Islands in the Fog Page 17

"You troll! You promised you would find my daughter." Her shouting died beneath the laughter of Kjotve's crew.

  "Come now, I'm not all that bad. I've caught the bastard who stole her from you." He pointed at Ulfrik. "That ought to be worth a kiss at least."

  Before she could follow his finger, he seized her arm and yanked her to his mouth. She shrieked and finally landed a slap over his eye. But he jammed his face into hers and kissed her as the crew laughed and clapped.

  Ulfrik looked away, unable to watch without imagining Runa in the same position.

  Once Kjotve had bound Ingrid, he spun her around for his crew to leer and laugh. Ingrid's head dropped and her fight drained. Someone handed Kjotve a skin of mead, and he guzzled from it. Then he shouted for the ships to push off.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Toki's prayers to Thor and all the gods he could name went unanswered. By the second day at sea, he watched the storm forming, everyone did, knowing they were trapped in a landless expanse of water. Though the summer sun would not set until the heart of night, the sky had grown thick with darkness. Sparse rain drops pattered on the deck, driven slantwise by an increasing wind. Each drop felt like a punch to Toki. Without being issued orders, Thrand and Njall unstepped the mast and stowed the sail.

  "Einar, speak with me a moment." Toki beckoned him over. "This storm will be fierce. The angle of the wind ..."

  "Is bad," Einar finished for him. "We all know it. We have nothing to sacrifice to please the gods, but for ourselves."

  Toki put up his hand. "The gods seek their vengeance upon me alone. You and the others will be safe. But let's be sure of it. Tie the women to the rails and Gunnar too. Tie yourselves if there's enough rope left. Better to break an arm than drown."

  Einar nodded and started to turn, then paused. "Toki, don't make the gods work easier than it need be."

  He laughed, the sound awkward in the tense atmosphere. "I swear to you I will not."

  Einar and the others tied off the women and Gunnar. Halla and Dana were pale and trembling. The wind pulled their clothing tight and set their hair dancing. Halla looked at him blankly, in stunned horror. The sea had begun to churn and footing became treacherous. Njall stumbled toward the gunwales, grabbing the rail before falling overboard. Toki's heart pounded and everyone froze, as if to move would condemn him to the sea grave. But Njall landed on the deck.

  Runa shielded Gunnar from the wind by covering him within her cloak. She had the most sailing experience of any of the women. But Toki knew she had never experienced a storm like the one approaching. Lightning flashed and Thor's mighty roar boomed across the water. "Spare these people, Thor," he muttered under his breath. "I am the one who offended you."

  His arm grew heavy wrestling the tiller. Now the wind and rain had strengthened, gusts driving the ship. The current was not his to command, and rather than lose the steering board, he and Thrand stowed it beneath the deck where the sail lay. All that remained was to wait. He huddled beside Halla, drawing her trembling body close.

  At the heart of the black clouds, the wind and rain exploded. Raven's Talon crested its first swell, and crashed down the trough with a shudder. Halla screamed and her hands clawed Toki's sides. They all slid down the deck, seawater and rain drenching them. Their travel chests, heavy with treasure and gear, slid faster and one clipped Toki's side.

  "Hold tight to me," he shouted to Halla. The roar of the storm filled his ears. Her arms winded tighter and she cried. He endured what seemed hours of sliding over the deck as waves bashed the ship and thunder broke. He finally chanced to look up over Halla.

  Everyone was screaming in the darkness. Waves scoured the deck and pounded the sides. The wind and rain were the roars of angry Fate. But still Toki could hear voices screaming in the mayhem.

  "I don't want to die!"

  "Thor spare me!"

  "I can't hold on!"

  Their cries beat on Toki as hard as the waves flailed his ship. He balled up over Halla again, lashed with rain and doused in seawater. He had tied himself to the railing as well. His wrist burned and flowed with blood.

  A wave punched down on the deck, slamming them in cold water that turned all sound to the muddied gurgle of water.

  Toki was utterly powerless to help anyone, even himself. The gods had tired of him. He had defied them, and now they would fling him into the sea. Down to Rán's Bed at the bottom of the ocean. He was sure of it. But as the water sloshed away, he tossed his head back to check the others. Halla was screaming and sobbing, clenching herself against him.

