The Viking

by Talbott, Marti

  It was Macoran who spotted the runaway horse headed into the market place first. People quickly darted out of the way and two of the men tried to catch it, but neither was fast enough. Nor could they understand why the brown mare with a white mane and tail was running for its life.

  In disbelief, Macoran stood up. Men began to shout a warning, but the playing of the flute and the noise of the crowd made it impossible to hear and…Jirvel was directly in the horse’s path. Panicked, Macoran added his shout to the others and started for the steps.

  At the last second Stefan realized what was happening, dove in front of the horse and knocked Jirvel out of the way. He landed on top of her and was certain he hurt her. But he waited until the horse was gone, then quickly rolled off, sat up and turned Jirvel over. The look of shock on her face said it all and an instant later, Macoran scooped her up off the ground and was holding her in his arms.

  “I hit her too hard, I knocked the wind out of her,” a frantic Stefan said as he scrambled to his feet. The stunned crowd had grown completely silent, each eye held on the woman who was still not breathing.

  Macoran leaned her back until her head nearly touched the ground and then jerked her up, “Breathe Jirvel, ye may not leave us, do ye hear me lass?” She did not respond and Macoran was horrified.

  Just as worried, Kannak grabbed her mother’s arm, “Breathe, mother, please breathe”

  He was about to try tipping her back again when at last she blinked her eyes, drew in a huge gulp of air and started to cry. “Dinnae weep, ye are safe now,” Macoran whispered.

  Kannak finally remembered to take a breath of her own and when she saw the worry in her laird’s eyes, she tried to reassure him. “mother always cries when she be frightened.”

  Standing not far away, Stefan was beside himself, “I am so sorry, Jirvel.”

  “Sorry? Ye saved her life, laddie. The horse surely would have killed her.” Macoran turned his attention back to the woman in his arms. “Are ye hurt, can ye stand?” She nodded, so he lowered her feet to the ground and held on until she got her balance.

  Everyone was watching them, even Macoran’s wife who still sat in her chair on the landing and Jirvel began to feel ill at ease. She wiggled free of his hand, straightened her frock, brushed the dirt off her long sleeves and smiled at her daughter. “I am fine now.” But when she started to curtsey to her laird, a pain shot through her right foot.

  She tried to hide her wince, but Macoran was watching her face too closely and took hold of her arm again. He looked around for a chair, spotted one and helped her to it. As soon as she sat down, Macoran knelt down, removed her shoe and felt her ankle for broken bones. “Can ye move it, lass?”

  “Well enough to kick ye.”

  He smiled, several of the people laughed and the mood changed back to the festivities of the day. But Macoran was not convinced until she moved her foot up and down and then side to side. He slipped her shoe back on and stood up. Then he turned to Stefan. “She is to rest and I will have a lad see all of ye home safely.” He watched Kannak fuss over her mother for a moment, and then he put a fatherly arm around Stefan’s shoulders and began to weave the boy through the crowd toward the landing. “All o’ the members o’ my clan are precious to me and I am tortured that I did not realize Kannak and her mother were alone. Tell me, what can I do to help them?”

  Unsure of how much he should say, Stefan hesitated. “Well…”

  Macoran stopped and removed his arm from the boy’s shoulders. “Go on, I need to hear it.”

  “When Kannak’s father left he took all the weapons. I worry when I leave them alone to go on the hunt.”

  Laird Macoran spat on the ground, “That scunner! I will see to it. What else?”

  “They have no hooks for fishing. I go after dark when the fish will come to the light and I can spear them. And…they need new clothing.”

  “Yer a good laddie and ye will be a great lad someday. Tell me, what shall yer reward be for saving Jirvel’s life?”

  A slow grin crossed Stefan’s face, “Yer sword.”

  Macoran roared with laughter and slapped the boy on the back. “When ye have saved ten lasses, it will be yers. Come, I will have ye meet my wife and children.” He stopped, glanced back to see if Jirvel was alright and then leaned just a little closer. “My wife be not so friendly, but pay her no mind. Her father made her marry me and she be unhappy still.”

