Descendants of the Wolf (Descendants Saga Book 1)

by Jerry Autieri

  "I never thought I'd see you again. Thought you were done for."

  Yngvar nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He glanced over the rails, watching the cluster of torches wavering along the shore. They would find four bodies left behind by two men. An evil, satisfied smile bloomed on his lips.

  "So how did you get me out of this mess?" he asked, turning back to Bjorn. Thorfast was now standing, sloughing off his cloak. He flashed a smile at Yngvar's question.

  "It was this one that saw the whole thing," Bjorn said, pointing at Alasdair. "Soon as you were out the door, he was waking us."

  Alasdair's face turned red and he pointed at the mast. "I placed your boots and sword and some of your other things by the mast, lord."

  "When will you stop calling me lord? You're a free man."

  "But you are noble born, lord. I've told you I can't ignore that. It's not what my parents taught me. The priests too. Respect and obey your betters, they always said."

  Yngvar wiped away the sea water that trickled from his hair into his eyes. His cloak had come free on the deck and was sopping. He wished he had something to dry his head. He looked to Bjorn. "So Alasdair woke you. But all this? Plus how did you know what was happening?"

  "Thorfast's the smart one. He's in everyone's business, talking about what they know and what they think. He asked a lot about you. So he figured out what Erik was up to early on. He'd just been waiting for something like this."

  "And you didn't say anything to me?"

  "Why?" Thorfast shrugged. He sat against the gunwales, letting his legs go limp. "It would've just made you do something foolish. I wondered why you were suddenly so admired by Erik and his men. Seems like that happens a lot to people who later disappear. I had no proof, of course, but guessed Erik used that false admiration to either put his victims at ease or to cover his hand in the disappearances. You'd been plowing his wife for a good while. That'd have to come back to you in one way or another."

  "So Thorfast started talking to the men," Bjorn said, clearly anxious to tell his part. "Just stuff about wanting to leave and whatnot. Ander Red-Scar and the others were in. A couple more of Erik's men were not decided, but they came after all. You see 'em here. My job was to get our ship back and ready to sail."

  Yngvar shook his head. "Why not tell me all of this? Why hide it?"

  "Because maybe I was wrong," Thorfast said. "And we'd never be capable of stealing a ship unless there was a distraction."

  "So this is the best part," Bjorn said with a moon-bright, smiling face. He stood before Thorfast so he disappeared from view. "As soon as they took you away, we went right to the hall and got Gunnhild out of bed. Used the hirdmen on guard for it too. We made such a fuss when we found Erik was away, and one of Erik's men who was now on our side said someone had captured the king and was going to hold him for ransom. Someone said it was you, and of course you were gone too!"

  "Hey, this is my part of the story," Thorfast said, still hidden behind Bjorn, who continued on oblivious.

  "That bitch knew what was happening, but she couldn't say nothing. Of course, the hird had to guard her so she couldn't go after us. So Thorfast gets everyone following him out to hunt for Erik. Every man was ready to be the king's hero. Dumb bastards must've been half-asleep and still drunk. It was beautiful, it was."

  Bjorn clapped his hands and laughed. Thorfast now stood and pulled Bjorn aside.

  "So you were the distraction. I knew Erik would want to kill you himself, and I was right. He loves murder too much to leave that up to another. No one is too small for him to kill. I bet he tormented rats as boy. Anyway, I figured the only place for a murder was the woods. Anywhere else you could all be seen. The rest you know."

  "So you gambled my life on a few lucky guesses?"

  "But I was right, so you can thank me instead of staring at me like I just pissed on your feet."

  "I do thank you, with all my heart. You saved my life. You all did." He spoke louder so that the rest of the crew could hear him. He stepped before the banks of rowers. "I owe you my life. Without your bravery, I would be without a head by now."

  "You were giving a good fight when we caught up with you," Thorfast said. "I bet Hrut won't be able to walk for a week."

  The chuckles raised everyone's spirits. Soon someone started up a rowing song, and others joined in. They sped out to the endlessly dark and colorless circle of the sea, shooting across gentle waves like a spear thrown across the water.