  The storm had stolen all the light from the world. Only flashes of lightning revealed anything. In those stark scenes of black and white, he saw the lumps of bodies huddled to the deck. Runa's hair flowed out from beneath her hood, the only person Toki could identify. Everyone else had slid and shifted and were so bedraggled they all looked the same. But there were six of them, and Toki felt mild relief that no one had been lost yet.

  He embraced Halla tighter as they slid once more. The rain and wind sawed at him. Despite the futility of it, he again begged the gods to let them survive.

  Toki realized the rain had calmed and the ship no longer shuddered. Halla still clung to him, and she resisted as he tried to stand. He gently but firmly unlatched her arms. His sealskin cloak dumped water as he stood, his knees popping with the effort. He wiped water out of his eyes.

  The others were rousing as well. He heard Gunnar calling his mother's name beneath her cloak. Runa pulled back her own sealskin and peered out. The others began to follow. It was still night, the sky dark but for patches of deep blue twilight poking holes in the clouds. A dull bluish light filtered down to outline shapes on the deck. Lightning flashed, now in the distance, and the thunder followed long after. The sea was blood-dark and choppy, but no longer raked with storm winds.

  Toki smiled, then laughed. Raven's Talon had lost sections of railing and spots of decking had loosened. Otherwise, she had survived. He did not believe his old ship had come through such a storm without becoming swamped or capsized. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently thanked Thor for the mercy, grabbing the silver hammer hanging about his neck. Without looking, he knew the others were doing the same.

  "Is everyone alive?" he called out. "The storm has passed us."

  Einar was the first up, then pulling his mother to her feet. Gerdie sobbed and hugged him. Toki turned back to Halla and raised her up. "You are fine. See? We have survived."

  Halla's clear eyes were wide in terror and she merely looked at him, clumps of wet hair hanging over her face. Toki smiled, but she stood mute. He took a knife and cut the rope tether from her arm, then did the same for himself. Dana stood under her own power, and offered the tether for him to cut.

  Toki checked each person to reassure them and check for injuries. Gerdie's shoulder had twisted and her arm was numb. Otherwise, bruises and rope burns were the worst damages. Runa nodded wearily and waved him away when he tried to help with her tether. Instead he knelt down to Gunnar. His face was serious and stern. Toki held his breath a moment; he swore Ulfrik was looking at him from Gunnar's eyes.

  "You were a brave man," Toki said, bracing Gunnar's small shoulder.

  "No I wasn't. I cried."

  "We all did, Gunnar."

  "Father told me not to cry and to obey my mother. She told me not to cry, too."

  Toki shook his head, glanced up at Runa who seemed oblivious. "I think he'd make an exception this time. It's natural to be scared when death is near. Just don't let the fear rule you. You did well today. Now continue to take care of your mother. You'll do that, won't you?"

  Gunnar nodded with the sober solemnity of a child. Toki patted his head and stood, now addressing Runa. "You're not hurt?" She looked away and shook her head. Toki continued, "I've been in worse storms, but I didn't think this old ship could take it. She really took the beating well."

  Runa now fixed him in her gaze, her brow drawn tight. "If we had stayed in sight of land, we could've avoid
ed the storm. Now we are in the middle of the ocean, and you don't know where we are."

  "Of course I know where we are," he said, his stomach sinking. He had vague idea, but the storm had buffeted them for what seemed hours. Without stars in the sky or land on the horizon, he was only guessing.

  "You looked away when you said that," Runa said gently. "You could never hold my eyes when you lie, not since we were children."

  "Well I'm not lying now," he lied. "I marked our heading before the clouds covered the sky. When the sun is out again, I will pick up the course."

  Runa stared at him, her eyes flinty and her jaw flexing. He thought she would strike him, but her shoulders fell and she exhaled. "I hope so. I hope the gods didn't spare us only to have us die lost at sea."

  Gunnar suddenly interceded, pulling Runa's sopping skirt. "Uncle Toki is the best sailor in the world. Father said so. He can sail to the edge of the world and back. Don't worry, Mother."

  Toki laughed. "Listen to your son. When the sun is up, we will get a bearing and make up the lost time."

