The United States of Vinland: The Landing (The Markland Trilogy) (16 page)

Halla
stepped up beside her, “Did you see something?”

Gudrid
glanced at her before turning back to the water. “I thought I saw something
behind the rocky islets.”

“What?”

“I
am not certain, but it was white and red...perhaps a sail?”

The
women stood together, watching.

Nothing
emerged.

Gudrid
began to feel a fool.

And
then, as if charging out from behind the rocks, a ship emerged, with oars out,
a red and white sail billowing as it caught the breeze.

At
first Halla was struck speechless by the sight, despite the news Ballr had
recently brought of Greenlanders in Lakeland. Finally, she reached out and
grabbed Gudrid’s hand.

Gudrid
also stood frozen, but, as always, was the first to find her voice, “By all the
gods of Asgard, Godsland has visitors!”

Halla
gathered herself and turned to call out to Ballr, who worked nearby at chopping
wood, cutting logs into pieces that could be better stacked and carried inside
the hall through the winter.

He
looked up from where he had bent over to stand a log on its end, getting ready
to split it. “What?”

Halla
raised her voice so the others around them, lost in their various labours, would
hear, “A ship.”

Ballr
raised his eyebrows and turned. Others heard the words and stopped to look.

A
ship.

Ballr
turned to Eskil and Alfvin, who toiled nearby. “The Greenlanders?”

Eskil
stepped forward towards the beach. He certainly hoped so. They had numbers
enough to face Thoromr and Trion, but not a ship holding a score or more, with
unknown intentions. “Watch them and look for Faraldr. Let us know if it is he.
Gudrid, Halla, take Seta and Frae and the children to the woodshed and wait.”

The
women began to move. Halla grumbled, “We should stand together in all our
numbers.”

Eskil
looked to Ballr and then to Alfvin. “Perhaps, but do as I say. If we see
Faraldr, we will call you back. Also, take the sheep.

The
ship was still a way off and coming from the direction of Lakeland’s waters, as
if it had left the cove leading to their narrow vale.

Ballr
stepped up to be beside Eskil.

Eskil
asked, “Did you say Faraldr said there was two score of them?”

“Yes.”

“Did
he say how many ships they brought?”

“No.”

“Forty
men would be one or two ships.”

Ballr
nodded. “They came here for timber and furs. They are likely to have two ships
so they can also fit a good cargo onboard. Otherwise, it would be a wasted
trip.”

The
ship cut forward through the calm seas, but the waters stirred as if the dark
and chilled depths knew winter was not far off.

Only
five days had passed since Ari’s murder.

Eskil
called out to the men about him, “We need friends, but we will defend our hall
if need be.” He looked in the direction of Ari’s recently built cairn, the hill
of the hall obscuring it from view. “Taming Markland will demand enough of our
blood, so we cannot give it away to pay for squabbles and petty disagreements.”

There
was more than one nod of agreement amongst them.

The
ship was closer now, but the low autumn sun above made the detail of it and its
crew hard to see. Clouds overhead occasionally came to soften the light and cut
the glare off the water.

The
boat continued to near, the sail not quite full, while oars along both sides
rhythmically cut into the water.

A
voice called out when a dark silhouette appeared at the prow, “Ho, Ballr!”

Ballr
grinned, offering up a soft chuckle.

The
tension that had settled over the men of Godsland faded.

Ballr
put up an arm and waved, “Faraldr?”

“Ballr,
this would be Godsland then?”

“Yes,
come ashore and be welcome.”

Eskil
asked, “Can we trust him?”

“I
do not know, but he could have killed me back on the hillside. I do not think
his fight is with us; Thoromr’s might have been, but not the Greenlander’s.”

Alfvin
spoke with a deep voice behind them, one hand clutching a new axe, “No, we have
no fight with the Greenlanders. Not yet.”

Eskil
pondered that. “Remember...it was not these men who killed Ari, but Thoromr. That
does not free them from our suspicions though, as we know that the White Christ
has reached Greenland, too. Be wary.”

The
ship was closer now and they could see Faraldr more clearly as he waved afresh.
He looked relieved to have found them so easily. Behind him, his men lowered the
sail.

Ballr
stepped forward to the edge of the water and called out, “I was beginning to
think you planned not to visit!”

Faraldr
actually laughed, as other Norse faces came into view behind him. They seemed
curious and plain, not threatening. “We saw to Thoromr, a man whose anger for
now is well and truly quenched, then gathered our timbers and other cargoes
before heading out this morning.”

“Back
to Greenland?”