  Yngvar had to sit. His feet were too painful. Two brushes with death in one night were too much for him, and he began to fade into weary sleep.

  His final thoughts before sleep overwhelmed his were that while they had escaped, they had nowhere to go and no supplies to carry them.

  They had a victory this night, but in truth had merely won the chance to starve themselves at sea.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Yngvar stared out at the blank, gray water behind them. The sky was dark and the air cold. The sea bristled with white caps and not a seabird followed them. It was a bad omen. He hobbled away from the rails, his feet now protected in his boots but still horribly burning.

  The rest of the crew tended the business of sailing, but without the need to row many had little to do. Most sat huddled with their thoughts, as did Yngvar. His cloak had still not dried since the previous night, and he wished he had something against the biting wind. The full sail snapped and the mast creaked. A ship at sea made a hundred different noises, each one telling the pilot its own part of the greater story. Yngvar was glad Ander understood the language, for to him it was all shuddering groans of wood.

  "Is it wrong to say I'm disappointed no one chased us?" Thorfast joined Yngvar and gestured him to sit at the prow, where Bjorn and Alasdair huddled under cloaks against the gunwales.

  "We are not important enough," Yngvar said. "Besides, we just stole back our own ship. He's not out of much except pride."

  Thorfast swept his white hair out of his eyes as the wind blew it around his face. "I hope we never see him again."

  Yngvar's fists clenched at the thought of Erik's cruel, arrogant smirk. "I do hope we will meet again. My back is scored with a dozen scars that will never leave me, and the bastard was going to butcher me like a pig. I've got revenge to take."

  "You were fucking his wife," Bjorn said, his cloak drawn up to his nose. "Can't fault him for wanting to geld you for it."

  "No, it was different. I think he knew all along and the reward for indulging his wife was supposed to be murdering me."

  Alasdair made that Christian gesture where he touched his forehead and shoulders. "Praise God that lord Yngvar was delivered from Satan's claws."

  "Lord," Bjorn repeated, then rolled his eyes.

  They sat together and retold the highlights of their adventures. Each one embellished his part a bit more than the last telling, and even Yngvar described himself in a far more desperate fight with Hrut than reality.

  Ander Red-Scar had handed off the rudder to another and joined them.

  "This weather is making me nervous," he said. His sword hung at his hip and his shirt was stained with rust colored spots. Yngvar recognized that he and his friends had not been the only heroes in this tale. "Smells like a storm coming."

  Yngvar squinted up at the dark sky. It did not take any imagination to see it brewing. "But we need supplies. Are we headed toward the closest settlement?"

  "Closest ones are in Northumbria, at least ones far enough from Erik are." Ander spit on the deck for luck. "We could try Scotland."

  "We talked about it already; decided to keep moving." Yngvar wiped his eyes against his fatigue. "Too many cliffs, not much to pick from, and they're good fighters. We learned that this summer."

  Ander nodded. "Erik picked over everything nearby. We've got to go farther afield than he took us. We've got enough mead. If the rain is gentle enough, we can collect fresh water to keep us going. But we're going to be hungry soon."

  "I'm hungry now," Tho
rfast said. "Do you think we should pull ashore ahead of the storm?"

  "You mean if a storm is coming. It's not a certain thing," Ander said. "We would be wasting time. If Erik did send someone after us, they'd close the gap."

  "No one is following," Yngvar said. But Ander frowned.

  "He's a petty bastard, and he thinks this is his ship. Even if he doesn't directly send someone, others will want to impress him and come after us."

  "No," Yngvar insisted. "He's preparing for the big raid on his brother, Hakon the Good. He'll want everyone with him on it. He's only got so many days to raid Norway before the weather closes that down. He's not going to hold his forces all winter. He's going to want spoils and good Norse winter stockpiles to carry him. That's his plan. He's letting Fate deal with us instead."

