The Viking's Captive

by Quinn Loftis

  The ship rocked, and for once I didn’t feel any nausea. I didn’t feel anything except defeat. My body slumped further until I was lying on my side with my knees drawn up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. Tears flowed down my face freely, though I didn’t make a sound. I had no idea how long I lay there before I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t bother to check and see who it is. I didn’t care.

  “We go now to my clan,” Magnus said, “but we won’t be staying, so don’t go thinking you’re going to escape. If I don’t return with you, especially since that damn witch killed Hilda, my brother will send his best warriors after me.”

  I didn’t know what he expected from me, but after several minutes, I heard his steps retreating. He was taking me to Clan Hakon. Did it matter anymore? Dayna was gone, Hilda was gone. Torben was gone. What was left for me? I’d be kept a prisoner for Magnus’ brother and used in more ways than one. Even Dayna’s fate wasn’t as cruel as what was headed for me. My eyelids eventually became too heavy for me to hold open, and though the tears still came, I fell into a restless sleep where death chased and mocked me. There was no Torben waiting to hold and comfort me. There was nothing worth waking up for. There was only my anguish. Even in sleep, I felt as though everything inside me was trying to force its way out, as if the pain were just more than my body could bear. It hurt. It hurt more than anything I’d ever felt.

  For the first time in my life, I prayed that I wouldn’t wake up. Let me sleep forever. Let my suffering end. Just let me go. Please, gods, just let me go.

  Never walk away from home ahead of your axe and sword. You can’t feel a battle in your bones or foresee a fight.

  ~ Hávamál, Book of Viking Wisdom

  “He’s not stupid, you have to give him that,” Amund said as we surveyed the blackened husks littering the beach. The Taran king had burned everything, including our longships, ensuring he would get away without pursuit. We’d done what we could to repair the devastation Cathal had caused with the supplies we had on hand, but there was no way we could build a replacement vessel to track him down, not without several weeks of work.

  “The only thing I’m going to give him is the point of my sword,” I replied.

  “Well, you won’t be able to do that if we can’t catch him,” Brant offered.

  “So, it’s back to the horses?” Amund groaned.

  Just then, Rush came running up and pointed out to sea. “Torben,” he yelled, “a longship on the horizon.” He handed me a spyglass, which I grabbed and quickly brought to my eye, surveying the ocean. I could see the vessel bearing straight toward our location under full sail and estimated it would be upon us within an hour. I couldn’t make out anyone onboard, but I could see the emblem on the sail clearly—black and yellow concentric circles. I furrowed my brow. The picture was familiar to me, but I couldn’t place it. “What do you make of this, Brant?” I asked, passing him the spyglass. “Do you recognize the sail?”

  “Bloody hell! Of course I do. That’s Calder’s banner. I haven’t seen that old cur since I was knee-high to a grasshopper and could barely hold an axe. I wonder what he wants with us.”

  “Calder? Who is Calder?” asked Amund, the youngest of my warriors.

  “Magnus’ brother,” I replied.

  “What would he want with us?” Brant asked.

  “And is he friend or foe?” Rush asked.

  “Magnus fled with the women to his clan,” I said.

  “So foe,” Rush muttered.

  “Why in the bloody hell are you just telling us this now?” Brant asked. His words were tight as he attempted to rein in his temper. “How long have you known where Magnus was?”

  The other men didn’t seem too concerned that I’d kept the information from them, though Thomas was not around at the moment to hear. I understood why Brant was upset. Despite the fact that he and Dayna didn’t truly have any type of relationship, he’d claimed her as his future bride. He cared for her. I didn’t know about love, but it was obvious when he talked about her that he cared deeply for her.

  “I didn’t tell you because there wasn’t anything you could do about it,” I said, keeping my voice calm. I also hadn’t wanted him to think about the things that had been done to Dayna. If I thought about them, I would get angry, and if I got angry, Brant would want to know why. I didn’t allow myself to linger on what Allete had told me in our dream world because it hurt. There was no reason Brant needed to hurt like that, too.