  *

  For the better part of two hours, Stefan sat beside Laird Macoran on the landing, watched, listened and talked when called upon to do so. Just as Macoran warned, his wife was standoffish and said nothing. She looked incredibly bored but Stefan suspected there was little she did not notice. Laird Macoran’s twin sons, Searc and Sionn, were not in the least standoffish. They behaved when they were with their father but once out of his sight, they peeked around the side of a cottage, decided Stefan was the funniest thing they had ever seen, pointed at him and laughed. Soon they scampered away to find more exciting mischief.

  Stefan ignored them and went back to watching the festival now that he had a high perch from which to observe. What he enjoyed most was watching Macoran watch Jirvel and then watching her ignore him. It was a sort of game they played and on the few occasions when Jirvel looked at him, Macoran seemed to perk up because of it. Conversely, he stiffened every time another man approached her and there were several over the course of the afternoon.

  What fascinated Stefan even more was how much Kannak looked like her father and he wondered how no one else noticed. But then, many in the clans were related in one way or another and most in the Macoran Clan had red hair and green eyes.

  *

  True to his word, Macoran had a man see them home safely and left them with a sword, two daggers, a fishing spear and small iron fishing hooks. As soon as they were home and Jirvel was comfortable in her bed with her foot propped up to help the swelling, both she and Kannak would not rest until they knew every word he and Macoran exchanged.

  Kannak sat on the bed next to her mother and was especially worried, “Did he ask about yer clan in the north?”

  “Aye,” was all Stefan was willing to say.

  She lowered her head and glared at him through the top of her eyes. “Are ye not to tell us?”

  “If ye must know, I told o’ a very tall man in the north who is slow o’ wit, a plentiful waterfall and land with few trees. I may have mentioned I prefer trees.”

  “And what else?” asked Kannak.

  He winked at Jirvel and headed for the doorway. “I told him the lasses were not as beautiful in the North as they are here.” With that, he walked out of the bedchamber, went to the front door and checked to be sure it was bolted. Then he climbed into bed and covered himself. They were still giggling when he fell into a peaceful sleep.

  *

  Two days later, Macoran had a horse and a good size collection of woven cloths delivered including linen for undergarments. It was just in time for Stefan’s long pants would be too short soon.

  Instead of being a tall, sleek, black horse, this one was mostly white with one large brown spot on its rump. It was also short and stocky with an ample width fit for hard work and long hours of travel. Until Stefan got bigger, all three could comfortably ride this horse together which was a good thing because the stallion disappeared again.

  Kannak and Stefan were thrilled with the new horse…Jirvel was suspicious. The word ‘bribery’ came to mind. But as time passed and nothing was asked of her or Kannak, Jirvel began to take to the mare herself, riding her after the day’s work was done, grooming her and making sure she would come when Jirvel whistled. It was yet another measure of comfort and safety she was happy to have. Once, the mare came to the door of the cottage and pushed it open with its head as though it was looking for Jirvel. For days, Stefan and Kannak could not stop laughing about it.

  *

  The early days of spring turned into the long days of summer and they had sunlight for all but a few hours
a night. With the planting finished, Stefan fixed things in the cottage and the shed when it was raining, and clearing heather from more land when it was not. He tended the garden, hunted and fished while Jirvel and Kannak made new clothing for them all.

  If only he knew how to make shoes. At length, he decided to tear his old pair apart to make a pattern, cut new, larger pieces from a deer hide and make his own. They were not the best by any means, but they would do. Kannak laughed at him until he challenged her to make a better pair. That was the end of her laughter on that subject.

  Then one day, after the women returned from bartering the belts they made, Jirvel produced a new pair made by the Macoran cobbler. The cobbler used his old, torn apart pair to make the patterns, they fit perfectly with a little room to grow and he was so pleased, he hugged her.

  CHAPTER VIII

  They went to see about it at the same time for the sad whimper of a dog was a sure sign it was hurt. But when Stefan finally found it, it was not a dog but a gray wolf. Just as he parted the bushes and saw the animal lying on its side hopelessly tangled up in twine, bushes on the other side of the wolf parted and he was face to face with a boy not much younger than he.

