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Blood Eagle: A riveting historical thriller

Page 15

by Derek, Julia


  Nils gave me a sullen nod.

  “Well, I will go over to the oaks and wait for my father,” Hilda said. “You two stay here meanwhile.”

  “Do you really think it’s wise to go alone, Hilda?” I asked. “I should come with you.”

  “No, I want to speak to my father alone first. It’s better that way, trust me. Wait here. You two are close enough as it is in case something happens.” With those words, she left us so that she could sneak over to the two oaks.

  25

  I watched how Hilda made her way through the close-growing pines and out onto the open plain, hunching down to make herself less visible. Doing so wasn’t really necessary as she was wearing Elsa’s clothes: a gray woolen tunic over a long brown linen sheath. And she had tied a piece of cloth around her head to hide her long blond locks. From a distance, she could be any farmer’s wife, a slave even.

  As Hilda got closer to the trees, I turned my head to ask Nils if he had seen Ragnar anywhere on the Jarlabanke premises. The shorter man was staring hard after Hilda, exactly like I had been doing. But as I opened my mouth to speak, I discovered that Nils’s eyes kept flickering toward the entrance. I was absolutely certain then that I had been right about the man—something was up and I couldn’t let Hilda go over on her own. Making myself as small as I could manage, I set after her, ignoring Nils’s protests.

  Hilda reached the gigantic twin oak trees that grew eighty steps from the edge of the forest and 100 from the main entrance of the estate, the same trees where I had met Thora a few days earlier. As Hilda placed herself next to the massive trunk of the bigger of the two oaks, the one farthest from the forest, I stopped as well and hid behind the other oak. I was still not close enough to her to be able to properly protect her in case the person coming out to meet her attempted something. I cocked my head and glanced at the wide oak crowns. The large, muscular branches intertwined, connecting them like a pair of deformed twins. I ascended the tree as quietly as I could manage. It was an easy climb and I moved from the branches of one tree to the other without much effort. I didn’t stop until I was directly above Hilda, who stole quick looks of the entrance from behind the trunk.

  Before long a figure exited the estate. It moved toward Hilda with brisk steps. I could tell immediately that it was a tall and well-built man, but I couldn’t tell whether it was Bjorn or Loke. The sun was so low in the sky now its rays shone directly into my eyes, as I looked in the direction of the approaching man. Hilda must have the same problem, for she held a hand against her forehead, shading her eyes.

  It couldn’t be Bjorn; there was too much vigor in the gait for it to belong to an older person. I prepared myself to jump down from the tree the moment I could see for sure who it was, and how the person would attack Hilda. I breathed deeply through my nostrils, gathering as much strength and precision as I could muster. I felt how even the tiniest muscle in my body tightened from the increasing tension. Very soon I would be on top of the man, disarming him and beating him down. The man was close to Hilda now, and I could see how he spread out his arms to embrace her. I silently cursed the sun, for now it shone so strongly that I couldn’t see anything at all. I threw a glance down at Hilda. She had opened her arms as well, and there was a big smile on her face as she looked at the man. Oh, no, I thought, terrified. She must think her brother came as a friend… But then I saw that it was in fact Bjorn. Hilda let herself disappear into the strong arms of the powerful Jarlabanke leader. They embraced for a long time.

  I suppose I didn’t take into account the rejuvenating effect finding out your dead child is in fact alive could have on an older man, I thought.

  I watched them from where I sat, perched like a bird and feeling like a fool, hardly daring to breathe from fear of being discovered. Hilda would be furious if she found out that I had followed her against her strict orders not to. I couldn’t blame her. What had I been thinking? Hilda had known all along that Nils was a trustworthy man, and she had known him far longer than I had.

  Father and daughter let go of each other now, though Bjorn’s hands remained on Hilda’s arms.

  “Hilda, my daughter. I cannot believe it,” he said, out of breath. He smiled and squeezed her shoulders. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes, Father. It is really me. The Angel of Death realized I wasn’t dead and had her family dig me up soon after I was buried.”