  “You’re not the only one to lose a woman, Torben. I had a right to know.”

  I turned to him, finding his eyes on me. He was hurt, he was scared for her—though he might never admit it—and he was angry. These were emotions that could be explosive if the right fire were lit beneath them.

  Finally, I nodded. “You’re right,” I admitted. “I should have told you.” I held out my arm and waited. After several moments, Brant clasped my forearm in a warrior’s shake. All was forgiven… for now. Once Brant found out what had happened to Dayna and that I hadn’t told him, he would be more likely to rip my arm off than shake it.

  “It can’t be a coincidence he returns now,” Amund said.

  “I agree.” I motioned for my men to come closer. “Gather the shieldmaidens and every weapon you can find. We may be in for a fight. Anyone who isn’t a warrior is to go down to the riverbed to take cover.”

  Brant and I stood on the beach together after everyone left, staring out at a ship that probably contained enemies. “Do you think our women are on that ship?” Brant asked. I could hear the hope in his voice.

  “I wish I had the answer to that. When they get closer we can take a look with the spyglass, but if they are, I doubt they’ll have them on the deck.” I paused and then considered it. “Actually, they might have them on the deck if they’re planning to bargain with us in some way.”

  “If they are on the ship, then Magnus or Calder or whoever the hell it is has us by the balls.”

  He was right. I would do anything to keep them from causing Allete more harm than she’d already endured.

  The next hour was a flurry of activity throughout the beach as we readied our defenses. I shouted orders, commanding men and women to various strategic locations. We quickly brought weapons and supplies from the village, then hastily built crude palisades out of detritus from the burned ships and driftwood we found on the beach. The surface of the beach was a mixture of washed up logs, silty soil, and large, strewn boulders, a perfect location to defend ourselves from an assault. The bows we had available were restrung and placed into the hands of our best archers. I commanded the majority of my soldiers to stay out of sight and wait for my signal. All the while, the longship sailed ever closer. When it was about twenty minutes out, Brant’s suspicions were confirmed. Through the spyglass, I could make out a few of the men moving about onboard, and they weren’t strangers. I recognized my old clansmen, those who’d run with Magnus as he bolted into the night with Allete. I ground my teeth. That could only mean one thing: Magnus himself was on that ship. My blood boiled.

  “Brant,” I yelled. “To me, now!”

  He came running up, huffing and puffing. “Most of the warriors are well hidden. What’s the play?” he asked.

  “Look,” I barked, passing him the spyglass. No sooner had he put the thing to his eye when he issued a string of curses. “They’ll die, every one of the bastards. Let’s bring the archers up. Start firing on the ship before they lower the dinghies.”

  “As much as I’d love to have a bonfire at sea, remember what we talked about earlier. What if our women are on that ship? We can’t risk attacking unless we know their fate.”

  “Damn it all, you’re right.”

  Brant formed his hand into a fist and held it out. “By the balls, my jarl, by the bloody balls.”

  “Why is Brant talking about bloody balls? Are we cutting Magnus’ off?” Kjell asked as he passed by carrying an armful of weapons.

  I waved him on and peered out at the bo
at. “What do men who are walking the plank in a hurricane do?” After a minute, I slapped Brant on the shoulder and said, “I have an idea, but we need to be quick. Let’s find Rush.” It was probably a long shot, but it was better than no shot at all.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, I had explained my plan. After Thomas thoroughly berated me for not telling him just where his cousin had been, we were able to begin putting the plan into action.

  “For a minute there, I thought he was going to cut off your—”

  I held up my hands. “If you say balls I’m going to hang you by yours.”

  Brant held up his hands and took a step back. “Just making an observation. Thomas was even angrier than I’d been.”

  I shrugged. Thomas being mad didn’t warrant my blade, and that’s all I was concerned about—who was deserving of my blade—because I was ready to shed some blood.

