Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy Book 3)
Page 14
“Ugh, I had enough of this after my wedding.” Emer wrinkled up her nose in disgust.
“Drink it. It will cheer you up. There are things we need to plan.”
“Oh?”
“One thing is for certain. Drifa will speak to Beacan about you and Hari as soon as Atli is safely put away. Depending on what Atli told Beacan, his goods will be divided between Hari and Rolf and possibly some others. Drifa would be pleased if her son’s share was greater than Hari’s, whom she’s never liked. She’s always resented the fact that Atli loved Mabil more than he did her and that Hari is the eldest living child. If she can cheat him out of part of his inheritance she will. Accusing you of being a witch gives her a good excuse to do so. That will divert people from thinking about what she’s really up to.”
“But what can she do?”
“If you were found to be a witch, she could have you burned or set adrift in a boat without oars. If Hari supported you, he’d have to fight and he’s not much of a fighter. If he didn’t support you he’d be disgraced — taken for a fool or worse. She could say that you were in it together and get rid of him that way.”
Emer shuddered. “Hush. You’re terrifying me.”
“Good, you need to be terrified. I wasn’t before, but I am now after what you’ve told me. If you go down, I’ll go down with you. I know Drifa better than you do, that’s why I avoid her as much as possible. Fortunately she’s not interested in me — I’m of no importance to her, but you are and Hari stands in Rolf’s way. If she has to use you to get rid of Hari, she will.”
“What can I do?”
“A lot will depend on what Atli told Beacan and what the law says. I can’t help you there. But if I were you, I’d be ready for the worst. To save your life and Hari’s you might need to run away from here.”
“I see what you mean,” Emer said. “If Atli left the biggest part of his wealth to Rolf then there’s less point in Drifa making trouble. If he left it equally between both of them, or more to Hari then she would.”
“Yes. Also, you’re a stranger here so only a few people would take your part. Hari’s never troubled to make friends and before you came, he stood apart from everyone in this village. People resented his lack of interest in their affairs. They’ve forgotten how he used to be as a child or the fact that they loved his mother. You’ve changed him. He’s nicer now than he’s been since Atli married Drifa, but the change is too new to change opinions yet. If Beacan finds against either one of you, you’ll be on your own. They won’t listen to me, although Kolla and one or two others might speak for you. If you’re challenged, I don’t think you can win.”
“What do you think I should do then?”
“In your place, I’d be ready to leave with Hari, right after Atli’s funeral, but then I’m a coward.”
“I’m a coward too,” Emer said, “and there’s something else I haven’t told you.” Emer described the vision of Hari tied up on the fireship waiting to be burned alive.
“Gods!” Freydis said. “Where were you in this dream?”
“I was in a skiff, out in the water. When the ship passed by, I scrambled onboard to free Hari.”
“I wonder that you were not lying there beside him. You say your dreams usually come true?”
“They have always done so far.”
“Then we need to work fast. They will attack Hari before the funeral and either way that will be tonight. You’ll need a boat and provisions. Can you manage a skiff?”
“Of course I can; I grew up fishing with my father.”
“Pity.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to come with you, but you won’t need me.”
“Are you mad? Don’t think about it. It will be an awful journey. I don’t even know where to go after we leave here.”
“All the more reason for me to come with you, then. I’ve been to a few of the islands. If you leave me, I’m sure to be questioned and they have ways of making people talk that aren’t nice. I’m a coward, remember, and I’m fed up with it here. Washing bodies and clothes, sewing, working all the time.”
“What about Njall?”
“He hasn’t asked for me and I’m getting sick of waiting for him to make up his mind. I don’t want to stay single all my life.” Emer grinned. “I can manage a sword and I can shoot, even though I’m not as good as you. Can I come, please?”
“If you’re daft enough — yes.”
Freydis hugged her and said, “So get off your butt and come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To find you a boat.”