  Stefan nodded and then pulled out his dagger, “I say we cut it free.”

  “I say we kill it,” the boy said. “Many’s the lamb who will not be sorry to be shed o’ that one.“

  “This wolf? This precise wolf? Have ye any proof?”

  “‘Tis a wolf, what more proof are ye need’n?”

  The animal’s eyes were wide with fright and Stefan felt sorry for it. “Even a wolf has the right to survive any way it can and this one has cubs somewhere.”

  “Aye but…”

  “We kill lambs for food too, should we be put to death?”

  There was little the other laddie could say, though he did wrinkle his brow. “If I help ye free it, do ye pledge not to tell my father?”

  “I do.”

  The boy knelt down, struggled for a moment to get a firm hold on the wolf’s mouth to clamp it shut and then held its front paws while Stefan carefully cut the twine away. They stared at each other, then when the boy nodded, both he and Stefan let go and quickly moved away. The scared wolf scrambled to its feet and darted through the bushes toward the river. Then it stopped and looked back at them for a long moment.

  “Ye are welcome,” said Stefan. With that, the animal ran down the river bank and out of sight.

  “I am Diarmad from Clan Macoran.”

  “I am Stefan…”

  “I know, we have all heard. Is it true there be a giant in the north that be slow o’ wit?”

  “Aye.” Stefan had a feeling he was about to get trapped in his lie and decided to head home.

  But Diarmad quickly caught up. “When ye go north again, may I go with ye? I would see this giant.”

  So would I, Stefan thought. “‘Twill be a long time afore I go back.”

  Diarmad was disappointed. “But when ye do, will ye take me?”

  Stefan stopped and looked at his new friend. Already he was much taller than Diarmad who had the famous light skin and red hair of the Macorans. Nevertheless, he had blue eyes instead of green and a warm smile. Stefan hesitated to agree to take him north, but decided a lot could happen before then and he probably would not be held to his promise. “Aye.”

  “Macoran told us all about ye, ‘er I should say he told some and they spread it around. Gossip be our favorite diversion.”

  “‘Tis the same where I come from. Where do ye live?”

  “Just beyond the trees. We know Jirvel’s husband cast her off. Two other men went with him. Does she know where they have gone? Macoran would surely like to know, he be none too pleased about it.”

  “She does not and she is well rid o’ her husband from what I can see.”

  “Everyone says he was not inclined to marry her just as she was not inclined to marry him, but they married just the same. Her husband loved another, they say.”

  Stefan was intrigued. “Why do they say that?”

  “Because the lass he wanted to marry…and who wanted to marry him…killed herself the day he married Jirvel.”

  Stefan quickly crossed himself. Then he found a large rock and sat down. “Does Jirvel know?”

  “Aye, the lass hung herself from a branch of that tree next to Jirvel’s cottage and it was Jirvel who found her.”

  Stefan could think of nothing worse and closed his eyes. He liked Jirvel and could only imagine how much pain it caused her. “Tell me, if neither wanted it, why did Eogan marry Jirvel?”

  “That, no one knows for sure but greed be the suspect. ‘Tis said Eogan wanted the land and the only way Macoran would grant it, was if he married Jirvel. ‘Tis said Eogan planned to marry her, accuse her of adultery, set her aside and then marry the lass he loved. That way he could have both his preferred lass and the land.”

  “But the lass he loved did not know o’ his plan.”

  “It would seem not. Are ye the missing Viking?”

  Stefan rolled his eyes. “They have not yet found him?” He quickly searched his mind for something the boy could spread around that would end the suspicion. “As yer well aware, there are many Vikings in the north. I have heard of two who swam a great distance to get to a longship. Perhaps he…”

  Diarmad’s eyes grew wide and he quickly found a rock opposite Stefan to sit on. “In these cold waters?”

  “Aye, they are very strong lads.”

  “‘Tis possible, I suppose. We did not see a lad in the water, but we were not looking for one either.”

  “‘Tis not like the Vikings to leave a lad behind. Perhaps they came back in the night to get him.”