  The large man shook his head. “I don’t understand anything. Why didn’t she tell me if she knew? Well, you will tell me. But what is all this hush-hush about? We are all so glad that you’re still alive. Come on, let’s go back to the house.” Bjorn offered his daughter his arm and edged to get going. Hilda stopped him.

  “Father, I’m afraid not everybody is happy to find out that I’m still breathing.”

  Bjorn looked at her with sincere surprise. “Who wouldn’t be happy to see that you are alive?”

  “Ragnar. He was the one who tried to kill me, not Leif. So that he could marry Thora.”

  “Ragnar..?” Bjorn’s arm had dropped to his side and he was staring at Hilda. “Ragnar tried to kill you?”

  Hilda nodded.

  Silence followed as the words sunk into Bjorn’s consciousness. His voice was lifeless when he finally spoke again. “Tell me everything from the beginning, Hilda.”

  The sun had already set when Hilda was through telling her story. Bjorn sighed and his large shoulders slumped. “I cannot believe it. I cannot believe there is such evil in my own blood.” He sighed heavily again. “But there is. Well. I see now what all the mystery is about. Is Leif with you right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “At the next gathering at the People’s Assembly, I will announce that he is no longer to be a forest man, and that the Blackhairs have regained ownership of their farm. Naturally, we will have to give them a certain amount of land and our possessions to make up for what they have been made to suffer.” Bjorn shook his head miserably “And, oh, how I have made them suffer!” He tsk-tsked. “The Law Speaker and the judges will have to decide how much we must give them to restore what we have put them through. It will be a considerable amount, especially now that Yakoube has fallen sick. So sick. That poor man, worked too hard...” Bjorn became silent as he seemed to ponder this unfortunate reality. Then, looking his daughter in the eye, he added, “Our lives will never be like before. Our family is tarnished now.” Bjorn looked away for a brief moment before he spoke again. “Ragnar has to be punished. Severely punished.”

  “Father, it doesn’t have to be quite that bad. Leif says that his family would settle with you outside the People’s Assembly, if you would like. With Yakoube so sick, Leif is the one in charge of the Blackhairs, him being the oldest now.”

  “What are you suggesting, my daughter?”

  “We can save our family a lot of shame if nobody finds out that I survived, and that it was really Ragnar who tried to kill me. On Friday, at the Assembly, you can just announce that you have had second thoughts regarding Leif’s trial, and that you no longer believe Leif is the murderer. Therefore, you have decided to pardon him. You will also give the Blackhairs their farm back. In this manner, you will come off in a good light and the Jarlabankes will keep their reputation. Certainly, we will have to find a way to punish Ragnar for what he did. You and the men of the family know best what should be done. The people may suspect the truth, but they will respect and understand that we prefer to keep it in the family.”

  “And what about you, Hilda?? What are you going to do?”

  She smiled. “I will just stay with the Russian family on the other side of the province. My life there is good and nobody would find me there.”

  Bjorn frowned. “I don’t want you to have to hide for the rest of your life. Absolutely not. If the truth comes out, so be it. People can say what they want to say, and that they will do. Let them. As long as we never admit to anything, they will never know for sure. But you will stay here with me. I’m not going to deny the existence of my own daughte
r.”

  “Whatever you think is best, Father.”

  “Where are you going to sleep tonight, Hilda? You will come back with me now, won’t you?”

  “It is better if I stay with the Blackhairs for the night while you prepare the rest of the family. It will be difficult with Ragnar, don’t you think?”

  Bjorn nodded slowly, sighing heavily. “You are right. I will need tonight to prepare everyone and decide the best way to go about everything. But promise me you will come back tomorrow. I will send for you when I know it is safe.”

  Hilda nodded and kissed her father on the cheek.

  “We must part now, my daughter. It’s getting dark and cold. How are you getting back?”

  “Leif and the man with the message are waiting for me in the woods. They will take me. Don’t you worry about that. Will you tell Mother that I’m alive?” Bjorn nodded. Hilda’s mother was Menja, Bjorn’s favorite mistress. “I will see you later, Father.” Hilda turned around and left her father standing looking after her as she returned to the woods. Then he, too, left.