Freydis and Emer walked along the shore, looking at the cluster of small boats drawn up on the beach.
“This one,” she said. “We can manage it ourselves and it’s sturdy. Don’t take too much notice of it now. Later on I’ll pretend I’m going fishing and bring it round to a place I’m going to show you. Then we’ll go back. Pack anything you want to take in a bag and give it to me. I’ll do the same and put both of them into the boat. I don’t know what to do about Hari’s things.”
“I must talk to him.”
In the event, Emer never got the chance to speak to Hari. She packed a few items for herself and some of his. She would return them to their proper places if they did not have to leave. She wrapped up their swords, her bow and arrows and warm cloaks. When she was finished, she clutched the green stone she always wore. “Bring me luck tonight,” she murmured to herself. Then she went to the bathhouse and gave the packs to Freydis.
“I’ll go this afternoon,” Freydis told her. “I sometimes take a boat out then so no one should question me. I’ve already taken food and water out to the point. Everyone will be getting ready for the funeral as soon as Beacan arrives. I’ll watch what is happening from the bay. If they decide on a fireship, come to me and we’ll row out together to wait for it. Mabil’s grave is with the others in the next valley, so I’ll be able to see all the people going over the hill to bury Atli beside her. If Hari has had his way, you should both be safe, so I’ll come back here.”
Emer thanked her friend and then asked, “Do you know if Beacan has arrived yet?”
“Not yet. They’re taking a long time to get here. Kolla was saying that they might have had an accident on the way. She was wondering if she should send out searchers to look for them. I wouldn’t put it past Drifa to say you’d bewitched them, so I’d keep out of sight if I were you, until we know. If they can’t find you, they can’t accuse you of anything.”
Emer’s heart beat faster but she said, “Good idea.”
Emer slipped out of the village and went along the shore until she no longer saw the houses. Her guards had ceased to follow her ever since Rolf had returned and they found out Atli was dead. For that she was grateful. She sat down in a sheltered corner to think. She felt terrified, sick and shaking. Her dream seemed to be coming true and she had not yet made a decision. If she had to act quickly and to the purpose, then she must make that decision now.
What had her grandfather said about Hari’s fate? She had three choices. She could leave him to die aboard the fireship. Again Emer saw the horrible sight of a man writhing as the flames took him. She shuddered. Secondly, she could take him to the monastery. Her third choice was to stay with him and bear his children.
“One thing is certain,” she murmured, “I must try to save him from burning to death. I couldn’t live with myself afterwards if I didn’t do that. Once he is free, we have time to decide what to do. If he prefers to become a monk, I won’t stand in his way and I’ll go home…” For a moment she plunged into pleasant memories. Then she shook herself. Thoughts of home were a distraction and she needed all her wits. “If Hari wants me to stay with him, I won’t leave. I swore to be his wife and I’ll keep that oath unless he asks me to break it.” She thought about the journey and wondered if they would survive, even with Freydis’ unexpected help. Then she put that aside, too, for fear was also a distraction. “I wonder what’s happened
to Hari and the others. Maybe they’ve lingered on the road to talk or perhaps Kolla’s right and something has happened to them. I wish I knew.”
Emer was getting cold, for the wind was keen. She rose to her feet and made her way back to the village, her decision made. “Freyja and Frigga protect me now,” she prayed. “Let Beacan arrive and help me to rescue Hari if he is truly in danger.”
15
Emer made her way back to the settlement. It was late afternoon by now and people were finishing off their various tasks. Then someone shouted and another pointed up the hill to where three horsemen were approaching. Emer’s heart gave a sudden thud. She could not make out their features but she knew by his posture that the man on the right was Hari. A great surge of happiness swept over her, surprising her with its intensity. He was alive then and free. Her preparations had been unnecessary.
An old man with a wizened face rode between the brothers. All their faces looked stiff, like men who had not enjoyed a peaceful conversation. Drifa came forward to greet them. Emer, as Hari’s wife, should have been beside her at such a time. Instead she kept out of the way, at the back of the crowd. Drifa ushered the three men inside the longhouse.
