T hey had sailed south, farther south than Kristen had ever dreamed of going. She knew it was south, for each night the sky stayed darker longer, until finally the darkness was equal to the daylight. For days now they had sailed past a beautiful land whose coastline was kissed by summer's green, but no one would tell her what land it was.
She knew something about the lands to the south; she couldn't help but know with the number of servants that had come and gone from her home through the years, all from different lands. The land they sailed past now could be the large island of the Irish Celts, or the even bigger island that was shared by the Scots, Picts, Angles, Saxons, and the Welsh Celts, her mother's people. Or it could even be the land of the Franks, though she did think that land would be to the left, not on the right as this one was.
If it was one of the large islands, then she had reason to believe they might be raiding the Danes, for those Northmen had set about conquering both islands, and the last she heard, they had nearly succeeded. And if it was the Danes they would raid, well, what an equal match that would be, as opposed to attacking the smaller peoples of those islands.
Selig knew more about it, but he wasn't telling her anything. Although still highly displeased with her, he had finally let her come out of the cargo well. Even Thorolf, Tyra's brother, would tell her nothing. She supposed their logic was that if she didn't know where they were or what they did once they landed, she would have nothing to tell her father when they finally returned home.
As if she would have the nerve to tell her father any of this! He was a successful merchant. He did not condone raiding with his ships. The men of the Haardrad clan had not raided since her grandfather's day. But of course the young men dreamed of the riches that could be had with one successful raid, and these men sailing under Selig were all young, and this was a fine ship for such a venture.
Built of oak, it had a stout pine mast that supported the large square sail of red and white stripes. The long ship sailed swiftly through the waters, helped along by the sixteen pairs of long, narrow-bladed spruce oars, the red and gold dragon's head pointing the way.
Kristen was not sorry she had come, for the excitement of the men became her own. And even though she would not be allowed to leave the ship, God's teeth, she now had a story with which to amaze her children and grandchildren on cold winter nights! And the climax was soon at hand. She could tell by the change in the men, and by the way Selig and Ohthere now watched the coast even more closely.
It was early morning when they turned into the mouth of a wide river, and every man was now needed at the oars. Kristen's excitement built with each passing minute, for this seemed like virgin land to her, even though she could see small settlements and villages from time to time.
The explorer in her was fascinated with everything she saw. The adventurer in her held her breath when they finally dropped anchor and Selig came to her, for she was still hoping she might be allowed to go with them. She had even readied herself for that possibility, tucking her long braid into the back of her tunic to keep it out of the way, and wearing the silver helmet that Ohthere had teasingly tossed to her that morning.
Kristen didn't have a shield, but although she hadn't thought that she would need it, she had brought along the lightweight sword her mother had given her all those years ago when she taught her to use it. However, she wouldn't reveal the sword to Selig unless he did agree to let her go with him, for her possession of such a fine weapon would elicit too many questions from him.
His scowling expression as he looked over her male apparel did not bode well for his changing his mind about where she would stay until he returned. Selig was a very handsome man, but when he scowled he was frightening, except to her, who knew him so well.
"I have been a sore trial to you, Selig, but—"
"Not a word, Kristen." Impatiently he cut her short. "I can see you are still of a mind to do what you want and not what I tell you, but not this time. You will get yourself into the cargo well and stay there until I return."
"But—"
"Do it, Kristen!"
"Oh, very well." She sighed, then gave him a half smile, for she couldn't say good-bye to him with harsh words. "May the gods bring you luck—for whatever it is you are going to do."
He almost laughed, but grinned instead. "That— from you, Christian?"
"Well, I know my god will watch over you without the asking, but I also know you would welcome all the help you can get from Father's gods as well."
"Then spend your time praying for me, Kris."
His eyes softened just before he hugged her to him. But then he nodded toward the cargo well, and Kristen dropped her shoulders in defeat and went.
She did not stay there for long, however. No sooner was the last man over the side and heading for the river-bank than she pulled herself out of the well, gaining a grin from Bjorn, one of the men left behind with the ship, and a scowl from the other guard. But neither of them barked at her to get below, so she was able to watch the crew make their way inland toward a thick forest that blocked the rest of the land from view.
She paced about in her frustration to be stuck here where there would be no action at all. It was only midday and a hot sun beat down on them, hotter than any she had ever known in Norway. How long would the men be gone? God's teeth, it could be days for all she knew.
"Thor!"
Kristen swung around to see the last of the crew entering the dark forest. And then she heard what the man beside her had heard: the clanging of swords and the cries of men engaged in battle.
"They must be a mighty force if they can attack instead of turning tail to run. Get below, Kristen!"
Bjorn shouted this even as he jumped over the side of the ship. Kristen obeyed, but only to collect her sword. When she pulled herself back out of the well, she saw that both of the men who had been left behind were now running toward the forest to help their friends. She did not hesitate to join them, for as Bjorn had said, only a mighty force would attack so many armed Vikings, and she reasoned they would need even her help, little as it might be.
She caught up with the two men just as they reached the forest and charged into it with bloodcurdling yells. She did not follow directly. There was nothing around her but fallen bodies. Oh, God, she had not thought it would be like this. She saw her cousin Olaf lying at an odd angle . . . there was so much blood. Selig! Where was Selig?
She forced her gaze away from the ground littered with dead men to look ahead of her, where the fighting was still going on. She took note of the attackers now, and could not believe that these small, wiry men had done so much damage, for there were not so many that she could see—and, she realized, they were not all small, either. There was one even a few inches taller than she, and he was fighting—Selig! And God in heaven, he was not the only one wielding a sword against her brother.
She started forward to help him, but was set upon by a little man with a fierce cry who blocked her way. Instead of facing a sword, she was attacked with a long spear that she quickly cut in two, and the moment she raised her sword against the man, he fled.
Having lost direction, she swung frantically about, searching for Selig again, and then screamed, for just as her eyes found him, he was falling, and the tall one he had been fighting pulled back a bloody sword. She went wild, racing toward him, her eyes fixed on the man who had struck him down.
Kristen struck blindly at a man who appeared on her right to challenge her, leaving him behind. And then she was there, before her brother's killer, and fending off his first thrust. Their eyes met just before her sword entered his flesh. She noted that his blue eyes widened perceptibly as she pulled her sword out, but it was the last thing she saw.