  I returned to our original hiding place amongst the pine trees in the woods shortly after Hilda. Nils was squatting beside a boulder as he waited for us. When Hilda discovered me behind her, I could see in her face that she already knew what I had done.

  “I’m sorry, Hilda,” I mumbled. “I should have listened to you.” I didn’t know what else to say. I stared down into the ground.

  “Don’t be sorry, Leif, I’m not angry. Maybe it was good that you followed me after all. One can never be too safe.”

  I raised my head, surprised, and saw that she smiled a little.

  “To tell you the truth,” she continued. “I figured all along that you would disobey me and come after me. And I heard you there above me in the tree.”

  “You did?” I stared at her, genuinely surprised.

  “Yes.” Hilda’s smile widened. “Now let’s go.”

  The three of us arrived in time for the Blackhair household’s evening meal. Everyone but Yakoube was sitting around the hearth, about to share the pea and chicken stew Elsa had prepared. Hilda helped her load the food onto wooden plates and pass them around to everyone. Then she sat down next to me. I turned to her.

  “I really regret that I didn’t let you have your moment alone with your father, Hilda. Really, I do.” I still felt bad for having disobeyed Hilda, so bad that I could feel even my earlobes getting hot from shame. Hilda laughed and put her hand on mine. “I’m happy you were there. How many times do I have to tell you?”

  I nodded dumbly.

  “In any case,” Hilda continued, in a more serious voice now. “What do you think of our situation? What do you think will happen?”

  “Your father is a reasonable man, so I’m not worried about him. What he said today, he will do. I only worry about what Ragnar will do. How he will react.” I was not going to add anything about how I also worried about what Loke would do; I had made enough rash judgments for one day. But really, I worried more about what Loke would do than I worried about Ragnar. Unlike Bjorn and his brother Ragnar, both generous men, Loke had a stingy nature and would not be pleased when he found out how his father wanted to handle the situation.

  “I agree,” Hilda replied. “Father will control the situation just fine. He always does. And he will especially control Ragnar. I just feel bad for Father. He doesn’t deserve all of this. And I feel even worse for your father. How is Yakoube doing?”

  I looked away. Then I said, “Not very well, I’m afraid. But I’m sure he will do better if he gets to see you. You know how he has always loved you. He hoped that I would mar—” I caught myself, but I knew it was too late. Hilda, like the lady she had always been, pretended not to have noticed. Instead, she said, “I would love to see him, too.”

  “After the meal we will go over to his bed and see if he is awake,” I replied.

  26

  Later that evening I brought Hilda to my father, who was resting in the far back of the longhouse. His body was buried under a thick layer of furs and animal hides, his gaunt face feverish and glossy from sweat. According to Elsa, it looked like he was about to wake up at last.

  Hilda and I sat down next to the wide bench that served as his sickbed and waited for the ailing man to notice our presence. His head turned back and forth as though in blind pursuit of something because his eyes were closed. The skin on his face was so bright red one knew without even touching it that it was burning hot. Whatever was left of his thick black hair was stringy and dull. Unintelligible words trickled out from between his parched lips. I put my hand on top of his fisted one.

  “Father,” I said quietly. “It is me, Leif. I’m back.”

  Yakoube’s eyelids fluttered at the sound of my voice, but he didn’t open them. We remained seated there for a while, contemplating the older man. Then Hilda removed my hand from my father’s and whispered, “He cannot talk, Leif. Let’s leave him to sleep. We can come back later.”

  I nodded and we got to our feet. We walked back to the hearth where everybody in the family but the two youngest, Anna and Inga, were still seated. None of us could find enough peace to fall asleep until Bjorn’s messenger had arrived, and we had an inkling of what would happen next. The two Russian brothers sat on the wide earth shelf that edged one of the walls, playing a board game. Planks had been placed on top of the shelf to protect people’s asses from getting soiled when sitting there. Seated cross-legged on animal hides by the hearth, Styrbjorn and Jerker were repairing field tools that had broken. Elsa sat by the loom, weaving, and Orvar was blowing a melody into a thin long flute made of bone.