“Bring food and drink to us,” she ordered.
Emer stood irresolute, wondering what to do. She wanted to overhear what was said but she did not want to provoke a quarrel by her presence, unless Hari asked for her.
“Leave them,” a soft voice said in her ear. She turned. Kolla stood behind her.
“Hari may need me and I should be there with him.”
“Hari has a smooth enough tongue to fight his own battles and you would divert their talk. Beacan is a just man. He doesn’t like Drifa and advised Atli not to marry her. People say he hasn’t changed his mind and she’s never forgiven him for it. He used to come here often before they married, but we’ve seen little of him ever since. He liked Hari’s mother, as much as he can be said to be fond of any woman. I’d stay out of the way for now. They won’t be long. Whatever is decided, the funeral must be tonight.”
Emer thanked Kolla for her advice and turned away. Suddenly the memory of one of her mother’s stories came to her. A very long time ago, Niamh had hidden beneath the hangings of a large loom and overheard things which had changed her life.
I can do the same, thought Emer. No one will do any weaving at this hour and the looms are near enough to where the men are talking for me to listen to what is being said. If only I can reach them unnoticed.
She whisked round the back of the longhouse to the doorway nearest to the big looms. The area was dim; none of the lanterns had yet been lit. All the activity was around the cooking place at the far end of the house, where women prepared the feast that would follow the funeral. Keeping in the shadows, Emer moved to the biggest loom and rolled herself underneath. It was an excellent hiding place but not near enough for her to hear properly, unless the speakers raised their voices. She lifted the edge of the hanging and peered out. It was impossible for her to get nearer and if anyone saw her, they would question why she had been hiding. She strained her ears, but all she was able to make out was the murmur of sound, not actual words. Then Rolf jumped to his feet with an oath that rang through the air.
“No! That’s not what Fadir wanted. I will not allow it!”
“You have no choice, Brodir. You have listened to Beacan’s words. Whatever Fadir said, he did not have his wishes written onto paper.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Rolf was almost screaming now and his hands had tightened into fists.
“Only you heard Atli’s last words and you may have been mistaken. Not all men talk sense on their deathbed, if they can speak at all.”
“Atli did. If you don’t believe me we can test the truth of what I am saying on the point of a sword.”
“Enough! Things will be as I say. Tonight we will lay Atli to rest. Everything else can be decided later. This is how it will be…” Beacan’s voice sank and Emer could hear no more.
Eventually Beacan rose and Drifa escorted him out of the longhouse. Hari and Rolf stood together talking for a moment and then Rolf turned on his heel and stormed out, but not before shouting,
“You will pay for this, Brodir!” over his shoulder.
Hari left also, before Emer could scramble out from her hiding place. The abrupt departure of the brothers made all eyes stare after them. Emer was able to slip out of the house unnoticed. She went to look for Hari but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually someone told her that he had been seen striding up the cliffs as if the devil was at his back.
“He looked angry,” the old man said. “As if he would like to kill someone for the pure pleasure of the thrust. I’d stay away from him.”
Emer nodded. Hari was going so fast, she had no chance of catching him anyway. She went back into the village, wondering if she should saddle a horse and ride after him. Then Freydis found her.
“Come with me,” she said. “I have been looking for you. Don’t go back to the longhouse. There’s trouble and you’re best out of it. There’s to be a fireship not a burial, as you thought.”
“How do you know that? I’ve not been told.”
“I had it from one of the men who was sent to lift Atli’s body aboard.”
“Then Rolf has got his own way.”
“In this, but not in the things that matter more to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rumour has it that the bulk of Atli’s fortune goes to Hari not Rolf.”
“Rumour is rarely truth.”
“Having seen Rolf’s face, I would wager that this rumour is right. He looks as if he would like to kill someone and everyone is avoiding him. Best if you do too, until you are sent for.”