  Rush and Thomas moved off in opposite directions. Thomas ran along the beach eastward in plain view, while Rush crept behind the trees and crags of the westward shoreline. Brant and I walked onto the open beach and stood waiting, he with his war hammer, me with my sheathed sword. We watched the longboat put out its anchor. Seconds later, something happened that we didn’t expect. All of a sudden, a loud war horn sounded. Then, appearing like a hulking volcano rising from the bottom of the ocean, Magnus came stomping up from belowdecks, stood at the stern, and hefted a long polearm. Affixed to the top of the weapon was a white cloth. He waived it wildly back and forth, sure to catch our attention.

  “A sign of peace? What’s he playing at?” asked Brant.

  “I’m sure he means to make us surrender.”

  “Over my dead body,” growled my second-in-command.

  “And if he has Dayna with a knife to her throat?” I held my hand out in a fist as he’d done earlier.

  Another string of curses was the only reply I received.

  “Wait for my signal,” I called to the warriors waiting behind me. All in all, we had fourteen souls hidden behind makeshift shelters, ready to fend off Magnus’ attack—myself, Brant, Kjell, Amund, Siv, and Delvin, plus eight shieldmaidens. Everyone else in the village was either too young or old to be anything more than a hindrance. Rush and Thomas likely wouldn’t return from their respective missions in time to join the fighting. Normally, this would have irritated Rush to no end, but he loved stealth missions and would likely see his share of swordplay before the day was out. He’d seemed honored when I’d explained what he must do, which told me he understood how important was his task.

  Thomas, for his part, would hopefully be safe away from the fighting. He’d initially protested when I’d given him his assignment, but I convinced him that his formal military training as a noble, which mainly consisted of sitting astride a horse and directing the battle, would be ill-suited to the dirty chaos of the skirmish to come. He finally relented when I convinced him that my plan was the best chance we had of getting Allete and Dayna back alive and I couldn’t do it without him. I’d passed him a small leather pouch. Inside, wrapped in parchment paper, was a grainy, black powder I’d stolen in a raid to the east several years ago. After promising to handle the package carefully, Thomas went on his way.

  Brant and I watched as two dinghies were lowered into the surf. Fourteen men clambered in and began rowing toward shore, Magnus among them. We stood silently, waiting for the boats to finally make landfall.

  “Say nothing,” I whispered to Brant, knowing that the first thing out of his muzzle would be a question about Dayna, followed by a threat.

  They splashed onto the beach, and my former clanmates jumped out, weapons drawn, surrounding me and Brant. Magnus hefted his axe as he stomped through the sand and stood directly in front of me. My blood simmered. Staring at the haughty jarl, I could picture nothing but the fear on Allete’s face as she was being carried off by this animal. How dare he touch the woman who was destined to be by my side? It took every ounce of control I could muster not to pull my sword and run him through right then and there.

  Magnus spread his huge arms wide, his heavy, double-bladed axe seated firmly his right hand.

  “Hersir, so good it is to see you alive!” he bellowed. “Last I saw you, you were bleeding out on the floor of the English palace. I guess you must have taken a stray arrow during our attack. Most unfortunate, gods be praised that you survived.”

  I looked the man straight in the eye. For all his madness and cowardice, he was still cunning, and his lies were spoken without the slightest effort. “Gods be praised, indeed. I am thankful they spared me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to return home to my clan—what’s left of it, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, lowering his arms and furrowing his brow. “Where is the rest of my clan? I would expect a better welcome home after such a successful raid. There shall be feasting tonight!”

  “Let’s get one thing clear before we go any further, Magnus. You have no clan. You abandoned your clan when you chose to kidnap the English princess and let Clan Hakon suffer the fallout.”

  “I never abandoned anyone. I only did what was necessary. My actions will ultimately stengthen our clan. Imagine having a new, powerful young healer and seer in the clan. Think of the possibilities.”

