Beyond the Sea Mist (25 page)

Ahead, the river branched off in two directions. When they reached the juncture, the ship veered down the left course. Soon a large settlement came into view, with buildings on either side of the river. Ailinn was reminded of Dublin, although the structures here were arranged in orderly rows. Indeed, that’s what struck her as the
Dragonsbreath
glided near the dock. York appeared to have been built according to a plan.

Two crew members jumped down to the dock and began to secure the mooring lines. The rest of the crew pulled in the oars and stowed them away. When they’d finished, the men began digging in their sea chests. As they took out swordbelts and weapons and put them on, Ailinn guessed they were preparing to go into the settlement.

“It looks as if most of the men are going ashore,” Brina said. “I wonder if we’ll be allowed to do so.”

“Why would you want to?” Gormlaith responded. “I have no desire to enter another Norse settlement. Dublin seemed like a very dangerous place to me.”

“If I went into York with Orm I wouldn’t be afraid,” Brina said. “I vow he would be able to protect me from any danger.”

“I’m certain we’ll be left on the ship for now,” responded Ailinn. “Magnus will want to attend to their business first.”

“And what business is that?” asked Gormlaith.

“Trading, of course.”

“But I thought most of the cargo had been tossed overboard,” said Ullach.

Ailinn thought of the bag of metalwork. Would Magnus immediately take it into the settlement? If he did, her hope of stealing a piece was futile.

“Perhaps after they’ve attended to their business, they’ll come back and fetch us,” Brina suggested wistfully.

Ailinn didn’t respond. Other than trying to find someone to buy her, she doubted Magnus would think of her once he was in the settlement. Even after he’d paid the crew, he’d have plenty of wealth to enjoy himself the way most men did. She grimaced, thinking of him in bed with a whore. It seemed unfair that some harlot should be the one to enjoy Magnus’s beautiful body and superb skills as a lover.

The crew began to haul up cargo from the hold. There were a few barrels, which Ailinn guessed must contain wine, some soggy bags of grain, hides and sheepskins. The hides appeared ruined, and Magnus must have agreed, for he left them on the deck. The rest of the cargo he had the men carry down the unloading plank. A short while later, Magnus disembarked. Ailinn saw that he wasn’t carrying the bag. It was possible he’d left at least some of the metalwork on the ship.

The
Seawolf
had docked behind the
Dragonsbreath
. Ailinn watched as Magnus approached the other ship and began to converse with the Seawolf’s crew, who were also dragging cargo down a loading plank. A short while later, a man with an ox-drawn cart arrived on the dock. Magnus spoke to him and the men began loading the small amount of cargo onto the cart. When they were finished, the man goaded the oxen to move the cart down the dock and onto a muddy trackway leading into the settlement. After saying something to the crew members gathered on the quay, Magnus started after the cart. A handful of warriors followed after him.

“I wonder why Orm isn’t going.” Brina mused.

“He’s probably going to stay here and guard the ship,” Gormlaith suggested.

Or guard the treasure
, Ailinn thought with irritation.

Orm soon reboarded the
Dragonsbreath
. When he sat down on his sea chest, which was only a short distance from Magnus’s, Ailinn suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Other men gathered around and they soon had one of their endless dice games going.

“I’m going to speak to Orm,” Brina said, smiling brightly. Ailinn watched her walk over to the group of men. As Brina approached, Orm looked up from his game and smiled. Brina sat down next to him on the sea chest. He touched her arm, then leaned over to whisper something in her ear. Judging from the fiery blush coloring Brina’s cheeks, whatever he said had to do with loveplay. A thought came to Ailinn. Perhaps while Orm’s attention was distracted, she could sneak a look in Magnus’s sea chest. It was on the other side of the deck from where Orm was, and if enough people were gathered around he might not notice what she was doing.

“Let’s go over to where Brina is,” she told the other women.

“Why?” Ullach asked, looking surprised. “I thought you despised dicing and board games.”

