“What are you doing?” asked Signy, running over to stop him.
“I’m going back for Finn.”
“That’s suicide,” she said, eyeing the soldiers spreading out across the land, heading up toward the monastery. “If we leave now, we can all get out alive.”
“I’m not leaving a loved one behind.” He looked over to Kadlin when he said it. Their eyes interlocked for a mere second and she dropped her gaze to the floor of the ship.
“Skuti – if I’m not back with Finn before the soldiers make their way down to the water . . . leave without us.”
Kadlin’s head jerked upward and her eyes opened wide. He was sure she was going to object, but she didn’t.
Brandr was too choked up to say anything to her. Instead, he lowered himself over the side of the longboat into the water and ran up the hill to the monastery. He prayed to Odin to protect him, because he had a good idea this time it would be him lying wounded or dead on the shores as the longboats pulled away.
Chapter Six
Kadlin watched in horror as Brandr ran up the hill with his weapons drawn, heading right into the midst of trouble. What was he doing? She’d sounded the horn and warned them. They could be safe and gone from here by now, but instead he was heading back to the monastery to save his fool brother.
“I’m going after him,” she said, hurrying over to the sidewall.
“Nei, you will not!” Her mother grabbed her by the arm, but Kadlin managed to pull away.
“I can’t let him die,” she said, surprising herself by these words, as she really thought she wanted him dead up until now. Kadlin tried again to get to the side of the ship but Asa blocked her path, standing like a warrior with her shield in hand and her legs planted in a stance that said she wasn’t going to let her sister pass.
“Asa, move aside,” said Kadlin. Her sister looked so much like a warrior and so much older than her seventeen years of age. The years had changed people and she hardly even recognized her little sister anymore. She’d grown up and turned into a shieldmaiden, while Kadlin had spent the last five years learning how to communicate with monks who worshipped a God that was foreign to her.
“Let him die,” said Asa. “After all, isn’t that what he did to you? Left you?”
She looked up to see the other two longboats already sailing away from the shore. Skuti was giving orders to the men to raise the sail and she knew, although he was Brandr’s uncle, he wouldn’t wait for him to return.
A shout was heard and she ran back to the rail and looked over the edge to see the soldiers riding their mounts through the gates of the monastery. Brandr was in there with his brother and now they would be trapped. She knew it would be only a matter of minutes before the soldiers realized the Vikings were already back on the ships and come for them. And when she heard Skuti’s next command, she realized she was about to lose Brandr forever this time.
“Oarsmen, prepare yourselves for departure. We will wait only another few minutes for Brandr and Finn, and then we will sail away without them.”
*
“Finn, Finn, where are you, you fool!” Brandr stormed through the gates of the monastery to find his brother dragging a heavy bag behind him, with another one over his shoulder. He still held a torch in one hand.
“Give me a hand with all this booty,” said Finn, his face lighting up until he saw the soldiers coming right behind Brandr.
“Behind you,” he called out, and Brandr raised his sword and swung around just in time to stop a blow that could have been deadly. He managed to take out the man with one fatal swipe of his sword, but another soldier atop a horse threw a rope around him and rode away, dragging Brandr behind him.
“You don’t do that to my family and live to tell about it.” Finn dropped everything and picked up his battle axe, flinging it through the air. It hit the soldier in the back and the man fell from his horse to the ground, almost hitting Brandr in the process.
“Aaaaargh,” Finn cried out, holding his shield and sword high and running through the courtyard like a man possessed, striking down one soldier after another.
“Finn, let’s go,” shouted Brandr. He wasn’t afraid of a fight, but knew they were severely outnumbered and that the longboat was about to leave without them.
He unwound himself from the rope and pushed up to his feet. There was chaos all around him and the soldiers were closing in. His hand went to his sword and he prepared himself for battle. There was no way out of it this time.
“Kadlin,” he heard someone say from behind him. He turned to see the monk he’d followed up to the bell tower. He was sitting atop a horse-drawn wagon full of hay. “Kadlin,” he said again and held his hand to his heart.
“You were her friend?” he asked, in his own language. The monk seemed to understand him and nodded. Then he pointed to the back of the wagon and headed the horse toward the gate.
Brandr could see what the monk was doing. He was trying to help him. His cart was headed right toward the gate. The soldiers were getting out of his way. This might just work, but he needed another distraction. He picked up the burning torch that Finn had dropped and lit a pile of hay on fire, and then another. They went up in flames. Shouts were heard and some of the soldiers jumped off their horses to aid in trying to put out the fire before the entire wooden building went up like a torch.
Brandr ran and jumped onto the back of the wagon, throwing the torch into it, and setting it afire as well. As they passed his brother, he jumped off the cart and grabbed him. Throwing him into the back of the flaming cart, he dove in, too. The flames weren’t touching them, just helping them. The monk drove right past the soldiers and out the gates without being stopped.
*
“We’ll wait no longer – men we sail,” shouted Skuti, spitting over the side of the boat.
Kadlin heard the sickening creak of the longboat as the wooden oars slapped the water and they started to move. Her heart broke in half to think they’d be leaving Brandr behind. After having lost him once, she wasn’t about to let it happen again.
