Daughters of Northern Shores

by Joanne Bischof

  Haakon watched as Thor took up his shotgun from the table, opened the action, and fed a casing into the chamber, then three more into the magazine. Some time back, Thor had emptied brass casings of buckshot and refilled them with .20 gauge pumpkin slugs and black powder. Those iron balls were hefty enough to take down a rhino, and they kicked like a son of a gun, but if anybody could handle ammo like that, it was Thor. He slid a second handful into his pocket for reloading.

  The great room stretched all around them, an empty cavern that sighed and creaked as the night cooled. The second floor was empty, the house void of all its occupants except the five of them here. Thor and Haakon sat at the table. Jorgan paced slowly in front of the windows, where Jed and his men had once shattered the glass. Peter stood with his arms folded across his chest and a keen eye on the yard.

  Near the kitchen door, Al straddled a bench, silent as all the rest. Haakon watched as Cora’s son turned the trigger guard of a pistol slowly around his finger. Al’s eyes were trained on the floor between his boots. He’d survived a beating by the men they’d face this night, but it wasn’t revenge in his hunched posture, it was grave calm. A regard that his abusers didn’t deserve, yet one Al extended because he respected life. He also respected justice, which was why when Haakon had explained this plan through the note Peter delivered, Al vowed to be here this night.

  Two light taps sounded through the front door, then a familiar voice. Al looked to Haakon for direction, and Haakon gave a firm nod. The young man moved to the main entrance of this house, unbolted the door, and opened it. Orville stepped in with a rifle in hand. He tugged his hat off, spat a stream of tobacco juice back out the door, and asked what the holdup was.

  “We’re waitin’ on the sheriff.” Haakon leaned back in his chair.

  Thor thumbed toward the newcomer and inquired if his watch was wrong too.

  Haakon smirked as he pulled the last few bullets from the nearest container. He slipped the ammunition into his shirt pocket. This was no occasion for humor, but the quips loosened the tension in his shoulders. Worry was weighing on his mind like a brick. “Everyone squared away?”

  “As I live and breathe,” Orville assured. “Sibby got them all off without a hitch.”

  “She have enough for the tickets?”

  Orville adjusted the scope on his sniper rifle. “Said you gave her plenty. Train even left on time.”

  “Perfect.”

  Since Thor wouldn’t understand Orville from across the dim room, Haakon confirmed to his brother in Sign that his wife and child were safely along with the others.

  Thor nodded his gratitude.

  It had been the last of Haakon’s savings that Peter changed to bills at the bank for him. The same bills Sibby accepted that day in the meadow when Aven had witnessed the exchange. Four years of risking his neck at sea were now six train tickets. He wouldn’t have it any other way, and it brought immense relief that the women and children were well away and safe until this blew over. The orchestrating of it all had been a time, though. If it weren’t for Sibby’s assistance, Haakon didn’t know how he would have gotten them whisked away. Then there was Peter’s help, and Orville’s. Not to mention trying to lure the Sorrels to come this night.

  His brothers would have helped him work out the details, but it had seemed unwise for them to show such unity with the Sorrels watching on.

  Haakon hadn’t expected his brothers to side with his scheme so smoothly, but they had already concluded that something had to be done to see the Sorrels brought to justice. While Jorgan probably preferred more warning than half a day, he had confirmed his gratitude that Haakon had gotten the women and children well away from this place beforehand.

  Exhausted from so much preparation, Haakon ran a hand over his face and beard. He had needed to be in so many places at once, he’d scarcely slept flat for a week. He’d sent messages, procured supplies, and saw to just about everything else he could think of. He’d even sharpened the ax that was well hidden in the cidery should it come down to the need of it. He hoped not, but with men such as the Sorrels, there would be nothing predictable about this arrest. There couldn’t be too many weapons on hand, or too much preparation.

  As for the women, Haakon hadn’t wanted to be secretive with them, but their lack of knowledge was for the sole purpose of their protection. They knew nearly nothing of what was about to transpire, and that seemed safest, not to mention less panic inducing.

