Rune to Ruin, page 29
I crossed my arms. I thought I knew where the story was going, and it would not be pleasant.
“He used the boy to talk to the monks here. They were harmless to him and paid good fees to build and maintain this monastery when no one else would come to this part of the island. And the man did like collecting money. He also used the boy to his liking, as you can imagine such a man might do.”
“Were his men not disgusted at this behavior?”
“His men were paid and they had their responsibilities: Go here, fight there, bring back thralls. Did they know of the behavior? Probably most of them. But their first priority was to earn money, and sticking one’s nose into another’s business is asking for trouble rather than money. Especially when the other person is a powerful man.”
“Is that the whole story?” I asked as Tafi had gone quiet for some time.
He took another breath before continuing. “In weaves another story. There was once a fool who took money from the man to be one of his champions. This was years before the boy arrived. And the champion had amassed a great deal of treasure through the years because he was a good fighter and knew very well to not stick his nose into business not his own. He even liked the man, as he seemed a wise and cunning sort. So he was also very protective of the man’s daughter.”
Blood rushed to my face. I no longer knew what was coming, but I feared it nevertheless.
“The man’s daughter was beautiful in body and mind. The champion liked her very much and looked forward to winters in the hall when he would not be sent out to capture thralls. She was like family to him, since he knew little of his own family. One winter, the champion returned and found she had left. He inquired about her whereabouts, but no one would speak of her. The champion was puzzled about this.”
I swallowed hard. “The champion knew nothing.”
And here, Tafi’s voice rose for the only time I heard it, a shout that shook the stone walls around us. “The champion knew nothing because he chose not to look!”
This was not going as expected. Tafi did not continue to shout, but his tone thrummed with an intensity that volume alone could not achieve.
“But the champion’s ignorance was so deep and desperate that he could not stop asking. One day, the lord yelled at his champion for asking. And one day, a tearful boy called the champion aside and told him stories. Stories that could not possibly be true.
“The champion’s spirit broke, and he looked away. Away and too deep into his mead horn. Only when he had become too useless to employ any longer did he find his way out of it and into this place. And the man your friend knew, Candidus, picked up what was left of him.”
I tried to swallow and failed a few times before succeeding. So Tafi had been one of Varg’s champions and had come to regret it. I nodded in understanding, but that left at least one other question. “How did the boy get here?”
Tafi continued as if the great wave of fury had passed, much to his relief. “I bought his freedom. Candidus’ idea. I had some money left, and Varg was less entertained by him than he had been in the past, so it worked. There are no thralls here, just as there are none on your ship. So now you know more of the story of Varg’s home, and what it is to call this place home. Some are here for forgiveness for what they failed to do as much as what they did.”
“So Efraim forgave you?”
“I do not ask that from him. Varg’s daughter, I cannot ask for forgiveness because she is gone. Candidus forgave me. That is the way of the White Christ. The story cannot end there because I will never forgive myself for things undone. My inaction cannot be taken back, and I will carry the burden of it until I die. But until that time, I create another story, and that story is how Efraim and a few others may heal here, in a place of peace.
“I know what he said is offensive to you. It is not your way. It is not even my way, if I am honest, but I choose to walk this path in spite of my nature. This is why Candidus asked me to take over for him despite my junior station.”
“Because he knew you were loyal?”
“Because he knew I would not turn away from these men, even at the cost of my life.”
“You could have taken up arms with us.”
Tafi shook his head. “I swore an oath not to. A man cannot seek both forgiveness and revenge.”
“There is little need for Efraim to forgive Varg. As I see it, he should be happy he contributed to Varg’s demise.”
“That is as you see it,” said Tafi. “But not as he does. And it is his decision how to deal with his pain, not yours. You know nothing of it.”
He thought this ended our conversation, and I considered this might be the best way to leave it. “Wait,” I said. “There is a story I might tell, but you would need to guard it with your life.”
“A story about what?”
“Valborg.” That got the big man’s attention. “I know. You never mentioned her name, yet I know it. And I knew her.”
And though I had not told anyone what I had seen of her, I told Tafi the story from the burning hall to her final dawn. I told him what I had felt, though I disliked even thinking about it. I told him how I’d made a show of Varg’s torture and how I’d heard a laugh I could not place.
“Did it give you peace?” he asked when I had finished.
“I slept better last night than I have in months.”
“Maybe that is true now,” said Tafi, “but do not think too quickly that others should be as you are. I know the nightmares you speak of. They are a difficult thing and take a long time to deal with. Perhaps Efraim will feel differently if you leave here and come back without demands. For now, go out and make more of your story. I think you will fight for something more important than revenge before your story is finished.”
Chapter 30
No Fish Is an Island
I had my mind on Tafi’s story as we boarded the Sea Squirrel the next day. I was still not sure what to think of it. My mind had difficulty getting off the path it was on. And the path it was on marched right from “you will need every weapon against Alfhild” to “the codex is a weapon, but you can’t use it.” There would be other weapons, of course, but I hated that I did not have the knowledge to use this one.