“Yes,
but first we wanted to see what you have built here.”

Those
on the oars behind him let them drag in the water, holding them there to slow
the ship. They also dropped an anchor.

The
ship slowed as it cut through the shallows.

The
crew began working the oars to bring the ship to a stop, reversing their stroke
when the vessel headed straight for the gravel beach.

Ballr
and the others stood back to make way for the ship as it closed in. Such ships
were often beached, but it looked as though the Greenlanders planned to leave
the ship in the water.

The
ship was full with cut timber and bulging sacks of furs. The cramped crew,
nearly thirty in number, sat or stood around the cargo, watching the beach and
taking in the sight of the hall built into the hillside.

Eskil
whispered to Torrador, “Fetch the women back.”

Torrador
turned to do so, but began to laugh instead when he spied them watching from
around the corner of the woodshed, barely hidden from the new arrivals. He
waved to them, calling them over. Seta led them down the path, causing Torrador
to smile. She had fascinated him since she faced off Thoromr, a full season or
more ago.

Eskil
shook his head, as Ballr grimaced.

Alfvin
frowned and hissed a word at Frae when the women returned. It took Eskil a
moment to realise that the word was not Norse, but rather of the skraeling’s
own tongue.

Frae
shrugged back at him, ignoring what must have been a scolding, while, beside
her, unbelievably, Seta laughed.

The
ship’s prow came to a stop just short of the beach.

At
the same time, Godsland’s women arrived, all now gathered to greet the ship.

––––––––

T
he
Greenlanders, led by Faraldr, stayed not only the day, but also the night. They
feasted on seafood, in the hall’s warmth, and helped build a good-natured
chorus of talk, laughter and song.

Some
of the Greenlanders seemed surprised at the presence of the skraelings and
their treatment, but they respected the ways of the hall. Faraldr himself asked
Ballr about Ari’s thrall as they ate their fill by the fire pit. Later, Faraldr
sat with Eskil and Gudrid, Ballr and Halla, and also Alfvin, Frae and Seta. The
Greenlander looked about him while the fire pit’s flames lit the main hall, the
Godslanders and his own men. “You have a good hall.”

Eskil
answered, “We are pleased with how it lasted through the winter, and have only
made it stronger for what is to come.”

“You
have room enough, and good stores, I trust.” He looked behind him to the altar,
statuettes and the small fire burning before it. “I am also glad to see such
respect shown to our gods.”

Gudrid
smiled to hear it. She had taken an instant liking to the Greenlander when he
initially toured the hall and saw the fire-lit altar with its carved figures.
He had not only been pleased, but also paused to pay his respects.

“Thoromr
already told me the tale of how you left the old lands, joined with others of
like minds such as he and his father, and then came to be shipwrecked here.”
His gaze settled on Gudrid. “He also spoke of his father’s anger at what he
called the unnatural influence of the women.”

Gudrid
shook her head. “He would have been better to call it common sense.”

“I
suspect you are right, since he is dead and his son is back in Lakeland,
missing an eye”

Frae
and Seta both frowned, dragged back to dark and bloody memories.

Faraldr
shook his head as he continued, “I swear, things have calmed down in Lakeland
since we arrived, but of the three of them, you simply could not know who would
be the first one to knife who.”

Ballr
asked, “Have some of your people stayed behind?”

“Yes,
they shall winter there.”

“It
is a poor hall to winter in.”

Faraldr
gave a nod. “Our hall, Lakeland as they call it, is good enough for shelter
over summer, not well-made for winter’s cold, yet it will do. We have left
people there to keep not just the peace, but also our claim on it. Besides, if
you are here, perhaps we shall look at permanently settling some of our own
people. My family has several farms in Greenland and back in Iceland.”

Eskil
offered, “We would welcome neighbours, certainly some of our own kind, to help
with things. I would greatly love to see some women for our lonely men, but
above all, we want to keep Markland as a place for our gods, not the followers
of the White Christ. That is the vision that delivered us here.”

Faraldr
considered his host’s words and looked about the hall again, his eyes coming to
rest on the raven banner hanging by the door. “I also honour the gods. I cannot
speak for all who might come, but I can give you my word that all
I
bring across will be faithful to the Allfather and Asgard. I can dissuade any
others with tales of fierce skraelings, weary stories of harsh conditions,
fields of stone, and fjords packed with ice.”

Those
beside him nodded their appreciation.

“While
you have done well in establishing yourselves, you must also be short of many
things?”