  Orville slid his hat back over his dark, stringy hair. “Where’s the sheriff?”

  Haakon consulted his newly adjusted pocket watch. “I don’t know. He said he’d be here by now.”

  “You sure he got your message?” Orville asked.

  “I delivered it myself,” Peter said. “Put it right into his hand before headin’ off for Al’s. Sheriff read it, and gave me one in return. Both Haakon and I looked it over, and he promised that him and his men would be here tonight.”

  “You don’t think they got lost, do you?” Jorgan asked.

  “Let’s hope not.” They needed them. “Sheriff knows how to find us and assured me they’d be here.” They were going to have to trust in that even though they were only six men strong just now and none of them trained soldiers as some of the Sorrels were.

  When the sheriff did arrive, the lawman would have the assurance of all six of them standing with him to bring Jed and Harlan to justice, and the men in this room would have the same surety of the law on their side. None of them meant to go to jail over this. Haakon tried not to think about what would happen if the sheriff didn’t show.

  Al shifted his boots. Jorgan coughed into his shoulder. Peter began to pace again.

  With most of an hour to go, Haakon decided that in the chance he were to be killed, this was a good time to get a few things off his chest.

  “Your wife kissed me the other day, Orville. On the cheek.”

  Sibby’s husband chuckled from his end of the room. “She told me. Said she felt sorry for you.”

  He didn’t doubt it. “And Jorgan, I really am sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about Whitetop Mountain.”

  Jorgan conceded with a nod. While no one but Haakon knew who Tate Kennedy was, Haakon had vowed that the family could not be safer than in the protection of his best sailing mate. Living at the southern end of the state in Grayson County, Tate had welcomed the message, and Al had brought back the guarantee that all was in order.

  Looking like patience was getting the better of him, Jorgan sighed as he sat. The sheriff was taking awfully long. Haakon trained his ears for any sound from outside. It had only been a few minutes since he’d last checked, which meant one of two things. Either the Sorrels would wait until two o’clock like Haakon indicated, or . . .

  “What are the chances they’ll come earlier?” Peter asked. “Ambush Thor and his know-it-all brother at the same time? Get to the cabin before you have a chance to split like you said you would. Or worse.” Peter’s gaze was steady. “What if they didn’t for one moment buy what you sold them but are coming to raise Cain anyway?”

  Thor squinted at Peter, but in the near dark wouldn’t understand him.

  Haakon leaned forward to better see the moon through the uppermost windows. “I’d say it’s a pretty good chance.” He checked the nearby boxes of ammunition to make sure they were emptied, then indicated to Thor in Sign what the others were speculating.

  Thor nodded his agreement.

  No matter what the Sorrels had or hadn’t been convinced of, the men would be coming to bring destruction for all and any who stood in their way. Instead of prowling around, they now had an open invitation. A quicker, cleaner blow. Riskier for everyone in this room but safer for the women and children. Safer even for those in this land and nation.

  “The sheriff ain’t here.” Al angled to the kitchen door. “But what’s to say they’re not already at the cabin?”

  Everyone looked to Haakon, and it humbled him. That his direction mattered. “I’m startin’ to t
hink we don’t have any more time to burn.” He pulled forward his leather pouch, loosened the drawstrings, and shook the contents onto the table. Half a dozen leaves floated down. A stimulant that would make him as fearsome as the berserkers who fought in the tales of old. An elite sect of warriors who knew no fear and no pain. And he had enough of a supply for everyone in this room should they wish.

  Feeling Thor’s gaze on him, Haakon stacked the brittle leaves, counting them as he’d done out of habit for too many years. While Thor wouldn’t know exactly what they were, it was plain enough how taken Haakon had become with the leaves. It was also plain as day that the man beside him had overcome a turbulent battle in and of itself; sobering had been no easy task for Thor, and yet he’d fixed his mind and heart on it, letting go of a crutch that he refused to pick back up to this day.