  Nils was whittling new arrows for his bow with his special knife. The knife was made of such quality iron Nils claimed it was indestructible, only requiring sharpening once a year. His uncle had given it to him on his death bed when Nils was a young child, making it even more precious. So, naturally, when Nils realized after the evening meal that he had forgotten it in our arrival ship, he simply had to head over to where it was anchored to pick it up. A particularly sharp-sighted hunter or passerby might discover the ship, Nils had pointed out. If they looked inside, they would surely see the knife where he had left it on one of the benches and steal it. He didn’t want to take any chances.

  Hilda and I sat on two small wooden stools next to the burning hearth, none of us in the mood to continue talking. Instead, we stared into the glowing embers beneath the huge black kettle in which porridge simmered, each entertaining our own thoughts. After some time, I turned ever so slightly and glanced at Hilda. She looked so pretty that I found myself unable to remove my eyes. The long, ashy blond curls that framed the square face seemed softer and more lustrous than before. Her white cheeks had turned a luminous crimson from the heat that emanated from the hearth, giving her a bashful and most appealing appearance. Her full lips were moist and open just a tad, and her eyes had that look people have when their minds have gone to a faraway place.

  She suddenly noticed that I was looking at her. But instead of saying anything this time, she held my gaze for a moment. When she looked away again, there was a tiny smile on her lips.

  Using every bit of my willpower, I made myself stop looking at Hilda and scanned the room instead. Nils came into my field of vision, the innocent-looking man’s eyes fixed at the front door. The skin at the front of his neck had become stringy with taut tendons and his jaw rigid. Pearls of sweat followed the curves of his cheeks and continued onto the ground. His chest heaved up and down as he breathed.

  The farm rooster’s cock-a-doodle-doo-call tore through the silence then, loud and clear, scaring us so much we all jumped like frightened cats. We looked at each other and laughed a little, embarrassed to have reacted so strongly to such a common sound. Nils put his arrow and knife on the ground in front of him and stood up. He stretched his arms up into the air, yawning big. Then he turned to no one in particular and said, “I think I need to get some sleep now. Staying up will do nothing good for
any of us. I’m just going to go out and piss first.” He walked over to the door, opened it and went outside. I caught a glimpse of the sky outside. It had turned a light purple with orange streaks. Any moment, the sun would rise.

  A short while later someone knocked on the door. Hilda turned to me and said, “That must be Father’s messenger. He must have settled everything at home finally.”

  Egin, who sat closest to the door, stood up and walked over to it. As my brother pushed the door open, it suddenly dawned on me that I had been right all along about Nils. I had no doubt whatsoever that this was just my imagination telling me this.

  The little bastard is up to something… Processing the horrible insight, I watched Egin speak to the person behind the door, feeling how my limbs seemed to have turned into stone, no life remaining in them. Egin turned around and looked at Hilda. “There is a message from your father, Hilda. The man here wants you to come out so that he can talk to you alone.”

  Then, all at once, my paralysis was over and my blood filled with furious determination. I shot to my feet and ran to the door. Pushing Egin aside, I stormed out and threw myself over the tall man outside. The man, a startled look on his face, fell backwards onto the ground with me on top of him. I pulled out the knife I kept inside my boot and placed the sharp blade against the man’s throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the gleaming sword that he had dropped on the ground as he fell down. The man stared up at me, his face pockmarked and pallid.

  “Why are you here?” I demanded through clenched teeth. The man’s enormous green eyes and the plain, hollow features were not familiar to me. It struck me that he must look this way because he was starved. I could tell that he struggled to appear confused as he mustered, “I am… I am here to tell Hilda that she can come home now. It is safe for her now.”

  I pressed the sharp knife blade closer to the man’s throat. Fear came into his eyes as the tender skin there threatened to burst from the pressure.

 

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