“I always welcome that,” Leif said. He was not often far from his father’s ear, and Ragna did not like hearing of their homeland; it made him irritable. Leif thought it was wise to stay updated on the latest politics. All his father cared about was learning of wealth transported by sea.
Bo opened the gated fence for them to enter and led them across the land to his longhouse, a building Leif had been in many times before. The aroma of fish filled the air as a man and woman were busy filleting their catch of the day with sharpened knives, then tying them onto racks. A little girl with long crimson hair clung to her mother’s leg as the woman was hard at work.
Bo asked over his shoulder, “How about your friend, Agnar? Does he come again?”
“He was required to stay with my father, but I know he is eager to return.” Leif scanned the area for the woman his friend was saving up to marry. He knew Agnar would want to know if she was still well and available, but he did not see her.
Leif and Eilish were ushered into the darkened confines of the home. The smell of the hearth fire and curdled milk filled the hall. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light. A beam of light came in from the opening in the ceiling, the only place for fresh air to enter and smoke to exit. On either side of the room and along its length were deep wooden benches used for sitting and sleeping. Upon one of them, a young boy lay with furs covering his body. His brow appeared slick with sweat.
Bo gestured toward the child. “The sun should be out, drying the land, but the rains will not stop. It makes everything spoil, including my son’s health. He will not rise to help on the fishing boat.”
Eilish stepped closer, looking to Leif with a strained expression. She frowned before asking under her breath in a husky voice, “What is the matter with him?”
Leif cleared his throat, prepared to ask her question, but Bo interrupted him. “I understand what the Gael asks. Why does he wish to know?”
“This is Aiden,” Leif answered. “He is a healer. If he can help, he will.”
Bo’s bushy eyebrows lifted as he appraised Eilish for a moment. He spoke slowly, appearing uncertain of the Gaelic words. “The boy is hot and will not eat.”
Eilish approached the boy and squatted beside him. Her hand brushed against his forehead, then she lifted his chin. She whispered something and smiled before opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. The child blinked and copied her. She peered inside.
“Will I be safe foraging?” Eilish asked over her shoulder.
“I will send my cousin, Frigg, with you.” Bo got up and moved out of sight into a storage room off from the hall. When he returned, a blond woman with free-flowing hair was by his side. He introduced them in haste. “This is Aiden, Leif’s healer thrall. Help him find what he needs.”
Frigg looked to Leif with a hopeful expression as Eilish asked their host, “Is there a bog nearby?”
The fisherman pointed and said, “In the highlands.”
Eilish stood up and turned to leave with Frigg just behind. He watched them hunch down to exit through the wooden door.
“Useful to have a healer with you,” Bo commented. “Could have used him last winter when Eira and her barn died in childbirth.”
“I am sorry your kin have gone. We only just acquired the thrall in Duiblinn, or I would have sent him to you.”
A woman entered the longhouse and went to a room off from the main hall. Leif recognized her. She was Bo’s wife. When she returned, she held out a wooden cup filled with milk. He accepted it from her. “Thakka.”
“We are short of ale since last harvest’s barley spoiled from mold.” Bo sat back on the bench beside his son and gestured to the opposite wall. Leif took a seat as his host continued to speak. “We never want for more fish. Odin has graced us with a plethora from the sea, but the land scoffs at us. I am glad for traders who stop, otherwise we would not have variety.”
Leif took a sip of milk and nodded. “You are in a good place for that. Have you seen many visitors this season?”
Bo gazed at his son, who had closed his eyes and appeared to be in a deep sleep. “A few. They brought with them the sickness my boy suffers from.”
Leif took his turn glancing at the sick child, unsure if he should be concerned for his own well-being. His host seemed eager to change the subject to worldly gossip, instead of discussing the fate of his boy. Bo said, “Have you heard old King Harald Fairhair gets closer to eighty every year, and his son Eric the Bloodaxe waits for his death so that he may reign?”