  Haakon turned the leaves in his fingers. Coca was an asset this night. A steady calm that would fortify a body for the challenge ahead, and he’d be a fool to assume the Sorrel men didn’t have their own kind of elixir on hand. Harlan probably had enough morphine in his system to blow through a brick wall and not even notice. But Haakon regarded his comrades in turn who didn’t rely on such an influence. He could suggest such, but he knew what they would say.

  All of them were watching him.

  All of them about to stand on courage that couldn’t be paid for.

  These men were prepared to draw only from valiant hearts. Was that not drive enough for a man? It should be, and for too long Haakon had forgotten that.

  Though it pained him, he folded the leaves but didn’t cram one in his cheek. Instead he rose. He could put them away, save them for trials to come, but with Cora’s words fresh in his heart, he ducked into the kitchen and grabbed the iron lifter. He wedged the tip beneath a round cover in the stove top and raised the lid to the glow of coals beneath. He wanted to know what the road was like that she spoke of. Where the view was fine and where freedom was there for the taking.

  His cheek throbbed for the tonic, but Haakon dropped the leaves in.

  They smoldered and blackened. The faintest hint of their potency wafted to his nose, then they and their scent were gone. The only thing in his pouch now was the Word of God and the drawing by a little boy who didn’t know he was being fought for across the sea. For a home—this land—that Haakon longed to share.

  Shooting out a slow sigh, Haakon replaced the iron cover and returned to the other room. “Well, I think it’s time. The sheriff will show, and if he’s late, we’ll just have to stall our friendly neighbors some.” He pointed at Al and then Peter. “You two head through the grove along the east of the clearing. Stay low and keep a cover on the yard and cabin. Nobody fire unless you have to. We’re only aimin’ to stall them. Watch the main house, too, for any trouble coming this way. Sound an alarm if need be.”

  He shifted toward the others. “Jorgan and Orville, you two go around by the north end and do the same.” Orville with his sniper rifle could cover them from a massive distance from the safety of the far ridge. Jorgan knew the lay of the land, so the pair would be better together.

  Haakon’s gaze locked with Thor’s. “You and I will go to the cabin.” The most dangerous of locations.

  Thor gave a firm nod.

  If this was a trap, it only seemed right that the pair of them be the ones to walk into it. It was he and Thor who had fueled this war at their own times. Everyone else was just along for the ride.

  Thor’s chair creaked as he stood. Orville followed suit.

  Turning some, Thor aimed a finger at Al, who promised to be careful. Thor gave Peter a silent appeal as well.

  “I’ll stick to the plan,” Peter promised.

  Though he scarcely knew Orville from Adam, Thor gave him a nod of comradery.

  Orville rested the sniper rifle on his shoulder. “Sibby’s menfolk tormented her enough in this life, and I’ll do all I can to help y’all get them behind bars.” He dropped Haakon’s coins on the table and stepped back.

  “That’s yours to keep,” Haakon insisted.

  Shaking his head, Orville pushed them farther away. Thor confirmed his appreciation. Haakon did too. Brow furrowed, Thor stepped to Haakon, gripped the back of his head, and pressed their foreheads together. Thor leveled him with a warning look.

  “I won’t do anything stupid,” Haakon promised.

  Thor nodded. He didn’t do the same to Jorgan because there was only one fool-headed brother in this family. Instead, he clamped a hand on Jorgan’s shoulder, gave a reassuring squeeze, then started through the kitchen.

  The floorboards groaned beneath Thor’s weight as he aimed for the door. His boots moved solidly over the floor—a sound that announced him wherever he went and one never tempered. Not only was Thor unable to hear himself but he had no cause to sneak around. He walked without reservation and lived life with the utmost integrity to justify such. People knew when he was coming, and it was right that way. Haakon pitied the men who would face him this night. If it was a fight with Thor they wanted, it was a fight they were going to get, and never again would Haakon fuel a doubt that he wouldn’t be there to stand beside him.

