, his hand fumbling for his dagger.

  “There’s a ship coming into the bay. Rolf’s I think, but it’s hard to tell in the gloom.”

  “Fetch torches to guide them in,” Hari jumped to his feet and ran outside. There was a tremendous hustle and bustle as people scrambled outside. Emer reacted more slowly. She found her warmest clothes and pulled them on. She was shivering, with shock and dread of what she knew she might see. She took a deep breath.

  “I’m not a coward,” she murmured to herself. “I must face this with Hari. He will need me.”

  She pulled her cloak together and hurried out. The beach was lined with torches and a couple of the small skiffs were already on the water pulling for the rapidly approaching ship. The note of a horn sounded, echoing off the surrounding hills. Everyone seemed to freeze.

  “What is it? What does it mean?” Emer asked Kolla who was standing nearest. The sound was eerie and frightened her.

  “Someone has died.”

  “Who?”

  “We will know soon enough.”

  The ship’s sails were furled and the anchor splashed down into the water.

  “Why don’t they come in to the quay?”

  “To protect the people from the spirits of the dead.”Kolla replied. Her voice was shaking. “Blin must go out and say the rites before the body can be brought ashore.”

  Oars were shipped and two men climbed down the tall side of the ship into one of the skiffs. As they got nearer the beach, light from the torches fell upon their faces and Emer recognised Rolf and Tostig. As soon as they grounded, Rolf splashed through the surf and went straight to his mother, Drifa.

  “Modir, my regrets but Fadir is dead,” he said in a voice that carried through the sudden stillness. Drifa raised her hands to cover her eyes and wailed. Rolf put his arms around her for a few moments and then stepped back.

  “You are now an orphan, Brodir,” he told Hari.

  “How did Fadir die?” Hari asked tersely.

  “Two days ago he had great pains in his stomach. We gave him medicine and laid charms on him but nothing did him any good and he died late last night.”

  “What caused him to sicken?”

  “We don’t know. We purged him and he vomited but he did not get any better.”

  “Is anyone else sick?”

  “No.”

  Emer froze, remembering Atli’s agony in her dream and Rolf standing watching him writhe.

  Another wail from Drifa interrupted them. Halla was helping her in the direction of the longhouse. Rolf left Hari and took her other side, supporting her. Hari stood looking after him, his face frozen and his hands clenched. Emer laid a timid hand on his arm.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” she said, “Atli was a good man.”

  “When it suited his purposes,” Hari replied grimly. “Now everything will change. You will see.”

  “Come inside and drink some mead,” Emer said. “You’ve had a shock.”

  “No, I must see my father brought ashore and laid out in dignity but there is no need for you to stay here unless you want to watch.” He strode off to the boat which was about to re
turn to the ship.

  “Leave him,” Kolla said in her ear, “It is indeed his duty and no one should take it from him. Come and rest. You, too, have had a shock.”

  Next morning Kolla came to find Emer where she was sitting with Freydis beside the fire in the bathhouse. Both girls were making some pretence of sewing but really just talking quietly together. Emer was red eyed with tiredness and Freydis was little better. The night had been full of noise and movement. Despite being desperately tired, neither of them had been able to sleep more than a few minutes at a time.

  Emer gazed at Kolla, noting that her eyes, too, were red.

  “Have you come for me?” Emer asked. “Is there anything I must do?”

  “You need not trouble about the tasks that remain; they are for the older women. What happens next will be decided by Atli’s sons,” Kolla answered. “It appears that there is some dispute between them, which will have to be resolved first. They have sent for Beacan the lovsigemann, who reads the laws. He lives to the south over the hills. Beacan has acted for Atli and his family before, when there were arguments over land and other matters. He will be here tomorrow and nothing more can be done until then. Hari is asking for you and I said I would find you.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Waiting on the beach. You must both go and pay your respects to Atli.”

  Emer got to her feet, reluctantly. She had a horror of seeing Atli twisted and misshapen from his painful death, but she must go, for Hari’s sake. It was her duty as his wife. Not to go would be considered indecent.