“We’ve nothing better to do,” Ailinn answered.

Her plan was working. As soon as she and Gormlaith and Ullach reached the area of the dice game, other members of the crew gathered around them. When one of them moved near to Ullach and smiled at her, Ailinn wondered if Asgar—who’d gone into the settlement with Magnus—might not have some competition. A small swarthy seaman was also standing very close to Gormlaith.

Ailinn left the group and continued on to the stern end of the ship. She paused by the steering oar. The ancient seaman who usually manned it was nowhere around.

Ailinn went to the side of the vessel and gazed out at the settlement beyond. Other men had arrived on the dock and begun conversing with the few men from the
Dragonsbreath
and the
Seawolf
who remained. Ailinn guessed the crew was telling the men from York about the storm, Croa’s demise and the rest of what had happened. She saw the men from York eyeing the two ships. Were they assessing Magnus’s hold on his crew and whether they could wrest control of the ships from him? A chill went down Ailinn’s spine. What if something happened to Magnus while he was in the settlement? Despite his size and battle skill, he suddenly seemed very vulnerable. The only certain ally he had was Orm. The rest of these men could turn against him at any time.

She began to feel guilty about her plan to steal a piece of the metalwork. Then she told herself that taking one armband or amulet wouldn’t make a difference in Magnus’s fate, although it might alter hers.

Her determination to acquire a portion of the treasure returned. After all, if it wasn’t for her, Magnus wouldn’t even know about it. But she must wait for the right moment to make her move. Although Orm’s attention was mostly occupied by Brina and the dice game, he still glanced around every little while, as if recalling his responsibility to look after things while Magnus was gone. What she needed was a more serious distraction. Perhaps when Magnus returned, Orm would leave the ship to speak to him. She would have to bide her time until then.

* * *

“These are very fine pieces.” The metalsmith, named Njall, looked up from examining the gold armband inset with brilliant enamel designs of horse heads and swirling shapes. He put down the bracelet and hefted a jewel-encrusted dagger. “Not only are they made from nearly pure metal, but the workmanship is excellent.”

“How much for the lot?” Magnus asked.

Njall, a slender man with hair so fair it was nearly silver, looked up at Magnus with his pale blue eyes. “Are you certain you want to sell me these things? They’d fetch much more in a bigger market like Hedeby or Kaupang. There you might be able to barter directly with some jarl or king.”

Magnus shook his head impatiently. “I need silver to pay my crew. Unless I pay them, I have no means of traveling elsewhere.”

Njall nodded. “Very well. I’ll fetch the silver.” The metalsmith rose and motioned to a brawny slave standing nearby. The two men went to a door in the back wall, and Njall took out a key and unlocked it so they could enter the back chamber of the shop. Hearing a click, Magnus realized the metalsmith had locked the door behind them. He must have a whole cache of precious metal stashed in that room.

Magnus glanced around the small shop and noticed a second well-muscled slave watching him from near the forge. The metalsmith depended on these thralls for protection. They both looked well-fed and healthy, and Magnus supposed they had relatively easy lives for slaves. They didn’t have to work in the fields or do hard labor.

He wondered how they had come to be thralls, and where they were from. Both of them looked Norse. Had their families been unable to feed them and sold them into slavery when they were boys? Or had they been taken captive during a battle or other skirmish? Magnus had never given slaves much thought before. Now he wondered at the vagaries of fate that caused one man to end up as the property of another. The unfairness and randomness of it made him uncomfortable. He knew he couldn’t bear being a slave; he’d rather die than be at the mercy of some other man. And Ailinn felt the same way.

Ailinn.
He’d been so busy with the details of landing in York and selling off the cargo he’d been able to avoid thinking about her for most of the day. But now his awareness of her returned as intensely as ever. He still felt bitterness when he considered how she’d tried to manipulate him, but his anger was fading. In light of the circumstances she’d endured, her shrewd, cautious attitude was understandable. She’d to try to protect herself and to use what advantages she had to regain control over her life. He would do the same if he were in her situation. Her inability to trust him was only natural.