Leif asked, “What of his youngest son, Håkon Adalsteinsfostre? Does he still live with King Athelstan in England?”
“He does and is safe for now.” Bo eagerly swayed the discussion toward the drama of the northern regions while giving furtive glances to his sleeping son.
Frigg quietly led the way, so it did not take them long to find the boggy highlands. Eilish spotted the small yellow flowers growing about the puddles.
“There,” she muttered, leaving the woman standing on a hillock as she went to collect what she needed. Light rain touched her hair, creating constant moisture on her skin and clothes. As she leaned down to pinch off enough sprigs for the tea, she breathed in its green scent deeply. Eilish returned as soon as she had enough.
She thought of Leif’s request that he do all the talking and bitterly held her tongue. Eilish did not think herself above the stature of a man, but it was her spirited nature that resented him telling her so. She might have questioned the quiet woman about her life on these rainy shores.
Eilish was surprised when the lady did speak. Not that she said a word to her, but because of the question she asked. “Do you know Agnar?”
“Yes, he seems a good sort of man, though his skin is painted.”
Frigg tried to hide her smile as she looked away, but Eilish noticed her curious behavior. The woman returned her gaze, having gained composure. “Is he with you?”
Eilish shook her head. “He is not, but I just left his side not more than a week ago.”
She felt Frigg’s disappointment as they came back down into the shallow valley. Eilish found the same building she’d been led into before and lifted the latch to go inside.
The darkness welcomed them back, and they stepped into the hall. With the sprigs of leaves in her hands, she asked their host for hot water. A woman was now in the room too, and it was she who poured some clear liquid into a cup from a clay pot sitting on some stones at the hearth and handed it to Eilish.
She plucked the dark teardrop-shaped leaves from their stems, broke them in half and dropped them in the steaming water. Their sweet smell filled her nostrils. She waited until they began to sink in the liquid before she carried the cup to the little boy’s side.
“Can he wake?” she asked his father, who sat beside him. “He should drink this so he stops sweating.”
The man exchanged a nervous glance with the woman in the hall and proceeded to shake his sleeping son. The child’s eyelids fluttered open, and the boy stared up in a bleary daze. Bo took the cup from Eilish and lifted it to the little one’s lips.
“How long must we wait?” the woman asked.
Eilish was careful in promising any results. “If it works on his sickness, by evening meal.”
It was an uncomfortable wait filled with awkward conversation between the men. She could not understand most of their words, but that was all the better. She would not have been able to focus on them anyway, as she was too curious about Frigg standing at the end of the hall.
The plant she’d found in the bog was one she’d used before with her father’s guidance. Many people slipped it in their ale to add flavoring, but she’d been instructed to use it to cool a flushed body or soothe an upset stomach. She hoped it would do both for the boy.
The day wore on. It was nearing night meal when she ventured to feel the child’s forehead. The blistering heat she’d detected earlier had decreased, and the boy looked at her with clear eyes for the first time. She asked
while gesturing to her mouth, “Are you hungry?”
Bo asked the question in their own tongue, and the child nodded. Smiles broke out around the room, and they only grew larger as he took a bite of dried fish that was offered by his mother.
Eilish was relieved that the tea had helped, but she didn’t understand how the illness had occurred. There weren’t many sicknesses like this from her homeland.
“Is he the only one who fell ill?”
The fisherman rubbed his beard and answered, “Yes, he is.”
“You are lucky,” Eilish answered. “Do you know this plant?”
Bo and his wife exchanged glances and nodded.
“If any more fall ill like your son, do as I have done for him.”
“I thank you,” the woman answered with a smile, clearly happy for good news.
Bo turned to Leif and said, “One of the traders who passed through had his eye on Frigg. It would be unwise of me to turn away any offers of marriage.”
Leif shook his head and answered, “I understand. It has been a prosperous year for some. You may have an offer sooner than you think.”