  She straightened her clothing and drew a horn comb through her hair. She needed time to prepare herself for the ordeal but she could not tarry any longer. She drew a deep breath, stepped out of the doorway and walked towards the shore.

  “Come,” Hari said when he saw her and took her hand.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  “We have laid him on a bier on the beach until a decision is made. A fireship is being prepared and a grave dug. Beacan, when he comes, should be able to tell us Fadir’s wishes, or, failing that, help us to decide which to use.”

  Atli’s body lay on a wooden bench, torches flaming at his head and feet. He wore a rich robe and his sword had been placed on his chest with his hands crossed above it. Drifa stood to one side. She frowned as Hari and Emer came forward.

  In reality, Atli looked nothing like the ravaged face Emer had seen in her dream. His muscles were relaxed and it seemed as if he had fallen asleep peacefully and would wake cheerfully in the morning. Emer stood gazing at him for a moment or two then she stooped and kissed his forehead.

  “Leave him alone,” Drifa hissed. “You bewitched him in life; in death he’s safe from you.”

  Emer drew back startled. “I liked Atli, I did him no harm and I am sorry he is dead.” She felt a tear running down her cheek.

  “You bewitched him. Why else should he take so much trouble for a worthless little fool like you? You should be burned for the sorceress you are.” Drifa pursed up her lips to spit into Emer’s face but Hari saw her intent in time and pushed between them. The spittle hit his chest and ran down his robes. He ignored it. Then he caught Drifa’s arm and hauled her away from Emer.

  “Enough, Drifa. You are talking about my wife.”

  “That bitch…” Drifa got no further for Hari shook her so hard her head snapped back and forth.

  “I excuse your language only because of your grief for my father, but I will have no threats made here.”

  “What is going on, Brodir?” Rolf came through a gathering crowd, attracted by the raised voices.

  “Your mother is distraught with grief. She should go and rest, so she will be able to speed Fadir tomorrow night. Halla should take her away.”

  “My lady spoke only the truth,” Halla said and there was glee in her voice. She came out from the shadow of some rocks, where she had obviously been listening to everything that had been said. Emer’s heat beat faster. “This girl bewitched the master and has done him great harm. She’d have done worse if she had birthed that spawn of the devil she miscarried.” A gasp went up from the listeners. Halla quailed, as Hari advanced menacingly upon her, and whisked behind Drifa.

  “If any more such slander comes out of your mouth, I will cut out your tongue with my dagger,” Hari threatened. “Now take your mistress and go before I change my mind.” Halla was shaking, with anger or fear he could not tell. He was watching the women walk away when Rolf asked lightly,

  “Did your wife miscarry devil’s spawn, Brodir?”

  Hari swivelled round. “No, she miscarried mine,” he said.

  “You’re sure?”

  Hari laughed, a raucous noise, “I’m certain.”

  “You surprise me, but that is good. Emer is too pretty and gifted a girl to be tied to a stake and burned as a witch and devil worshipper.”

  Rolf strode off, following his mother. Emer stood rigid, all her limbs were frozen and her blood seemed as if it had turned to ice.

  “Come away from here.” Hari took her arm and Emer trembled beneath his touch.

  “Follow me.” Kolla came up to them and led them away to the edge of the settlement. When no one could overhear, she turned to them.

  “Hari, what Drifa and Halla said is dangerous to you both. There are people here who will believe them and see more than they should in Atli’s liking for Emer. The circumstances of your marriage were unusual enough for people to gossip both here and for miles around. You won’t change that, but if a charge of sorcery is brought against Emer and she cannot disprove it, she might be condemned.”

  “I’m no witch. I have never knowingly hurt anyone,” Emer cried, stung at her words.

  “I believe you and so will those who have come to know you, but it is a dangerous accusation none the less.”

  “What should we do, Kolla?” Hari asked, fear in his voice.

  “Wait until Beacan arrives tomorrow and talk to him. He’ll want to arrange the disposal of Atli’s body and his goods before anything else. Then the funeral can take place. He won’t depart for his home until the following day. You’ll have time to ask him about the law and condemn the accusations of Drifa and Halla.”

