Einar and I helped carry Hrodgar's body, each of us grasping one of the corners of the cloak beside his feet. Hastein and Torvald held the two corners at the other end, under his head and shoulders. I thought Hastein did Hrodgar great honor by helping carrying his body, for it was not a pleasant task. Although he had been covered, as had all of the bodies, by a tent awning from Sigvald's ship, flies had found their way underneath and discovered the gaping wound in his neck. It was crawling now with maggots.
"Ugh," Torvald said. "It is a good thing we are not waiting any longer to burn them. It will take many cups of ale to remember Hrodgar as he was, instead of like this."
Hastein laid Sigvald's weapons—his helm and mail brynie, his sword, and the strange hewing spear he'd fought with—at Hrodgar's feet. I weighed placing the Finn's bow and quiver there as well, but did not. I knew it would distress the girl if her father's fine bow, and the quiver her mother had made to go with it, were burned. I should not have cared—I did not understand why I did.
"Safe voyage, old friend," Hastein said. "You were always a true comrade to me, and a brave man."
"I do not know if I could have done what he did," Torvald admitted. "Take a journey knowing beforehand that it would lead me to my death. What if he had not come?"
"No man can escape his fate," Hastein said.
* * *
As we walked back from the death ship, I told Einar about Nori's request of Hastein, and that Hastein had left Skjold's fate in my hands.
"They are coming for them before nightfall?" he exclaimed. "We have little time."
I did not understand. "Time for what?"
"You still have the rune sticks I carved, do you not? Did you bring them with you on this voyage?"
Einar had carved the sticks over the course of the first night the two of us had met. Together, we had questioned Tord, the only survivor of the men Toke had sent to hunt me down after I'd escaped the attack on the longhouse up on the Limfjord. Before Einar had killed him, we had learned from Tord the names of all the men who had aided Toke in the treacherous assault that had cost the lives of my brother Harald and so many others. Einar had carved the names into two lengths of wood he had trimmed and smoothed.
"They are in my sea chest," I answered.
"Let us fetch them," he said, and broke into a trot toward the Gull. Over his shoulder he called, "We must question Skjold about the names while we still have time."
I caught up with him at the Gull. As we boarded, I noticed that Rauna had removed her things from the ship and was setting up her tent a short distance down from our campsite, on the beach.
Opening my sea chest, I dug through it until I found the two rune sticks, and handed them to Einar. As I did, I said, "But it is in my power to keep Skjold, when the Oelanders come for the others. If I did, we could question him whenever we wished."
Einar frowned. "Why would you do that? He has admitted that he has followed Toke since he was first banished by your father and left Jutland. That means he was there, that night on the Limfjord. For all you know, his blade might have helped cut down your brother Harald, or my kinsman Ulf. He probably helped kill the women and children whose safety had been promised. He joined in niddingsvaark. Why would you spare him?"
I did not have an answer. All that Einar said was true. Skjold had helped us, here on Oeland, and had told us much useful information about Toke's plans. But he'd done so only out of fear for his own life. He was, it seemed, a man who might do anything, betray anyone, to save himself. Why should I save him?
When Sigvald's ship had been moved, the prisoners had been taken from it and were now seated on the beach at the edge of our encampment, huddled together under the watchful gaze of three of our men. As Einar and I reached them, Hastein arrived with four more of our warriors, all fully armed. While Einar pushed his way into the group of seated prisoners and squatted down beside Skjold, Hastein pulled me aside and asked, "Well? Have you decided?"
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and nodded. "Yes," I said. "The Oelanders can take him, too."
"Hmmn," Hastein said. "I agree with your decision. It can be dangerous to be too merciful. If you do not kill a viper when it crosses your path, it may bite you at another time."
"Why the extra guards?" I asked, indicating the men Hastein had brought with him. Bram, I noticed, was among them, wearing his newly acquired brynie and helm.
"The Oelanders will be here soon. When these men learn they are to be taken by them, they will know—or at least suspect—what is to be their fate. We must be ready. If any try to run or to fight, we will kill them here and now."
By the time the Oelanders arrived, Einar and I were just finishing our questioning of Skjold. One by one, Einar had read him the names carved in runes on the two sticks. There were twenty-eight of them, including Toke. For most, Skjold nodded and said, "He still lives. He still follows Toke."
Einar paused for a moment and a grim smile crossed his face before he read one of the names. "Snorre," he said.
"He is dead," Skjold answered. "You know he is dead." He glanced at me. "You killed him, in Frankia."
"Aye," Einar said. "Halfdan killed him." He slid his knife out of its scabbard and sliced, in one deep shaving, Snorre's name from the stick.
Four more times, when Einar read a name, Skjold said, "He is dead," and Einar cut the name from the sticks. All four were part of the skeleton crew who, with Skjold, had sailed the Sea Steed up the channel between the mainland and Oeland, while Toke had passed safely by out at sea. Three had been killed in the battle when Sigvald had attacked our ships. The fourth—Grimar—was the man Einar and I had thrown overboard and drowned.