  The ship rocked and creaked. The crew mumbled among themselves, leaning in to hear what was spoken between Ander and Yngvar. The true leader of the crew had not been decided yet. Yngvar assumed he should be the one, yet Ander was indispensable as a man who knew the way. Only Ander and a few others could sail them home with any certainty. Yngvar did not know the landmarks along the coast. He'd get everyone lost. So the crew would likely follow Ander, at least while at sea.

  Ander put both hands on his hips and sighed. "I think it wisest to put as much distance between Erik and us as we can. It's a hardship, for certain, but it's better than being recaptured."

  Yngvar scanned Thorfast and Bjorn for their reactions. They looked expectantly at him. Alasdair simply smiled.

  "What does your god say about a storm?" Yngvar asked.

  The smile vanished and Alasdair's brows wrinkled. "God doesn't speak to me, lord. I'm as a speck of dust in His eyes."

  "Let me know when your god can do something useful." Yngvar scratched his head. Would Thor see them and guide his storms elsewhere, or would he hurl his hammer upon their ship? Perhaps a sacrifice was needed? He could throw his silver armband into the sea in offering, but it was a paltry thing for a god so mighty.

  "You are more experienced at sea than I am," Yngvar said. "We should do as you say."

  Ander smiled and the crew seemed relieved.

  "It's probably for the best," Thorfast said softly.

  But it was not.

  As the day passed in an endless stream of gray water and sea foam, the skies darkened. Ander kept looking skyward, then toward the horizon as if expecting a fleet of ships to appear in pursuit. At last he gave in and decided to steer for shore, but Scotland offered nothing but angry cliffs and unfamiliar coasts. What shallows and reefs lay ahead was anyone's guess and so they steered clear at the first hints of troubles.

  Then the storm blew in.

  It was as if Thor himself had awakened to their presence. A wall of black clouds gathered, and the wind gusted hard across the ship. It swayed dangerously close to capsizing, sending Yngvar and all the others scrambling for something to hold.

  The roar of the wind now brought sheets of cold rain. Already late in the day, the sun vanished with all its light as if noon had been traded for midnight.

  The wind hit the ship abeam, again nearly flipping it over like a bowl on the water.

  "We've got to steer so the wind stays off the beam," Ander shouted. "She'll capsize for sure, otherwise."

  Yngvar nodded, as if he had anything to say about what to do. He had never endured a true storm at sea. Even after a whole summer of crisscrossing between Ireland and Scotland, he had encountered nothing worse than a squall. Erik judiciously kept his ships off the water at any sign of bad weather. At the time Yngvar had considered it tedious, but now he understood the rationale.

  If he had thought ships spoke through creaks and groans while sailing, in a storm, ships wailed with screeching wood and snapping strakes. The deck was full of sea water now, cold and foamy around his feet. He grabbed a pail and joined others in bailing. Ander worked with all his strength to keep a course that would not take them far off and would keep the wind from capsizing them.

  A dozen men bailed in a frenzy. The rain lashed them and the wind shoved them along the deck. Waves and spray crashed over the rails to undo all their efforts at bailing. Bjorn was howling curses along with Thorfast, who seemed more likely to fall with a full bucket than anyone else. Alasdair worked steadily, keeping his head against the wind and throwing his share of water overboard.

  Only moments had passed, but to Yngvar it seemed a whole day had blown away with the storm. It was relentless, wailing rage and spitting rain down into the darkness. Ander's steering had devolved into a battle against shifting winds. For long spaces he kept the winds streaming across the deck stem to stern, but then a sudden shift would hit abeam and men would grab onto anything and pray. Yngvar himself grabbed the rail and saw the ocean a hand's breadth from his nose more than once.

  Thor had summoned an endless storm with endless water and wind. He did not throw his hammer, for no thunder broke the dominance of the wind's scream. Yngvar despaired of ever seeing a dry day again. But then the winds calmed and the torrents fell to a drizzle, then ceased altogether.

  When finally Thor relented, the ship was swaying in a circle of blackness. No moon or sky revealed itself. No landmark showed in the night. They were blind.