Maybe I hated knowing Tafi had been right even more.
Kraki did not outright say he refused to sail to Uppsala to treat with King Athils. Not that I heard, anyway. But he and Haldor announced at our departure from Gotland that we would skip Uppsala in favor of bringing the wine to Arrow-Odd. We might need a favor or information from him and were far more likely to get it after delivering an expensive gift. Ulf grumbled at failing to get good value for it, but it was on his own advice we would tread carefully with Odd, so he soon stopped complaining.
It was a week of sailing just to reach the Gulf of Suomi. It was not a foreboding body of water to sail through. You didn’t get a chill that you were being watched or that trolls were about to set upon you. But the further we went, the closer we were to the Rus, and they were strong in those waters.
The ‘land of lakes’ Joni spoke of might be accurate, but we were not there yet. First, it was the land of islands along the coast as we sailed. The more isolated the island, the better for our purposes. Fireless nights were cold, but cold was better than attracting potential raiders. Spending nights at sea was a possibility, but also dangerous in case we might run aground. So island hopping it was.
That made for early mornings and late evenings as the sun lingered in the sky. Navigating those islands meant a lot more rowing than sailing. I tired of the rowing quicker than most but did my best not to mention it.
One day well into our journey, I felt a great deal of relief when Hemming spied a small island that looked good to him one afternoon. It was well away from the sharp rocks that would wreck our ship. It was high enough out of the water to be safe but not so steep we would have trouble pulling the boat up its banks.
Even better, we saw the island had heather growing all over it. The bright purple flowers were a friendly sign. So friendly that we opted to stop there early, even though some daylight was left for rowing. Good spots did not appear everywhere, after all.
Heather or not, it was our practice to scout a place out before fully disembarking. The stem of the ship glided onto a gentle upward slope and stuck there. Haldor leaped down first and sloshed through the remaining shallow water before he met dry land. Hemming was right behind him.
“Now what?” I asked Magnus, restless as I was.
“Seems very fortunate,” he said through a yawn. “Fortunate things are often traps. Also, the landing site could be rough, and we might need to row to another side. Just be patient!” He finished with a stretch and another yawn.
Rowing made me antsy. It left me tired but feeling as though I had not done anything all day. Then, we would set up, eat, sleep, and repeat the process the next day. The only break from this was when we landed with a little time to spare, and I could explore a small area near our encampment. Or bother Ketill about runic wisdom, which rarely worked. Or try to pry more secrets out of Huld, which never worked.
“I could go help them,” I said.
“Relax! Why don’t you think of a song to play?”
But I could not relax that day. Here was dry land. It was time to get off my sea chest and walk around and do something. Anything that did not involve sitting.
At the stern of the ship, Kraki stretched his back and shoulders. That many days as a steersman was no trifling thing, even for him. On either side of him sat Ketill and Huld, neither of whom rowed. Ketill stirred, stood, and popped various joints with alarming volume. The stiffness of life on a ship made me wonder how these men found the strength to fight battles at sea. Huld remained slumped against the gunwale, hood pulled over her head.
“Are you asleep, Huld?” I asked.
She snorted and coughed a little.
“I said, are you asleep?”
“Ugh,” she said. “Any man who asks such a question loud enough makes his own death prophecy come to be.”
“Or woman,” Ketill added, grinning.
“It’s always a man,” replied the vǫlva. She spoke her last word with a long groan, pulling her hood further over her face. I had never taken her as the seasick type, but perhaps the waves wear us all down eventually.
“Can you make anything with heather?” I asked, unable to keep the nervous energy out of my voice.
“I can use it to make a tonic for diarrhea,” she said. “But not for diarrhea of the mouth, unfortunately.”
Ketill went from grin to laughter, as did some of the others listening. I did not care.
“If you are feeling unwell, I will gather it for you,” I said.
Huld’s still-hooded face came down to fix me with an eyeless stare. “Gather it where?” she asked as if I were an innocent but still annoying child.
“It’s all over the island,” I said. “Take a look.”
“I may be old, skald, but my nose is a keen one. If it were all over the island,” she said as she pulled back her hood and then stopped. She could plainly see over the edge of the gunwale but stood up for a better view. “I would have smelled it already.”
Ketill’s smile disappeared, his look replaced by wide-eyed recognition. “Shit,” he said. Then it was “Shit shit shit!” as he ran up the deck to the fore. “Back to the ship!” he shouted over the prow. “Back to the ship now!”
I stood and followed him, wondering what could be wrong. Was this heather some secret plant that was actually poisonous? Did he suddenly recognize the markings of an ill-omened burial mound?
“What is wrong here?” I asked.
“The runes!” he said, gesturing as if he had too many words to say and not enough time to say them. “Sea monsters can’t find us!”
“Well done, then!” I said, even more confused. “No sea monsters, then.”
“Except this one!” he said and turned back to Haldor and Hemming, shouting at them to get back to the ship.
Something was indeed amiss, and we all felt the first jolt through the ship.
“Surt’s flaming ballsack!” said Magnus. “It was a trap?”