The rest of the evening was filled with merriment from the family upon receiving their son from the dark place he had dwelled over the course of his illness. Eilish was content not to lie on the ship or the wet, rocky shore as she had done since she’d joined Ragna’s crew. She sat beside Leif on the bench, waiting for dreams to come, and watched his sleeping form in the firelight. A very strange turn of events had occurred, and she found herself quite attached to him. More than she ever would have thought.
She was filled with nervous energy as they set sail in the morning. The promise of arriving at Leif’s home loomed ahead of them. The winds were at their backs as they ventured west, away from the cloud-covered sun. She did not mind bailing water from the empty cargo hold, for soon she would remain on land, for a time at least.
Most of the morning had passed when Rúni called out, pointing to a long dark smudge on the horizon. The overcast skies had grown darker and the winds more turbulent. The sail thundered while it snapped about.
Eilish noticed Leif casting nervous glances behind them as they grew closer to the stretch of land. His eyes scanned the choppy seas, oblivious of Cormacc getting sick over the edge of the ship. She realized she had stopped bailing water, so she busied herself, not wanting to be the reason for capsizing the boat so close to shore. The cargo hold continued to seep seawater as the waves grew more violent.
When they sailed closer to the loamy coast, she realized it was not a continuous span of land, but a stretch of islands and lochs. Rúni’s stout body held fast to the side rudder, and Leif shouted to the crew through the whistling gale, “We near home, and I need all hands on deck. Cormacc, we need you steady to help take down the sails. Can I rely on you?”
The thrall’s hands were white from gripping the edge so tight, but he pushed himself upright with his feet set wide apart and nodded. Eilish pulled herself out from the cargo hold and tossed the bailer into the sloshing water in the hull. Her own stomach threatened to empty itself, but she distracted herself by staring at the moving coastline ahead.
They began to sail between two bodies of land. Pale shapes appeared in the ocean, and fear made her throat tighten. Peering through the splashing surf, she realized it wasn’t a god or sea monster, but the shallows. A series of rocky reefs moved past their boat when Leif shouted, “Drop the sail!”
Every man but Rúni, who still clutched the side rudder, moved in practiced unison, untying the rigging that held up the yard and sail. It began to lower and flap in the wind. Birger pulled the bracing so the precious woolen sail wouldn’t catch in the sea, and Ronan secured both the yard and sail to the stanchion.
“Rowers!” Leif called, hurrying to distribute oars to the bow oar holes.
Cormacc surprised Eilish. His seasickness had been all but forgotten as he joined Ronan, Birger and Leif at the front of the ship. There was no time to wrestle with chests to sit on, so the men stood while they lifted, dropped and pulled their oars through the sea. Raindrops began to spatter their faces and backs.
Leif’s deep rhythmic chanting mixed with the wind as Eilish watched them move toward a narrow opening on the coast. Once they entered the water-filled channel, the turbulence of the open sea was left behind. She looked at the grassy terrain that swept away to the hills ahead of them. Scant trees scattered the shoreline, spotted with rocks and scrub.
The loch twisted with the roll of the land, and the men continued to row them farther inland until they moved beyond a grassy peninsula to a sandy bay. Above the banks was a stone and wooden structure with the widest doorframe she’d ever seen.
She realized that Leif had stopped singing and rowing. The others paused as well. The only sound she heard was the wind whistling over the hills and water. The ship floated slowly toward the shallow beach until its keel scraped along the sandy shallows, stopping them from moving any farther.
Eilish swallowed as she looked around. From the stern, she heard Rúni shout words she couldn’t understand. Without warning, a heavy slap on her backside almost knocked her over. She tried to keep a surprised yelp from escaping her lips. Rúni’s hot breath touched her rain-laden cheek and neck as he snarled something in her ear. She imagined the threat he might have uttered and told herself to stand strong, to be fearless. Her jaw tightened as she waited for him to brush past her and climb overboard. She watched him splash up the beach to the grassy meadows and tried to keep herself from shaking.