  “That be possible too.”

  He should ask about the battle. Any other laddie who had not been there would, but Stefan could not stand to hear it. “Have ye any brothers and sisters?”

  Diarmad grinned, “If ye’ve a need for a sister, I would be happy to give over five or six. There are seven, all told, but I like the eldest. Her name be Andrina and ye will like her too. She has her wits about her.”

  “No brothers?”

  “Two, both older and set to take wives soon. I dread the day they are gone and I am alone with all those…lassies.”

  “And yer parents?”

  “Mother gave up the ghost two years hence and father has asked for Jirvel.”

  He remembered Macoran saying two men had asked for her and Diarmad’s father must be one of them. “She be married still.”

  “Aye, but when the priest comes after the harvest to collect the tithe, father hopes to convince him to set her marriage aside.”

  “He can do that? Yer father, I mean?”

  “Our priest is not an unreasonable man. He knows ‘tis impossible for a lass to manage alone. Plus…”

  “What?”

  “Father will offer an extra tithe for it.”

  “And if Jirvel refuses to marry him?”

  Diarmad looked shocked, “Lasses are not allowed to refuse. Once Macoran agrees, she be betrothed.”

  Stefan spotted a small round stone in the dirt, leaned over and picked it up. Long ago his father taught him how to play a game with round rocks and he was starting a collection for the son he would have some day. “I dinnae see how forcing a lass to marry be o’ benefit to the husband. I want a wife who loves me.”

  “I confess not all marriages are blissful, but father says a lass learns to love her husband later. He says most are grateful just to have a husband.”

  “I dinnae want a grateful wife, I want one who will be happy to see me when I come home, will be proud to stand by my side and who wants my children. I will settle for nothing less.”

  Diarmad scratched the side of his head. “Let a lass choose, ye mean? ‘Tis unheard of.”

  “‘Tis not unheard of. A lass wants to be truly in love just like most lads. I would want that kind of love for Jirvel and Kannak.” He quickly stood up and headed back to the cottage
. Suddenly he did not like Diarmad’s father.

  “Wait, are ye saying Jirvel would refuse to marry my father even if Macoran proclaimed it?”

  Stefan slowed and let Diarmad catch up. “Would ye like seeing yer Andrina married to a lad she did not love just because yer laird proclaimed it?”

  “She would learn to love him.”

  “Ye cannae truly believe that. Suppose he be a drunkard like Eogan or slothful or even cruel to her. How then is she supposed to learn to love him?” He had said too much for the boy looked in complete misery. “Dinnae fret, when she be old enough to marry, we will find a way to prevent the wrong lad from taking her.”

  “She be old enough now. She be fourteen.”

  “Has a lad asked for her?”

  “Not yet, but father says they will soon. What can we do?”

  “I can do little, but ye have an advantage. Ye know the lads and can judge which will be good to her. Perhaps ye might arrange for the lad o’ yer choosing and yer sister to be together somehow. But see that he be not old for her sake.”

  “I will think on it. Perhaps ye might want her.”

  “I dinnae want a wife nor do I have anything to offer one.”

  Diarmad was disappointed but it passed quickly. “Will ye help me? Perhaps tomorrow we could go to the village and have a look see at the lads.”

  “I have much to do here, but I will ask Jirvel. Tell me, did ye come for a particular reason?”

  “Oh, I near forgot. Father sent me to see if ye want the cow bred. ‘Tis our bull what does it normally.”

  “Come to the cottage and we will ask Jirvel.”

  “Ask a lass?”

  “‘Tis her cow.”

  “Nay, ‘tis Macoran’s cow.” Diarmad suddenly grinned. ‘Tis a worthy cause to go to the village tomorrow and ask Macoran. Do ye agree?”

  Stefan returned his smile. “A worthy cause indeed.”

  *

  Because of her husband’s drunkenness, Jirvel and Kannak had little social life except for the occasional visit to the village, and Jirvel was surprised when a knock at the door produced the widower Ronan from the land next to hers and his seven daughters. He was not an unpleasant looking man, but he was much older and almost shorter than Jirvel.