Haldor and Hemming felt it too. A great shudder, as if the earth beneath the ship had moved. It had moved, and it was not earth. Both men stumbled, and then they heeded Ketill’s call. Haldor was behind the tracker but gaining on him with long, powerful strides.
“Ready to push off!” said Ketill.
“Where is it?” I demanded, looking over the starboard side. “How did it find us with your runes carved onto the ship? Did you miss an oar?”
“It is beneath us,” Ketill shouted back. “And it never found us. We found it and rowed right onto its back!”
The ship’s fore lowered as the island shivered. Haldor and Hemming were close but already running through inches of water.
The deck was chaos. Kraki was in charge but remained at the stern, where he would be most needed in just a few moments. Some of the crew stood up, some came to the fore, some stared over the side in disbelief. Nanthild and Joni sat with oars in white-knuckled hands, ready to row, but few took after them.
Desperation in Ketill’s voice was not something any of us were accustomed to.
Over the din of questions, Kraki called out that the ‘Steins had the deck. Up the brothers sprang and pulled down any man still standing while they gave orders.
I went back to my seat at their command and explained to Joni what was happening.
The ‘Steins called Ingolf up to the fore. He was not the strongest, not the fastest, but he had long limbs and, unlike most men, the ability to follow simple directions. Innstein tied a rope to the handle of a shield. If Ingolf could not reach far enough to help Hemming and Haldor, Innstein could throw the shield like a disc and get them a rope to hold on to. Utstein readied an oar to push off.
“Faster!” yelled Ingolf.
The movement of the island, or whatever the island really was, had turned the ship a bit. I could see then that ‘faster’ would not be enough for both men. Maybe Haldor could make it, but Hemming would be swimming. Innstein saw it as well and threw the shield across their path. If one did not make it, at least he might grab the rope and be pulled back up.
Haldor turned, slowed, and ran just behind Hemming for the last dozen steps. At the last moment, he grabbed the tracker’s belt with both hands, bent his knees, and launched the man forward and up.
Hemming flew with such force that he crashed into Ingolf’s chest, and the two toppled backwards onto the deck.
With a groaning exhalation, the island disappeared underwater, pulling Haldor down with it. The Sea Squirrel shuddered at being pulled down by the sudden current. The ship came down almost to the water’s edge, and I felt my balls shrivel into raisins as I saw just a slosh of water over the gunwale.
The current abated, however, and the ship rose again. The shield floated on the water, but I saw no rope or sign of Haldor. Then I realized I could not see the rope because it was pulled taut by the ‘Steins. Something was pulling both men nearly off their feet.
That was a frightening sight. Not as frightening as when the rope suddenly went slack.
“Oars in! Spears ready!” shouted Utstein.
“If there is a wizard with some explanation, now is the time,” said Innstein.
The crew traded oars for spears. Except for Ketill, who strung his bow and nocked an arrow. “Lyngbakr waits for men to land on it and then swallows them,” he said. “We’ve run right up onto his back, so now there is nothing for it but to fight.”
Lyngbakr: Heather-Back. No wonder Huld smelled nothing; it was only a visual trick. What we might accomplish with spears and arrows against an island-sized sea monster, I did not know. “Can we run to shallow water?” I asked.
Ketill growled back in grim determination. “Not much room to run. It is here.” He turned to the ‘Steins and shouted, “Eyes! Go for its eyes if you see it!”
“Hard to go for the eyes if it swallows us whole,” said Kraki. “Going to have to cut our way out then.”
The wizard stopped at that, sudden realization on his face. “Skald, how are you with a bow?”
“Fair?”
“Be better, then,” he shouted, tossing me his longbow and quiver. “I have other work.” Ketill drew his carving knife and looked around the ship, settling on one of the strakes near the rudder.
“It is coming up from below!” Magnus shouted just as we felt the sea lurch beneath us.
Lyngbakr’s nose lifted the ship’s prow out of the water briefly before it slipped off. I dropped the quiver and almost lost my balance, which was better than most others fared only because I ran into the gunwale for support. Ketill had been leaning over the edge and nearly fell off the ship, but Kraki pulled him back on by his robes.
“Better to swim in different directions,” Ulf shouted over the confusion. “This thing will swallow us all at once otherwise! If we swim, half or more might reach another island.”
Svein’s head turned in sudden panic, which I took to mean the strong man was not so strong a swimmer.
“Shut up and let me work!” Ketill spat back. “If I can finish this carving, it will not have the ship so easily.”
“I see its eyes,” I said, nocking an arrow.
There was still no indication of Lyngbakr’s full size. The bulbous body gave way to a short neck pitching below the waves before its massive head rose above the water. A spearhead-like nose and upper jaw gaped so wide I thought we would sail straight into the expanded lower jaw and sit there until it closed on us. Giant, grinding teeth that lined its jaws looked as though they would bite our ship in two if it chose to make us two swallows instead of one.
“Don’t shoot!” warned Huld. “This is no time for stray arrows. Look, there, over its side!”