“There
is much that we need, and I suspect each of us would give a different list. But
my first suggestions would be livestock, seed and people–particularly women.”

Faraldr
grinned. “Grains for making ale?”

Eskil
laughed. “Amongst other things. It has been a dry year.”

Alfvin
offered, “And iron, but we are working on that.”

Gudrid
grunted. “We also need cloth and pots.”

Ballr
laughed. “To be fair, there are too many things for us to name, but we can
easily build up a stock of timber and furs ready for you to take back to
Greenland in trade.”

Faraldr
liked the idea. “Greenland has trees, but they are often small or stunted,
usually only willow and birch. We can use the wood for many things, but finding
good trunks for masts and roof beams is difficult. We have none of the towering
pines and firs that are here.”

They
talked on of things they might trade and do to help each other; Markland had
things Greenland could use, while Greenland had more people and thus a broader
range of talents and skills.

The
night wound on, but was a good one.

––––––––

T
he
Greenlanders made ready to begin their voyage home the next morning.

Eskil
considered what they had talked about, particularly in regard to what they
could trade or needed of each other. In the end, as Faraldr and his men had
boarded their ship, Eskil repeated those needs for both Godsland and the new
vale they planned on opening up.

As
they waved off Faraldr and his Greenlanders, Eskil promised to have a load of
timber ready for collecting by midsummer. Faraldr nodded, calling out that he
would return. He added, “Do not forget...we shall also want some furs!”

Eskil
nodded and chuckled. Godsland was going to be busy come next thaw.

He
had not said specifically where the fresh valley he had spoken of was located,
but he was thinking of the golden vale where Alfvin now sourced their bog iron,
a place that held room for scores of farm halls, all of which needed more
people.

Faraldr
understood.

Then,
into the morning, the ship set back to sea, rowing out before setting sail.

-

The Rise of
Ravens

Seta
did go back to try to find her people, but not until after her first Godsland
winter had passed. In that long and cold season, following the murder of Ari,
she found solace in her two babes, her sister, and amongst the other women,
particularly in the friendship that grew deep and true with Halla. Seta had
mostly refused the interest of the hall’s men, although, in her own aloof way,
she had entertained some of Torrador’s attention. So when she tested her gifted
freedom by announcing she wanted to try and find what remained of her family,
it was not a great surprise that Torrador wore a frown and silently stewed over
the news.

Eskil
understood the pain caused by lost family, something he knew only too well,
after the Battle of Svold. The sea conflict, an ambush of fleets, had left him
missing his father and older brothers, who had been lost, if not to
Christian-backed axes and blades, then to the wants of allied kings.

When
spring had well and truly arrived, Eskil, Ballr and a sullen Torrador took Seta
a fair distance down the fjord and across the channel, to near where she said
the land opened up into several vales her extended family often passed through
in late spring and summer.

The
distance was a fair one, not far past the entrance to Alfvin’s Golden Dale, but
on the opposite shore. That put it on the same side of the channel as Lakeland,
but far removed. Getting that far took enough of the day that the three men
camped with her for the night before planning to return to Godsland in the
morning.

And
that is how she wanted it. She needed to search for what was left of her
family, and she needed to do it without any Godslanders.

The
night in the wilds was uncomfortable, the wind fresh and the showers of rain
verging on sleet. They sheltered in a glade that grew close to the base of a
small cliff, which offered some relief from the worst of the weather, but
certainly no peace. Torrador offered to take the middle watch, seeing them
through the heart of the night. Seta woke and rose from her furs to sit with
him by the campfire.

Eskil
felt for Torrador, for there seemed to be a genuine feeling in his attraction
to Seta, not merely an urge to find a mate. To see the two together delivered
its own comfort, despite the weather.

Torrador
and Seta talked quietly, wrapped in their own furs and skins while they watched
the night.

Neither
spoke much at first, yet as the night stretched on, Seta attempted to ease
Torrador’s mood. “The wind dies.”

He
looked to the fire, watching it fight against the occasional spit of rain, the
wind stirring it. Hot, yellow flames raced over the glowing embers and leapt up
to lick at the air. “You would be more comfortable in Godsland, with your
children.”

She
frowned, an expression so frequent on her face that it seemed its natural
state, yet this once, by the flickering firelight, she looked to be genuinely
unhappy. “I will return.”

He
looked at her, his eyes only occasionally darting away to check on the dark
woodlands about them. “To stay or to merely fetch your children should you find
your own people out here?” He waved a hand at the forest.

She
turned away from him, gazing into the depths of the shadows.