Our sentries up on the ridge above our encampment blew a warning blast on a horn, and Torvald gave a warning shout: "Hastein, they come!" Moments later the Oelanders—there must have been close to a hundred of them, all armed with axes, knives, and other makeshift weapons, and some carrying unlit torches, as well—appeared on the crest of the ridge and marched down it, with Nori in their lead.
Einar and I stood up. "Why are they here?" Skjold asked nervously. "Why so many of them, and why are they armed?"
"There is one more name on these sticks, Skjold," Einar said. "It is yours." With his knife he cut a last piece off of one of the sticks, and dropped the shaving into Skjold's lap. To me, he said, "That leaves twenty-two, including Toke, still to find and kill. Then your oath will be fulfilled."
We turned to leave. All around us, the prisoners were muttering to each other anxiously. It would not do to remain in their midst.
Skjold clutched at my sleeve. "I have helped you," he cried. "Do not let them take me. I am one of your people. I am from the village near your father's estate."
I shook him off. "You chose the path that has led you here," I told him. "You did not have to take it. You have committed many wrongs. Now you must pay for some of them."
As I walked away, I heard Bram say to him, "Skjold, is there any message you would like me to give to your family?" If Skjold answered, I did not hear it.
* * *
The Oelanders had requested of Hastein that he join in their dawn ceremony of thanks and sacrifice the following morning, and had invited the rest of our men to attend if they wished. Some, including Einar, Torvald, and Gudfred, had accompanied Hastein. I was not among those who did. The sacrifice by the folk of Oeland did not concern me, and the thought of arising yet again before dawn had no appeal. I was feeling possessed by a great weariness. The long bruises that crisscrossed my back, arms, and shoulders had grown darker and more painful over the course of the day following the battle, and my right arm and shoulder, with which I had wielded my sword during the clearing of the pirate ship—the details of which I still could not recall—felt so stiff and sore that they were painful to use.
I slept until well past daybreak. When I finally awoke I felt, if not refreshed, at least no longer exhausted.
The day of the battle, I had worn my oldest woolen tunic and t
rousers under my armor. It was good that I had done so. They had been far from new before, but now they were badly stained with blood that had splashed upon me during the fighting. I found a bucket aboard the Gull, filled it with sea water, and left them in it to soak.
My clothing was not all that was dirty and stained. My body felt filthy and smelled bad. Wrapping myself in my longest cloak against the chill morning air, and wearing only my boots underneath, I walked down the beach a ways, a clean tunic and trousers under one arm, carrying my sword in its scabbard with the other. There was no danger here—none that we knew of—but I had come to feel uncomfortable unless I had some weapon close at hand. The months of warfare and danger in Frankia had taught me that it was always the wiser course to be careful.
I did not stay in the water long, for the sea was cold. As I dried myself with my cloak and dressed, I realized that Rauna had not built a fire at her tent either yester-evening or this morning. In fact, I had not seen her at all this day. Did she have any food to cook for herself?
I stopped at her tent on the way back to the encampment and called out, "Rauna, are you in there? It is Halfdan." As soon as I said it, I realized I had never told her my name.
The flap over the tent's door shifted slightly on one side, not enough for me to see in, but I could tell that she was peeking out.
"My name is Halfdan," I told her. "I did not tell you that before."
"What do you want?"
"Do you have anything to eat? There is food at our camp, if you would like some." Cullain and Regin had prepared a large pot of boiled barley porridge for the morning meal. "It is simple, but it is hot."
She did not answer. "I am going to get food now," I told her. "Bring a bowl if you wish to have some."
When I reached the cook-fire, after stopping at the Gull to pick up my own bowl and spoon, I saw that Hastein and the others had returned. Hastein's tent had been pitched facing the fire, and he was seated out in front of it on one of his sea chests, eating.
Torvald had pulled his own chest beside him and was also eating, although with little enthusiasm. "There are only so many days in a row I can eat porridge," he said, "before it begins to stick in my throat. It is a good thing there will be meat at the feast tonight."
Einar, who was seated on the ground nearby with Gudfred, said, "I enjoy boiled barley for my morning meal."
Torvald held his spoon over his bowl and let its contents fall back in with a plop. He shook his head and sighed. "I would much prefer to drink barley as ale than eat it as mush."
I filled my bowl at the fire. As I turned to go and join the others, I saw what looked to be a stack of bloody horse's legs lying off to one side.
"The place of sacrifice was very strange," Einar told me, as I sat down. "It was a great stone fortress built on the edge of a cliff, very old and fallen into ruin. You will see it tonight. The feast is to be there."
"I asked Nori about it," Hastein volunteered. "He said there are many such ruins across Oeland—almost a score in all. They have all been abandoned for longer than anyone can remember. At one time, this island must have been home to many warriors. It must have been a powerful kingdom in those days. Einar told me, by the way," he added, looking at me, "of your questioning of Skjold. It was good that you did so. I did not realize Toke had so few men with him. We still have a goodly advantage of numbers—at least for now." He stared at me for a moment, then said, "You have a strange look on your face."
"There is a stack of legs by the fire. Horses' legs," I answered.
"I brought those," Torvald said. "The Oelanders gave them to me. Cullain asked for them."