  Compared to the rage of the storm, the world had fallen into utter silence. Even the slap of water on the hull seemed gentler than ever. Ander had bound himself to the tiller, and only now untied his arm. In the madness Yngvar had not even realized the mast and yard had been taken down and stowed. It had been right over his head but he had so focused on bailing he never saw it. In the low light, men looked like lumps of seaweed spread out on the deck.

  Not until dawn could they determine the extent of the damage. The cold and empty night yielded to a morning of weak light that barely defeated the heavy clouds overhead. The ship was taking on water, despite being freshly caulked. Whatever fresh water and mead they had aboard was ruined with sea water. Despite the violence of the storm no one had been injured.

  "Thor just wanted us to know he was displeased," Thorfast said. "But not angered enough to kill us."

  Alasdair pursed his lips, looking like a petulant child. "Perhaps God had mercy upon us. But why would he spare the men who killed his priests? I must think on this."

  The damage had all been superficial, except for the slow seepage of water. Every ship took on water and bailing was standard duty. But this was worse and the ship was lower to the water line than ever.

  Yngvar decided to gather the crew together. Men were still dazed and hopeless after the storm. They needed to hear a plan, even if he was making it up as he spoke.

  "The storm has taken us off course," he said to the crestfallen men staring back at him. They either leaned against the rails or sat on whatever sea chests had not fallen overboard. "Sea water has ruined our short supply. But we are alive and we are not lost. We can survive this."

  The men exchanged glances. Thorfast and Bjorn nodded encouragement. His friends would support him, even if they didn't know what he was about to suggest. They would always have his back, and it made him stand straighter for it.

  "Ander, do you know where we are? I mean exactly."

  "Of course not. There's nothing to see here. Not until I get some stars in view can I tell you where we are. I think we were blown north of our course."

  "That's fine," Yngvar said. "Until that time, if we sail directly east, we will come to the coast of Norway. That is where we need to head now."

  The crew leaned back and grumbled. Ander lowered his head at the suggestion, rubbing the back of his neck. Yngvar waited for the objections, which Ander led.

  "Last time we approached the coast of Norway, we were hunted and nearly killed at sea. We're even fewer men now, and can't take that risk."

  "But we can't wait to discover where we are and then search for inhabited islands. Norway is a certainty, but everything else depends on sailing skill and good weather. These skies promise more of the same weather. Thor warned us off
the water last night. Next time he will have no mercy on us. And even if he did, we are without fresh water. We will die of thirst within days."

  "You're asking us to be captured again," said one of the other men. His face was lined with worry, like every other of the crew.

  Yngvar shook his head. "We may be taken in, but we have something now that they need. We have information on Erik Blood-Axe's plans. Reliable information. Whoever is on this coast would be a potential target of Erik's or a close neighbor of one. The jarls there will want to know. Hakon the Good will want to know. Rather than approach as a raider of a lost ship, I say we approach as men unafraid. We come to their aid, even if they do not realize it, and we will be welcomed for it."

  Furtive glances were shared, and others stared at the deck. Ander folded his arms and stared off to sea.

  "If we sail straight south, we could arrive in Northumbria," Ander said.

  "And meet the same fate? We have a ship and not even twenty men to protect it. The Northumbrian's will take it from us, and we have nothing of value to trade with them. Besides, you only guess a straight line south will bring us to land."

  "We'd eventually find Wessex and the channel." Ander's voice had fallen quiet, realizing that they had no time for such a journey. The ship was sinking beneath them and fresh water was out. They had to take the certain bet. Yngvar's task was to make them confident of success.

  "Sail us east," he said to Ander. "Unless the crew votes for your southern approach."

  No one, not even Ander, raised a hand for the journey south.

  "Remember, we have what the Norwegians need, and can trade it for our safe passage."

  No one seemed especially confident as they returned to their tasks. Thorfast and Bjorn both clapped him on the back.

  "Do you think we might be rewarded for what we know?" Bjorn asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

  "Honestly, I don't know what they will do." Yngvar stared east, nothing but a flat gray sea ahead.