“Nei,” she cried, running to the other end of the boat as it moved through the water. She looked out toward the shore and saw a flaming horse-drawn cart heading toward the shore with an entourage of men on horseback following from a short distance behind. She looked harder and realized it was Brother Francis driving and, if she wasn’t mistaken, she saw Brandr and Finn hanging off the sides of the burning cart.
“Wait! It’s them,” she cried out. “Stop the boat.”
“Nei, keep going,” shouted Skuti. “It’s too risky to stop. The soldiers are headed in this direction.”
Without even pondering her action, she ran to the side of the boat and jumped off into the water. As she hit the water, she heard her mother shouting for the oarsmen to stop rowing.
Kadlin sloshed through the water toward the shore and stopped in her tracks as an arrow whizzed past her ear, landing right behind her.
“Kadlin, come back,” shouted her mother from the boat.
She looked up to see Brandr and Finn with their weapons raised, jumping off the burning cart and running toward the longboat. She smiled and then nodded her thanks to Brother Francis who stopped the skittish horse right at the water’s edge.
The man’s eyes opened wide and he stiffened, then fell from the cart to the ground. She realized what had happened when she saw an arrow sticking out of his back.
“Brother Francis!” The horse almost trampled him as it broke loose from the burning cart and a flame caught on the monk’s robe, setting him afire.
“Let’s go,” said Brandr, grabbing her by the arm and leading her toward the boat with his brother at his side.
“We can’t! Brother Francis is hurt,” she cried. “And on fire!”
“He’s probably already dead,” said Brandr. “Now hurry, the soldiers are coming.”
She shook loose of his hold and pushed away from him. “Is that what you said about me five years ago? Well, I’ll no
t leave a friend for dead the way you did.” She started toward the monk, but Brandr pulled her back once more.
“I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to. Now, I said let’s go.”
“Go without me. I’m not leaving the monk. He’s the one who saved my life. Now, it’s only fair I do the same for him.”
Brandr let out an exasperated breath, knowing Kadlin wasn’t going to change her mind. He also knew she was right – he did leave a friend for dead and he was not about to make the same mistake twice, even if the friend was Kadlin’s and not his.
“Get on the ship,” he said in a low voice. When she started to object, he just nodded to his brother. Finn leaned over and put the girl over his shoulder and lifted her into the air. She kicked and screamed as he hurried to the safety of the boat.
Brandr turned around and headed back to shore. This was either going to land him in the good graces of Kadlin or kill him, but either way he had to try to save the monk. If he didn’t, there would be no living with Kadlin, as she would never let him forget that he’d left two people behind to die.
Chapter Seven
Kadlin almost retched as Finn climbed over the side of the longboat with her over his shoulder. He plopped her down on the deck and the boat continued to move away from shore. She ran to the sidewall and peered out into the night, seeing Brandr block several arrows with his wooden shield as he made his way toward the monk. The soldiers were riding their horses toward him and getting closer. The Vikings were still too close to shore to be safe and this worried her.
“Hurry,” she cried out, watching Brandr take off his fur vest and tunic and use them to beat out the flames on the monk’s robe. Then bare-chested, he threw the monk over his shoulder, and dodged a few more arrows as he ran out to the water to catch up to them.
“Someone help him,” she cried.
Finn and another Viking reached out over the side of the boat and pulled the monk to safety, laying him on the floor. She ran to him and got down to her knees, putting her hand on his neck, happy to find a pulse. Still, there was an arrow in his back, he was full of blood, and his skin was burned in spots.
“Faster! Row faster!” she heard Skuti call out loudly. She stood up to see Brandr’s hands on the outside edge of the boat. A soldier jumped into the water and pulled him back down. They both went under the water with a splash.
“Help!” cried Kadlin. “Someone help Brandr!” She ran half the length of the boat, stepping over the oarsmen, pushing her way closer to the edge. She looked down into the water, trying to see Brandr. She saw the water turn red and knew it was blood. Her heart about stopped until Brandr’s head broke the surface and he gasped for air.
“Brandr, over here.” She grabbed an oar from one of the men rowing and pushed it out further for him to grab onto. But now more soldiers were climbing the side of the ship and arrows rained down from the sky. “Someone help me,” she cried, not being strong enough to pull him to safety. Finn ran over and grabbed the oar, pulling his brother closer.
“We’ll cover you,” said Asa. Kadlin’s sister and mother held their shields around all of them, protecting them from the barrage of arrows. Finn grabbed on to Brandr’s hand and pulled him into the boat. He fell with a plop at her feet and she got to her knees and threw her arms around him.
“Brandr, thank the gods you made it.”
“No thanks to you,” he threw her words back at her and she couldn’t say she blamed him. If she hadn’t insisted he go back for the monk, they’d be safe and out of danger by now. All she wanted to do was hold him close and kiss him. She wanted him to tell her that everything would be all right now that they were together again. But instead, he got to his feet and took command of the ship like any jarl worth his salt would do.