  A dim smile played on Runa's face. She lightly brushed Gunnar's smooth cheek and looked out at the black water.

  Toki focused everyone on recovery. They worked stiffly to clear debris and account for damage. At first the sea fought them, rocking Raven's Talon and making the slick deck treacherous. Soon the waters calmed and the sky lightened to an exhausted gray. The water flattened out like an iron pan beneath a heavy cover of clouds. After several hours there was nothing more to do. Without work to focus on, worry set in.

  He scanned the skies constantly, finding it gray and the sun hidden behind thick clouds. The other men began to do the same, and Toki realized how vexing it was to see them checking the skies. The women started to do the same, though he knew none of them understood navigation.

  "I don't know where we are. There's nothing to show us the way." Thrand looked expectantly at Toki; even his lazy eye seemed to pierce him.

  "These clouds won't last forever. Let's just give it time."

  "But the wind is blowing us somewhere."

  "Gods! Do you expect me to blow the ship back to shore myself? Give the weather some fucking time to change!"

  Toki's outburst drew everyone to him. He felt like a lone man in the center of an enemy attack. Faces were flat and expressionless. He felt lines of anger pulling down his cheeks. He shook his head, and rubbed his face briskly.

  "Toki, we are lost, aren't we?" Halla's voice was small and fragile, but it tinkled like a silver bell in the stillness of the sea. She stepped forward, her hair matted and her clothes clinging to her body. "Aren't we, Toki?"

  "We are not lost, but we might be off course. There's a difference. I just need the sun or a landmark to show me where I am." He smiled, but Halla did not. No one did. Toki felt his chest tighten. "Well, look for yourselves. Can anyone say where we are right now? It's all the same until the clouds break or we get some other sign. Listen, have you ever known clouds to last forever? They'll break, and then I'll reset the course."

  "We're lost," Halla said quietly. She hugged herself and looked at the others. Then her lip began to tremble and her voice grew shrill. "We are lost at sea. Like in the stories of men who sail away and never return. We are going to die out here."

  "Don't be foolish," Toki shouted. "You're just scared. Don't speak like we are doomed."

  "Foolish?" Halla's voice hit a new height, setting Toki's teeth on edge. "Then where are we? Where are we headed? You don't know! No one knows! We could be heading deeper into the ocean, and we've got nothing to eat nor enough water to drink. It's a disaster!"

  "Be quiet, Halla!" Toki stepped toward her, felt his hand itching. Halla reacted as if he had struck her. She leapt back, screeching, and then tears started to flow.

  "You led me away from home to kill me at sea! How could you? How could you think of hitting me?" Dana, her slave, grabbed her arm and whispered to her. But Halla tore her arm away. "I'm going to die, and for what? Nothing!"

  Toki did not see Runa coming. She flashed beside him, then she strode to Halla. Her blow thudded on Halla's face. She collapsed to the deck with a yelp, holding her cheek. Dana moved but Runa flashed her eyes at her, and Dana stood down. "Your screeching is not helping us either. Calm yourself and mind what you say. You are on this ship because you chose to run away with my brother. This is Fate, so accept it."

  Runa turned and faintly smiled at Toki, who stood bewildered. Runa then swept her gaze around to everyone. "Toki does not control the wind or the skies. But he is the best sailor any of you know. So respect him, listen to him. Let no one blame another for this. It is the work of the gods alone. If we are lost, we are lost. We must discover where we are and where we can find help. Until the sun or stars shine again, be silent." She looked down at Halla. "No one is interested in opinions. We all want facts, which can't be had until there's more to see than clouds."

  Runa massaged the back of the hand that had struck Halla. She smiled broadly and then rejoined Gunnar who stood behind Toki. As she brushed past him she spoke in a near-whisper. "It felt good to shut her up."

  Toki rubbed the back of his neck. He looked at his sister, with Gerdie at her side and patting her back. Then he looked at Halla, struggling to her feet with Dana helping her. The three men stood in between, faces red with embarrassment. Finally, Toki faced the sky. It had not changed.