  THIRTY-THREE

  THOR OPENED THE DOOR AND, BEFORE HE finished crossing the front porch, smelled smoke. He signed to Haakon to see if he noticed it as well, but his brother shook his head. The scent had to be faint to normal senses, though that didn’t ease Thor’s worry. This wasn’t oak, which they stocked beside the kitchen stove. This was pitchy. Something more like pine.

  Haakon’s cabin was built of pine.

  Ducking low, Thor hurried toward the trees that divided the two plots of land. Haakon followed at his side. Peter and Al broke off, heading north and keeping to the eastern side of the clearing while Orville and Jorgan aimed farther still to take cover among the trees skirting the graveyard. The moon was waning but offered enough light to see by, casting dusky shadows across the open meadow. Thor neared it in stride with his brother, and it was like moving through a dream as they stepped low through the narrow stretch of woods.

  Haakon crouched down just short of the clearing and Thor saw the glow of flames lighting the upper floor of the cabin.

  No.

  Smoke leaked from the cracks in the chinking and walls. It trickled from the frames of the closed upper window, a telltale sign that it had just begun. Haakon’s face was drawn in despair. The Sorrels retaliation lashed as yellow flames against the nearest panes of glass.

  Thor scanned the open yard where two of Jed’s men stood, watching the spectacle. With another man charging away from the smoking structure, it made three. Neither appeared to be Harlan nor Jed, so their count was higher—but to what number, he wasn’t sure. Haakon had suspected that there were six or seven of them, but no one knew for sure.

  Thor slung the strap of his shotgun over one shoulder and, keeping low, started forward. Haakon groped at his arm for him to stop, barely getting hold as Thor yanked free. They had to get that fire out. Thor gripped his brother by the shirt front and with his other hand pointed toward the well.

  Haakon shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”

  But Thor knew otherwise. That cabin was everything to Haakon. And not at risk of a life, but so close was the cabin to the trees that ambled alongside the great house and cidery that embers could just as soon have the entire farm up in smoke. All reason enough for Thor to survey the dark. Sensing it clear, he rushed to the back side of the cabin and paced along the nearest wall. A few yards off stood the old well. Smoke hazed the air around him, and he was just nabbing two buckets from the back stoop calculating the steps to water when a bullet whizzed into the sidewall. Thor dropped, and needing to get to water quick, he rushed for the well, crashing behind the low stone wall just as another shot slammed past.

  This wasn’t happening.

  Haakon chambered a bullet, freed the safety, and ran for the cabin, keeping as low as Thor had and following the same path. At the end of the structure, Haakon sank to a knee a
nd pressed his back flat to the wall. Thor was still there on the other side of the well and, so far as Haakon knew, hadn’t been hit. Shooting out a breath, he pressed his trigger finger into place and glanced around the side of the house. A rifle blasted through the night, and he slammed back against the wall as bits of it shattered. Alright, then. This was how it was gonna go.

  What he wouldn’t give to be able to call out for Thor to make sure he wasn’t hit. Since hollering in that direction was pointless, he’d try elsewhere.

  “You don’t want to do this!” Haakon shouted toward the meadow, where at least one of Jed’s men was hunkered down in the tall grasses. The others had dispersed to a more distant reach, but he didn’t know where.

  Two rounds cracked into the side of the cabin.

  Haakon pressed the stock of his Winchester to his shoulder, hitched in a breath, and angled around the corner of the building. He fired, chambered, and fired again before leaning back out of range. He tried to think of how long ago the fire had been set loose upstairs. Five minutes . . . maybe a few more? There wasn’t much fuel up there, but with the smoke still in the air, it had to have reached the walls by now. He and Thor didn’t have much more time, and the Sorrels knew that.

  When more shots slammed his way, Haakon stepped from behind the house and fired three of his own. A Sorrel volleyed just as many, and when it ceased, Haakon leaned back around and fired until his magazine clicked empty. Something had hit somebody because he could hear a man groaning. He didn’t know who he’d struck, and it was a sobering grief that Peter’s father could be one of the men out there, falling in plain sight of Peter himself. But Harlan’s son was all in and not only standing up for the safety of these lands but for his ma and sisters. Cora’s family too.