Something clamored in her chest like her parts had come loose. Eilish pinched her eyes shut for a moment to compose herself. No man had ever touched her like that before, not even her father when she’d misbehaved as a child. Shame turned to anger, and she began to understand just what Leif had been trying to protect her from.
She wondered if she would ever exist without fear. When Leif had suggested the only way for her to escape and find freedom was to make people think she had drowned, it had made sense. Just like it had made sense to learn how to swim, despite her misgivings. The details surrounding Leif’s plan were unclear to her, but she was motivated more than ever to leave this place behind.
Chapter 11
“We can bring the ship on land tomorrow,” Rúni called over his shoulder to Leif, who was trying to drag the boat farther onto the beach with Birger’s help. “I must sate my appetite.”
Leif panted and watched him go, knowing his uncle was not referring to drinking ale or eating fresh stew. It wasn’t entirely unexpected to find himself alone with the thralls, unloading the ship. He might have been motivated to run to his father’s longhouse if he had someone waiting for him, but he did not. Agnar had been kept by Ragna’s side, and he had no living family he cared about.
Leif glanced at Eilish, standing near the prow of the boat as she watched Rúni walk over the grassy fields from under her shaggy mane. Leif had noticed his uncle’s actions before he’d disembarked as well as the words that had been snarled at her. Rigid from his kin’s touch, she seemed ready to flee that very moment.
Although he wanted to see her safe from his family, the thought of being apart from her made him anxious. He could not send her out alone to fend for herself. That would likely have the same results as if she remained in the South Isles with his kin, and the only person he would trust her with would not arrive for another week.
The beginnings of the plan he’d come up with earlier in their travels began to solidify in his mind. He’d had time to think on it while they’d sailed westward that morning and all through the night when he’d bedded down at Bo’s farmstead, and he was eager to discuss it with Eilish.
Leif set a wooden chest on the beach and went to grab the next item handed off of the ship. While he’d been deep in thought, they’d unloaded nearly the entire boat. He fought the urge to give Eilish his hand to help her over the gunwale and was pleased instead to watch her leap out as if she’d been doing it all her life.
W
ith her leather hudfat rolled under her arm, she walked up to him. He leaned down to lift the chest with his belongings and called to the thralls, “Take what you can carry—you deserve a proper meal. I will take you home.”
The hike over the hillside was made longer from the weight of their cargo, but at least the poor weather had let up, and the drizzling rains stopped. Gray clouds paved the skies in a dark mantle, one the sun was unable to breach. Smoke curled into the sky from a long grassy mound—the smell of home. The closer they got, the more visible the stone base became, along with other outbuildings constructed of wood and stone that clustered at the base of the ridge.
He saw the thralls scan the landscape, taking in their new home, but he knew that some of them would not live to make it their own. Leif sighed and led them on to the great longhouse. The few thralls that were left behind to tend the farm were out to welcome them back.
“Happy and healthy, son of Ragna!” one of the men called.
Leif smiled and nodded as he walked up to a high-peaked doorway at one end of the large building. An older woman wearing a blue dress and a dirty undyed smock hurried to lift the latch for him. The carved door swung out, and he hunched to step through into the murky dark.
This place had all of the appearances of a chieftain’s home. It was even larger and more impressive than the farm they had left in their homeland. Ragna had taken great pleasure having it built with the crew of men he’d bought after their first summer raiding the ocean. His father was proud of this place, but every time Leif came back to it, he was only reminded of the home that had been left behind. And the woman who’d been left behind: his mother.
It had been bred in him to always strive for more, but Ragna’s embodiment of that quality mixed with his self-admiration and ruthlessness made Leif crave a simple life instead. He did not covet riches and wealth. He did not want to walk into a home filled with people he’d bought who were forced to serve him. He wished to be surrounded by family and kinsmen who had pledged themselves to him and each other, to live by the same standards of honor.
Tides (Time of Myths: Shapeshifter Sagas Book 3) Page 13