  Another storm was brewing, but this one on the deck of Raven's Talon. He again sent his silent prayers to the gods, entreating them to calm this storm as well.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Signals passed from ship to ship as Kjotve revised his heading. The wind that had filled the sails now grew too strong and it lathered the ocean white. Ulfrik had enjoyed the reprieve from rowing. But now he and the other slaves had to slide their oars back into the water. The crack of a lash emphasized the orders, and he needed no more encouragement.

  "Black skies and rough seas," Ulfrik muttered to Snorri still seated before him. "Do you think the gods will drown us instead of letting Kjotve row us to death?"

  Snorri coughed a laugh. "My arms are going to fall off, and I think my back would feel better on a bed of knives."

  A crewman shouted at them to shut up. Thus far Kjotve seemed oblivious to the concentration of Ulfrik's men on his own ship. After sacking Hardar's homeland, Kjotve spent his time singing songs or drinking. He boasted of his victories and his battle prowess. He thought himself invincible.

  "Row, you dogs! Stay ahead of the storm," Kjotve hollered from his position at the tiller. His exhortations were unnecessary. One look at the mass of black clouds crawling over the water on legs of lightning and every man pulled hard to flee it.

  Still within the Faereyjar Islands, land was not far. Kjotve had sailed north after sacking Hardar. He sold his cargo of sheep to Jarl Hermind the Fat. He traded many slaves, mostly women or girls. Ulfrik remembered the jarl from the festival. He had loved his mead. If Ulfrik ever returned, he swore to drown Hermind in it.

  Eventually Kjotve located a beach he favored enough to pull ashore. Because Ulfrik and the other slaves were bound at the feet, they were spared the work of pulling the heavy ships up the shingle. A fat raindrop hit Ulfrik on the nose, and he instinctively drew his cloak tighter.

  Once the gangplanks thumped to the ground, men gathered spears and weapons, then ordered all the slaves disembark. Ulfrik assembled with others on the rocky beach. The land was flat and grassy, like every island in the Faereyjar. He hobbled over to Snorri as the crew organized themselves, Kjotve alternately laughing or roaring curses.

  "This could be our chance," he said, fighting with the wind to keep his voice low but audible. Snorri squinted at him, and he repeated himself. "The storm would be good cover for a chance at escape."

  "Are you expecting Thor to send lightning down on Kjotve?" Snorri shook his head, his gray hair lank and flat. "We're going to pull these ships overland; you know that. We can't stay by the water. Are you planning to carry one o
f these ships in your free hand while you escape?"

  Ulfrik paused and bit his lip. "I suppose that's true. But keep your eyes open for a chance. I might still form a plan. This storm feels like something sent to us by the gods."

  "Isn't every storm?"

  Ulfrik left Snorri to his defeatist thinking, instead focusing on finding a way to exploit the unexpected storm. If the island were large enough, they could escape overland. It would still be desperate, far from certain, but it would be a chance. Ulfrik lost himself in planning while the storm gathered force.

  As expected, they were forced to carry the ships onto higher land. But the storm moved fast and they soon realized that not all six ships could be ported to safety in time. So they carried away their treasures and supplies, abandoning two ships as far up the slope as possible. Ulfrik and his fellow slaves stood in the rain on shore as crewmen scurried around the beached ships and threw over whatever they could find. Ulfrik and another man had to carry a heavy box up the slope.

  The storm winds now flattened the grass and rain pelted their faces. Four of the six ships were safely up the slope, and Kjotve pulled his sails over these to make a place for his crew to shelter. The slaves, except for Ingrid, were to fend for themselves in the wind and rain. Lightning burned the sky white and a boom so terrible followed that men cried out. Kjotve hastily ordered a few unlucky spearmen to remain with the slaves, then ducked into the ship.

  "This is a bit of bad luck," Snorri screamed over howling wind. "I think we're going to die out here."

  But Ulfrik's heart beat with anticipation. Four hapless men were accepting sealskin cloaks from their fellows hiding on the ships. They clung to the hulls and faced their backs to the wind and rain. Four men. At least twenty other slaves, more than half of which were his own crew, clumped close to the ships. He smiled.

  "Snorri, the gods do love us."

  "What?" The wind drove at them, and voices died beneath its roar.

  "We're escaping tonight!"