“Hari’s in a temper too. He went up into the hills.”
“No wonder. Drifa said something about his mother and also about you which made him furious. I was serving ale at the time and I managed to overhear that much.”
“What did she say?”
“Hari stopped her before she spat out more than she’s said before. Beacan told her that he would listen to her concerns after the funeral. For now he expected everyone to speed Atli on his way with dignity and according to the law. Other issues would have to wait.”
Emer felt as if her apprehension would choke her. She could not cope with a confrontation with Drifa and she had no desire to encounter Rolf. So she automatically turned in the direction of the bathhouse. Freydis caught her arm and stopped her.
“Not there,” she whispered. “It’s the first place anyone will look for you.” She led the way to the small hut where Emer had dreamed her dreams. When they pushed the door ajar, Emer thought she could still smell the lingering sweetness of the powder she had used on the last occasion.
It must be my imagination, she thought, so many moons have passed.
“Stay as long as you can,” Freydis said. “I’ll bring you something to eat and drink. No one comes here unless anyone is sick. People will look for you eventually but if anyone asks me, I will say you suddenly felt ill and needed to rest.”
“That’s not far from the truth,” Emer admitted ruefully.
“I’ll fetch you when the ceremony is about to begin.”
“A little before that, please. We need to make sure Hari is there as he should be.”
“I’ll find out and tell you.”
In the event, Emer was dozing when Freydis rushed into the hut and clutched her. Emer woke with a frightened start.
“What is it?” she gasped.
“You were right. When I left you, I saw Rolf and three of his friends riding up the hill in the direction Hari took. I didn’t like the look of that, so I didn’t go fishing. I kept watch instead. Only two people returned, Rolf and Tostig.”
“What does it mean?”
“I didn’t know, so I went along the beach to where there is a way down the cliffs which leads to the path Hari used. The other man was there and he had a body beside him whose ha
nds and legs were tied.”
“Hari?”
“I couldn’t see, but I think so. Why should it be anyone else? There’s another thing…”
“What’s that?”
“I was watching the men, so I didn’t realise someone was watching me. I was coming back from the beach to tell you, when I heard footsteps. I stopped and they stopped. I hurried ahead and hid behind some rocks until the man caught up with me. It was Njall. I asked him why he was following me and he said he thought I’d been acting strangely. He’d seen the body on the beach like I did and asked me what was going on. I tried to put him off, saying that nothing was going on, but he didn’t believe me. I’ve never known Njall to be so persistent.” Freydis was crying now.
“He can’t string two words together unless it’s about bows or boats! You didn’t tell him?” Emer was aghast.
“I had to, he made me. He said he wouldn’t let me get into danger alone. I’m not sure he believes in your dream, but he won’t allow Hari to be murdered either. He can’t make an open fight of it, because at least half the men in the village would side with Rolf. Only a few of his own friends might help him. When I told him what we were going to do, he said he thought it was a good idea for the present. Then he said he’d come with us.” Freydis hurried over the last words and looked apprehensively at Emer.
“He didn’t!”
“He’s waiting at the skiff for us now. He fetched his weapons and he thinks there’ll be trouble if we’re found anywhere near the ceremony. We’ve got to go at once.”
“Where’s Rolf?”
“He was overseeing the preparation of the fireship. Atli’s body has already been taken aboard. Then they coated the timbers with pitch so it will burn more easily. Rolf has just ordered the beach cleared of people so his father can rest in peace until the sun begins to set.”
“Why should he do that? Atli will sleep peacefully soon enough.”
“We wondered about that too. Njall pretended to go fishing and rowed out far enough to be ignored, but he still saw what was going on. Rolf took a small skiff and rowed down around the cliff, where I had seen the trussed-up body. The other man was with him when he returned and the boat was much heavier than before. They came to the prow of the fireship, but Njall couldn’t see what they were doing.”