"The Oelanders sacrificed two horses this morning," Einar told me. "I have never seen a horse sacrificed before. They tied their feet together and toppled them onto their sides, then cut their throats."
"And they were big, fine horses," Torvald added. "At least there will be much meat for the feast."
"But why the legs?" I asked.
Hastein answered. "Cullain is going to boil them to make a bone broth. He says it will take at least two days to make, but when it is done, drinking it will help our wounded regain their strength. He is concerned about Stig. He lost much blood and is very weak. If he does not get stronger soon, he will not heal."
Cullain walked over to the pile, picked up one of the legs, and carried it and a large iron cauldron to a nearby log that had washed up onto the beach. Using the log as a chopping block, he began to hack the leg into short lengths with an axe, tossing the pieces into the pot.
"That will dull the blade," Torvald said.
"Was there any sign of the prisoners?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," Gudfred answered, a grim smile on his face. "They were there. Or at least their heads were, stuck on poles at the place of sacrifice."
"Ah," Torvald said, and pointed. "Look. Here comes Halfdan's new woman."
"She is not my woman," I snapped, and turned to look. Rauna was standing at the edge of the encampment, as if fearful of entering it. She was holding a wooden bowl in her hands. Several of our men were staring at her curiously.
I stood and walked over to her. "Follow me," I told her. She said nothing, but followed, her head down so she would not have to meet the gazes of those watching.
At the fire, I took her bowl, filled it, and handed it back to her. She stared at it suspiciously. "What is this?" she asked.
"It is barley. Boiled barley porridge. Do your people not grow barley?"
She shook her head. After a few moments, she said, "I thank you," then turned and hurried back through the camp to her tent, where she went inside, hidden from sight.
"I have never seen a Finn woman before," Gudfred commented when I returned. "She is not what I expected."
"What did you expect?" Torvald asked.
"I do not know. I have heard that the Finns live deep in the forests, and are a wild people, savages. But she is rather comely, and does not look at all like a wild savage."
"They do not look very different from us," Hastein said, "though they do not tend to be as tall. I lived for a time in Halland as a boy. I was fostered in the home of a chieftain there. He traded with the Finns each spring. They would bring furs to trade for goods they could not make for themselves. They are a simple, peaceful folk. And though they do mostly live deep in the forests, they are not savages."
"Her father was not so peaceful," Gudfred observed.
"No," Hastein agreed. "It was a strange thing to find a Finn fighting with Sigvald's men." To me he said, "You may not consider her your woman, but you should at least make it known that she is under your protection because of a promise you made to her father, before he died. If you do not, another may try his luck with her. If our men think her an unattached woman, with no family to protect her…." He shrugged. "As Gudfred says, she is somewhat comely, and our men have been long away from the company of women."
"But Halfdan made no such promise to the Finn," Gudfred protested, looking surprised. "I was there. He promised only to give her the bag he wore around his neck."
Hastein looked at me and raised his eyebrows. Now I shrugged. "It seemed the easiest way to persuade Osten to leave her be."
"I wonder what was in that bag," Einar said. "I suspect it was some kind of magic charm."
"If so, it did not protect the Finn," Gudfred pointed out.
"You did persuade Osten to leave her be," Hastein told me, an annoyed expression on his face. "But what now? What is your plan now that she is here with us on Oeland?"
"I do not have a plan," I admitted.
"You had best come up with one. And quickly," Hastein replied.
* * *
When the sun reached its noon zenith, we marched up onto the ridge to the death ship to bid farewell to our fallen comrades. Each man brought a drinking cup with him for the toasts we would make to the dead. I carried the fine drinking horn Hastein had given me in Frankia.
The cask of ale which had been brought ashore from the Gull had seen hard use the
night before, but was still half full. It had been carried up the hill and placed a short distance from the death ship. A small fire had been built beside it, and several unlit torches lay ready beside the fire. As each man passed the cask, he dipped his cup inside the open top and filled it with ale.
While Hastein climbed the gangplank up onto the deck, the rest of us gathered in a half circle below, facing the side of the ship. A large group of Oelanders, Nori among them, stood watching nearby.
Hastein raised his hand, signaling for silence, and began to speak.
"My comrades. My brothers—for that is what we all are now. When we began this voyage, we were not as one. We were a company in name only. But now we have fought together, and have won a great victory over a force much larger than our own. Truly, now we are all brothers in arms.
"Every victory has a price. Twelve of our company paid for our victory with their lives. We are here to honor them, and to send them on their way. This night, while we feast here on Oeland, our comrades will feast with the gods in Valhalla."
Turning slightly so he could see the twelve bodies laid out across the deck behind him, but could still be heard by those standing below, Hastein raised the silver cup he held and shouted, "To Hrodgar!" When he did, I realized that he was wearing, around his upper arm, his golden ring—the oath ring of a godi.
Lowering the cup, he continued. "He was a brave man, who valued honor more than life itself. A just man, who would not turn a blind eye to niddingsvaark. A man who lived a long and good life, and chose a warrior's death. More than once, Hrodgar has fought for me, at my side. I will miss you, my friend." Again Hastein raised his cup high, and this time we all raised ours, too, and cried out in unison, "To Hrodgar!" then drank.
The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) Page 25