He
pursued her in her silence. “What if you find nothing, but someone finds you?
You will be all alone.”

She
pursed her lips and shook her head.

“What
if it should be Thoromr?”

She
snorted. “I will kill him!”

Torrador
could not stifle a smirk at her answer, but he did not doubt that she would
try.

“I
will!” she responded.

“I
know you will. I still remember you telling him off on the boat!” He could not
help but chuckle at the memory.

Her
grave manner faded, melting into a smile.

He
calmed himself, becoming serious, before he said. “If the two of you meet
again, I know one of you will end up dead.”

Seta
nodded.

“But
if he has an axe...” Torrador’s words trailed off.

She
hissed, her eyes sparkling with passion, “Give me your blade! With your iron I
shall protect myself and take his head.”

“I
would prefer to lend you my arm, so I could be there to fight for you.”

Her
expression softened, her voice coming as a whisper, “I must look for my people.
I must find what has happened to them.”

He
nodded, knowing she was not one to easily be swayed. “If you must go, then let
me come with you?”

She
leaned in against him, her fur wrapped body pressing along his side. “Torrador,
Thoromr is not the only danger out there. My own people might kill you.”

He
put his arm around her, pulling her close. “You will have a blade, but I would
prefer to be your iron.”

They
spoke long into the night, of her childhood campsites, the stream that ran down
her home valley, and the great meeting of families, where the vales joined, as
they celebrated spring and honoured the spirits of the land.

Together
they talked, and the night drew on.

––––––––

A
t
dawn, the men prepared to set off back to the boat. Seta said her goodbyes, and
that seemed easy enough for her until she came to Torrador. He stood there,
dark and quiet, tall and strong, looming over her as if a towering mountain.

With
each previous Norseman, she said she would visit Godsland soon enough, but it
was when this mantra was on her tongue before Torrador that her voice broke.

He
looked coldly upon her, the softness of last night forgotten. He was more aloof
and distant than any withering look Seta had ever offered.

With
her words stalling, an awkward silence filled the glade.

Torrador’s
manner stiffened even more before he opened his mouth to speak. “Such a visit,
should you not be taken out here by wolves of four legs or two, or Thoromr
himself, will only be to fetch your children.”

Seta’s
bottom lip trembled. “I have to find my people.”

“What
of Frae and your children should you be killed?”

She
bit her lip and then frowned, but had no answer.

“What
of all of us at Godsland?” He put a hand to her elbow and hissed, “We have been
good to you.”

She
swallowed and said, “I will return. We will talk then, but first I must know
what has happened here.”

“I
will see you again.”

“Wait
for me in Godsland.”

“I
will be where you need me.”

She
pursed her lips and nodded.

The
silence that had earlier filled the glade returned, although now it held a
softer edge.

Eskil
cleared his throat. “Good luck Seta. All of us, not just Frae or your children,
await your safe return.”

Seta
glanced at Eskil and Ballr and nodded. Finally, she looked back to Torrador.
With nothing left to say, she quickly ducked in and kissed him on the mouth,
stunning both him and the other men.

In
a heartbeat, she then turned, got her pack on her shoulder and stepped out of
the clearing.

The
men watched her go, Torrador’s surprise fading as he began to shake his head.

Before
long, she was gone, lost amidst the spring growth and trees.

Eskil
turned, beginning the short walk back to the boat.

Torrador
stood staring at the woods where Seta had gone. Finally, Ballr clapped him on
the shoulder, nodding after Eskil. “Come, we should go.”

Torrador
shook his head again. “Yes.”

Ballr
and Torrador followed the trail ahead, before long coming to the gravel beach
where Eskil stood readying the boat.

Eskil
looked up and said, “To the golden vale then. We shall check on Alfvin before
heading home.”

Ballr
agreed. “Yes, with an early start, we should still make it back to Godsland
before sunset.” He dropped his own pack into the boat and helped Eskil push it
out into the water.

The
two looked back at Torrador, the big man standing there, his own pack on his
shoulder, not making any effort to come near the water.

Eskil
said, “Come Torrador. We have a long way to go.”

Torrador
remained still.

Ballr
stopped what he was doing and looked to both men. He asked, “Torrador, what is
on your mind?”

Torrador
frowned. “It is dangerous for a woman to be on her own, even Seta.”

Eskil
gave a nod. “Yes, even Seta.”

“I
should follow her.”

“We
need you back at Godsland.”

“I
want to help her, to see her safe.”

“If
something happened to you, perhaps her own people mistaking you for a man of
Lakeland, it would be a grave loss.”