“Let’s get out of here,” he called out. “Now row like men, not girls,” he said to the oarsmen. The ship left the shore and the foreign soldiers behind. They were soon out of reach of their attackers’ arrows and Kadlin sighed in relief that they’d made it to the safety of the vast sea.
*
Brandr didn’t sit down until the longboat was far from the shores of Northumbria and they were safely out of harm’s way.
“Here,” said his uncle, pushing a bottle into his hands. “This is some fine wine those monks drink. Try it.” He chuckled and started digging through his bag of plunders.
Brandr raised the bottle to his lips, closing his eyes slightly as the robust, earthy, fruit flavor slid down his throat. Skuti was right. The monks did have fine wine. He took another drink and this time over the top of the bottle he saw Kadlin down on her knees, holding onto the shaft of the arrow in the monk’s back. Two Vikings held him down on either side.
“Now,” she called out, and ripped the arrow from the man’s flesh in one jerk.
The monk screamed out and writhed on the deck of the ship.
Then she said something to him in a foreign language and took cloths and pressed them against his bleeding wound. Curious, Brandr made his way over to Kadlin with the bottle still in hand.
“Did you want some?” He held out the bottle to Kadlin. She looked up and just shook her head.
“I don’t want to drink wine that was stolen from my friends.”
“Your friends?” asked Brandr. “I suppose you’ve learned their language while you were there as well.”
She looked up and scowled. “I had five years to do it,” she retorted. Then she reached up and ripped the bottle from his hands, pouring wine into the monk’s mouth to help ease his pain.
Kadlin opened a bag tied to her waist and Brandr could see herbs inside and things she used for healing. She worked quickly to clean and dress the monk’s wound.
She talked to him in his language which seemed to help still him. Her voice was calm and soothing even in such a dire situation. Brandr almost found himself jealous by the way she cared for the monk, wishing it was him she touched and talked to instead.
She finished up and Asa and Signy helped the monk to sit without leaning back on his wound.
“What are we going to do with him?” asked Finn, taking the bottle from the floor where Kadlin had placed it, helping himself to some wine.
“Since I risked my neck to save him, he’ll be my thrall,” answered Brandr.
“Your thrall?” Kadlin stood up, wiping the blood from her hands with a rag. “Brother Francis is my friend. He saved my life. He can’t be naught more than your slave.”
“It’s the spoils of war,” he reminded her, only getting another scowl from her in return.
“Here,” he said, taking the bottle from his brother and handing the monk the wine. “You look like you need more wine.” The monk’s frightened eyes flashed over to Kadlin, but he didn’t take the proffered drink. “Suit yourself.” Brandr raised it up to his lips again, but Kadlin reached out and snatched it away from him. She said something to the monk once again that Brandr couldn’t understand, then raised the bottle to the monk’s lips to help him drink once more.
“Kadlin, when we get back to Skathwaite, we will talk in private,” said Brandr, no longer willing to wait after all these years, but also not wanting to have a boatful of Vikings listening to his conversation with her either. He needed not only to talk to Kadlin – but to be with her. It had been too long without her in his life and he would remedy that soon. He would wait until they returned home, but then she would be his wife no matter how much she might hate him.
Chapter Eight
Three days had passed since they’d left the shores of Northumbria and Brandr was getting impatient. They’d been back home for a day and a night already and still he hadn’t had the chance to speak with Kadlin. She’d busied herself taking care of the monk every minute of the day. At night she pretended to sleep while Brandr knew she really just didn’t want to talk with him.
“So what are you going to say to her?” Finn bit into a roasted leg of lamb and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Brandr looked up across the long fire pit that took up mo
st of the inside of the longhouse to see Kadlin handing the monk food on one of the silver plates they’d pilfered from the monastery. She had done a good job healing him and he no longer looked as if he were going to die.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever have a chance to talk to her with that monk at her side.”
One of the women of the clan walked up behind Brandr and started rubbing his shoulders. She was a comely wench and had tried many times to snare Brandr as her husband, but he hadn’t wanted anyone but Kadlin.
“Then do something about it.” Finn picked up a drinking horn of mead and sucked down the fermented honey liquid.
“I will.” He looked over the flames and called out in a loud voice. “Kadlin, please bring my thrall to me. I’d like to talk to him.”
She looked up, confused, and then translated to the monk.
“I’m waiting,” he told her.
She slowly stood, helping the monk walk, and they made their way around the fire to the other side of the pit.
“Brother Francis is weak and cannot stand for long,” she said with a stiff upper lip. “He needs to sit.”
“Fine,” said Brandr with a nod. “Finn, get up and let my thrall sit down.”
“What?” His brother looked up in horror and then started laughing. “You jest, brother. For a moment I thought you meant to give my seat of honor to your slave.”
“You heard me.”
Kadlin held on to the monk and almost laughed when she saw Finn’s face turn red with anger. She liked that Brandr was giving the seat of honor to Brother Francis. It said to her that maybe he wasn’t such a black-hearted beast after all. But then again, he had Una rubbing his shoulders and sidling up to him. Kadlin didn’t like that in the least.
Finn growled, then stood up, knocking over the drinking horn with a shove as he left his coveted spot. “No jarl would treat a brother the way you do,” he complained as he headed away.
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