  “I have never liked Beacan and he doesn’t like me.”

  “He doesn’t court friendship or liking, but he’s the one you must speak to, nevertheless. You asked me and that’s my advice.”

  Emer’s slept soundly that night. Her intense weariness overcame emotion, grief for Atli and her apprehension about the things Drifa and Halla had said. In the morning Hari was gone from her side, adding a new anxiety to her troubled mind. She searched for him but she could not find him anywhere in the settlement.

  “Where could he have gone?” she asked Kolla.

  “He left early to meet Beacan on the road. Rolf went with him. No doubt they want to talk to him privately about the funeral and come to a decision before he arrives. Rolf says that Atli wanted his body to be put aboard a fireship and burned. Hari wants his father to be buried beside his mother. Hari and Rolf have gone to see if Beacan can resolve the issue. In this weather, Atli’s body cannot be kept. Hari probably wanted to speak to Beacan about you also or at least prevent Rolf from doing so. Don’t fret. They’ll be back soon enough and then I expect we’ll be all set tasks to speed Atli on his way.”

  Emer did not want to wait alone. For the first time since she came to Skuy, she felt uneasy, as if people were watching her with malice in their eyes. When one old woman drew her cloak away when she passed, Emer was frightened. The gesture was an open accusation of witchcraft and the woman was a crony of Drifa. Greatly distressed, Emer sought out Freydis and told her all about it.

  “Phew,” Freydis said. “No one will pay any attention to what old Noova says or does, but they will listen to Drifa and Halla.”

  “How can I convince everyone I’m not a witch?”

  “You can’t, not easily. Rolf’s been out gathering strange soils for you.. You take them into a r
oom which stinks afterwards. No one has ever done anything like that before. I’ve certainly never heard of it, if they have. If that isn’t witchcraft what is? Even I wondered and I’m your friend. What happens there? Do you cast spells or brew potions?”

  Emer looked into her face. Freydis was avid with curiosity, but she could sense no other change in her.

  “No, I can’t do that, I don’t know how. I just go to sleep and dream.”

  “Is that all? I do that every night and I don’t need any strange smells to help me.”

  “My dreams are different. When I am dreaming, I see into the future.”

  “What? No one can do that!”

  “I can,” Emer said it so simply, Freydis’ eyes widened.

  “Really? Do your dreams come true?” she asked breathlessly.

  “They have so far.”

  “Gods! Have you seen anything about me?”

  Emer smiled. “You’ve never been in any of my dreams.”

  “What a pity. I hoped you’d seen me married to Njall.”

  “I wish I had, too.”

  “What did you see then? People I know?”

  “Atli ordered me not to tell anyone.”

  “Atli’s dead and you’re in trouble. You’d better tell me, so I can help.”

  Emer hesitated. “If I do, I might bring you great harm.”

  “Drifa knows I’m your friend and she’ll think I share your secrets anyway. If she comes after me, I’d rather it was for something I’ve done, rather than something I haven’t. I’ve never asked you before, although I’ve heard all the rumours. I’m asking you to tell me now, for both our sakes.”

  Emer thought for a moment. What Freydis said was true. They were known to be friends and she would be expected to know. It was not fair to leave her in ignorance any longer. So Emer told her. When she had finished, Freydis got up and poured them both a beaker of sweet mead.

  “Ugh, I had enough of this after my wedding.” Emer wrinkled up her nose in disgust.

  “Drink it. It will cheer you up. There are things we need to plan.”

  “Oh?”

  “One thing is for certain. Drifa will speak to Beacan about you and Hari as soon as Atli is safely put away. Depending on what Atli told Beacan, his goods will be divided between Hari and Rolf and possibly some others. Drifa would be pleased if her son’s share was greater than Hari’s, whom she’s never liked. She’s always resented the fact that Atli loved Mabil more than he did her and that Hari is the eldest living child. If she can cheat him out of part of his inheritance she will. Accusing you of being a witch gives her a good excuse to do so. That will divert people from thinking about what she’s really up to.”