Torrador
frowned.

Ballr
added to Eskil’s words, “Not just a loss to our hall, but to all of us.”

Torrador’s
face was torn, grim and frustrated, yet sad and strong. Finally, he said, “I
will come with you. She does not want me, or our help, so that is the way it
should be.”

Eskil
reached out a hand.

Torrador
stepped forward and took it, and he then swung his pack down into the boat as
they prepared to leave.

Ballr
offered, “Besides, you shall get to see Alfvin tell off Eskil, when our leader
again calls the bog works ‘Golden Vale’.”

Eskil
laughed. “Yes, and not the shorter name of Guldale, as I must remember.”

Torrador
smiled at that, his mood lightening.

––––––––

A
lfvin
stood up from where he knelt beside Erik the Dane and the ash of their work
fire, surrounded by the makeshift tools and mess of their workings. As he did,
he smiled and lifted a hand to wave. Under his breath, he said, “The ironmen
have visitors.”

Erik
stood beside him, brushing the dirt off his hands. With a nervous sigh, he
whispered, “You mean again. Perhaps I should have stuck to fishing with the
brothers Steinarr and Samr or collecting wood with Ballr.”

Eskil
unknowingly cut off the exchange, calling out as Ballr and Torrador followed
him through the low hills that lay across the entrance to the vale, “How go
things?”

Alfvin
offered a grin, but the darkness about his eyes spoke of fatigue. “Well enough,
but I did not expect to see anyone for a few more days.”

Erik
was quiet behind him.

All
the men came together, the new arrivals dropping their packs to the ground.

Alfvin
said, “The rain over the past few days has slowed us, but we already have some
bog iron to take back.”

Eskil
nodded, pleased, but looking over the tired men at close quarters put other
concerns into his mind. “You look exhausted. What has been happening?” He also
noted the dead fire. “You are not working your iron today?”

Erik
glanced beyond their worksite, his eyes scanning the crest of hills around
them. He looked nervous.

Alfvin
offered, “We have had company.”

Ballr
gasped, but Eskil waited for Alfvin to continue.

Behind
them, Torrador could not help but ask, “Who? Lakelanders or skraelings?”

Eskil
knew his mind was as much on Seta, all alone across the water, as it was on
whatever threat had visited Alfvin and Erik.

“Skraelings.
They came down from the vale in a group of five, but more were waiting back in
the trees. They saw our smoke and came to investigate.”

Eskil
could see no sign of struggle or wounds on the men, only fatigue from long
watches through the night. “What happened?”

Alfvin
turned to Erik and said, “Can you check on them while I speak? We shall join
you soon.”

Erik
nodded, and turned to carefully climb up one of the low hilltops, before
flattening out to look across the vale, trying to remain unseen.

Alfvin
began the tale, “Yesterday they arrived, five men, of the same look as Frae and
Seta. We were merely working, and then turned to see them standing on the
hilltop, looking down on us.” He indicated to where Erik now lay. “Both Erik
and I were caught off guard, completely. We had our blades on us, but our backs
to them, lost in our toil. If they had wanted to kill us, they could have done
it before we would have known.”

“What
happened?”

“We
stopped and stared at each other for a good while. They looked upon us coldly,
but did not move to come closer or raise their spears, so I took a chance and
said hello.”

“Hello,
in our own tongue? What happened?”

“I
did use our own tongue at first, but after a heartbeat with no reply, I
repeated a greeting Frae taught me.”

“And
they knew it?”

“Yes.”

“So
they were friendly?”

“It
is probably best to say ‘not hostile’.”

“What
do you mean?”

“We
exchanged a few words, and while I know a bit of Frae’s language, I do not know
enough to work such a meeting well, though I tried.”

“What
else did you speak of?”

“They
asked where we were from, but their questions and gestures made me think what
they were really asking was if we were from Lakeland.”

Eskil
considered that with a furrowed brow. “That is not good. They will not have had
any good dealings with Lakeland.”

Alfvin
gave a knowing nod. “I told them we were not from that way, but knew of the
people there. I tried to show we had no love for them. Instead, I said we were
from the sea and indicated the channel out more to the north. I did not point
out Godsland.”

“They
know of Lakeland for certain?”

“Yes,
know of it and have no love for it.”

“Why?”

“From
what I could understand, it seems they have lost people to Lakeland, but I do
not think it was to Thoromr’s axe–or mostly not.”

“What
do you mean?”

“They
spoke of some kind of sickness amongst them, an illness that has taken more
than a few of them over late winter and into spring.”