Still, it galled him she was able to regard him with such cold detachment. Only when he was kissing her and touching her and bringing her to her peak—only then was he able to penetrate her frosty demeanor. Perhaps that was the answer. He must make love to her until she forgot to be wary and calculating.

His loins stirred with arousal as he contemplated finding a house in York where they could be alone. Even after he paid the crew, he should easily have enough for such a venture. The place didn’t have to be large, but it must have a real bed with linen sheets and a straw mattress. He’d purchase food...and wine. Ailinn would want to bathe, which meant a tub with hot water...and soap. He would have to have help with these details. Perhaps he could find a house that came with servants. Surely there was some wealthy man who had a house in York he only used when he was visiting the settlement. He would ask the metalsmith when he came back.

Even as he had the thought, the click of a lock roused Magnus from his musings. Njall re-entered the shop, followed by the slave carrying a large cloth bag in his arms. Magnus’s eyes widened. The bag was nearly as large as a cat, and undoubtedly weighed a good deal more.

“It’s mostly coin,” Njall said. He nodded to the slave, who carried the bag over to a work table. The slave loosened the drawstring on the bag and dumped out a portion of the contents. Magnus went over and examined the variety of metal objects spilling out of the bag—coins of all sorts, lumps of melted down silver, bits of chain, rings, parts of armbands and amulets, even some silver hinges that must have once adorned some elegant box or other container.

Magnus wondered if he should have the slave dump out the entire contents of the bag. There was always the possibility the metalsmith would try to cheat him by filling the bottom portion with baser metal. But he decided to trust the man. It was clear from the smoke-stained roof and the weathered walls of the shop that the metalsmith had been here for some time. If he were dishonest, word would spread and he wouldn’t be able to stay in business.

Magnus nodded in acceptance of the payment and the slave refilled the bag. After tightening the drawstring, the slave handed the bag to Magnus. Even after having seen the slave straining to carry it, Magnus was amazed by the weight of the bag.

He started toward the door, then remembered his plan. “Another thing, Njall,” he began. “I would like to hire a house for a night or two. Someplace fine, with a bed and all the other comforts you would find in a wealthy man’s household.”

Njall nodded. “I know of such a place. It belongs to a trader who’s off at sea right now, traveling to Novorgard for furs and spices from the east. He left a man in charge of the house. His name is Aevar Helgasson.”

“Where can I find this Aevar?”

“I could have one of my servants take you to him.”

“First, I must take the silver back to the ship,” Magnus said, hefting the bag over his shoulder. “Then I’ll return.”

Njall nodded in farewell and Magnus left the shop. When he got outside, Bragi, Floki, Lodur and Asgar—the men he’d brought along for protection--gaped at the bag. “Loki’s balls!” exclaimed Asgar. “You said you had a few pieces of jewelry to sell. What were they made of—solid gold?”

“You might want to keep your voice down,” muttered Magnus. “The street appears deserted, but you never know who might be listening. If I were a thief, this is the very place where I would stalk unwary travelers.”

“Aye,” agreed Asgar. “We looked around a bit while you were with the smith. All along here are shops where they sell metalwork, combs and beads—things that would be easy to steal and carry off.”

Magnus nodded. The man he’d hired the cart from had told him if he wanted to trade luxury items, he should go to Coppergate, the street where the finer commodities were made and exchanged.

The metalsmith’s shop was behind his house, so they had to make their way between his house and the next to get back to the street. The path was very narrow and Magnus was forced to turn sideways to squeeze through with the sack of silver. Reaching the street, they started back toward the dock.

* * *

Ailinn watched from the ship as Magnus and his guard returned. He seemed to be carrying a bag of something over his shoulder. Ailinn wondered what was inside, but she didn’t pay too much attention. The rest of the men on the
Dragonsbreath
— including Orm—were disembarking. This was her chance.