  “Oh, I have thought of the possibilities, Magnus. With someone like that, we could unify the Nordic clans. We could build a new way of life, one that doesn’t rely on pillaging our neighbors. We could build a nation built on peace instead of bloodshed.”

  “Peace? What is this nonsense? That is not our way. Ours is the way of the blade,” he said, holding up his axe. “Ours is the way of fire, of destruction, of plunder. We are Vikings! We take what we want when we want it. That is all I have done.” There was a murmer of agreement from the men standing in a circle around us.

  “And what has that gotten us?” I asked. “Is Clan Hakon’s power growing? Do our people thrive?” I started to turn in a slow circle, looking into the eyes of Magnus’ men. “Think of your wives, your children, your flocks. Do they increase? Why do you raid and pillage? What has it ever brought you? Trinkets? Baubles? A man’s worth isn’t measured by the amount of gold in his war chest, it’s measured by the number of people he has to care for, and the number of people who care for him.” I watched the expressions of Magnus’ soldiers closely. Their faces became dark, telling me everything I needed to know. They followed too closely Magnus’ policy of take first, ask questions later. These men would never follow me. Some rose, however, as if in serious consideration of what I was saying. Perhaps some of the men could indeed be swayed to see reason.

  “Gold buys food, mead, and women. Are you telling me you don’t value these things, Torben? I’ve seen you partake in plenty of all three.”

  “Aye, maybe you have, Magnus. All of those things are good in their place. But I’m offering Clan Hakon something better. I’m offering them a future.”

  “What are you saying, hersir?” Magnus asked quietly, narrowing his eyes. There was venom in his tone. “And I suggest you answer very carefully. From my vantage point, you and your friend don’t seem to be in a position to be making threats.”

  “I am not threating anyone,” I responded. “I’m offering you a choice. Release Allete—that’s right, I know you have her—”(actually, I hadn’t until his face gave him away)“—and go back to your brother, or wherever you want, I don’t care. But leave Clan Hakon in peace. Do those two things, and you will live.”

  Magnus laughed. “I always thought you were good at figures, Torben, but I guess I was wrong. By my count, you are outnumbered fourteen to two. Once again, you and your sidekick are in no position to be telling anyone what to do or where to go.”

  I could feel the anger coming off Brant in waves as he stood next to me. I was quite pleasantly surprised he’d held it together this long, but I knew his patience was wearing thin. It wouldn’t be long before Magnus or one of his men felt Brant’s hammer across their head.

  “In
that case, why don’t I even the odds a bit,” I said, raising my hand. My men and the shieldmaidens sprang from their hiding places, weapons drawn. To his credit, Magnus didn’t flinch. I wasn’t terribly surprised. I’d seen the man face down impossible odds before. He hadn’t become jarl by his handsome face.

  “Impressive,” he said. “You’ve managed to cobble together…” he paused, counting my soldiers, “…five warriors and eight women to fight by your side.” He turned to his own soldiers. “By all means boys, we better throw down our weapons now. How are we ever going to stand against such foes?” There was a round of chuckling from Magnus’ men.

  “You’re forgetting something, Magnus. I trained these men and women myself. I, Torben, the youngest hersir in generations, master strategist and swordsman, trained them personally. You put me in that position, Magnus. You know what I’m capable of.”

  “And you know what I’m capable of!” he spat. “I should take your head off right now, but I won’t because despite what you might think, Torben, I don’t want to splinter our clan like this. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”

  It was Magnus’ turn to raise his hand, signaling someone back on the longship. I watched as one of his warriors appeared on the deck, pulling a struggling Allete up from the hold. He roughly pressed her to the rail for a moment, just long enough for me to see she was trussed and gagged. Then, he threw her back down in the hold and stood watching us from the prow of the ship. It took every ounce of strength I had not to rush past Magnus, plunge into the foamy water, and swim out to the longship to reach her.