The United States of Vinland: The Landing (The Markland Trilogy) (17 page)

Torrador
shifted, restless beside Eskil.

Ballr
asked, “Did you speak of anything else?”

“They
asked how I knew their tongue, so I told them that I married Frae.”

Eskil
asked, “Do they know of her?”

“It
is hard to say. They did talk amongst themselves for a while after that, their
manner relaxing a little. They asked afterwards where she was, so I told them
back at our own camp with our son. They then seemed to relax and left, bidding
us good hunting.”

“They
did not ask what you were doing or come to look around?”

“Erik
thinks they might be scared of coming too close in case they get sick.
Regardless, they did seem curious, but not overly so, at our doings.”

Erik
called down from the hilltop, “I can see them by the trees – only two – but
campfire smoke still rises from further down the vale.”

Alfvin
gestured, “Come, but keep low.”

They
followed him up the hillside and dropped down to lie on their bellies beside
Erik, as they peered through the spring shrubbery.

Eskil
asked, “What else can you tell us?”

Erik
answered, “We know there are more, but we have not yet approached their camp.”

“How
many do you think there might be?”

Alfvin
spoke, “We cannot say for certain, but we saw as many as fifteen yesterday
afternoon. I think it must be several families.”

Erik
added, “Their sudden appearance unnerved us, and they easily outnumber us, from
what we have seen. Worse still, they have been around the camp after dark,
taking a look at our workings.”

“Did
you confront them?”

Alfvin
shook his head. “No, after that first meeting, there being only the two of us,
we crossed to the island to sleep, with one always on watch.”

“I
see.” Eskil was pleased they had taken such a precaution.

The
five men watched the two skraelings who were digging in the soil not far out
from the tree line. As they looked on, two more appeared – small children –
when they chased a little creature, perhaps a squirrel, out of the woods. The
youngsters laughed and squealed as they gave chase, both holding sticks as they
tried to catch the speedy animal.

Alfvin
broke the men’s silence. “There are other children; that is what makes me think
they are family groups.”

Eskil
gave a nod. “So you camped on the island and returned today?”

“Yes.”

“To
what end?”

Erik
spoke up. While anxious about the turn of events, he was also growing
uncomfortable with Eskil’s questions, feeling they revealed a critical edge
directed at Alfvin. “We took what we could to the island last night as darkness
fell, and while I wanted to leave at first light, for Godsland with our news,
Alfvin would not have it. He said we still needed to come back for some of the
gathered iron and tools, lest the skraelings take them.”

Eskil
eased his tone, “That is not bad thinking. So what did you find when you came
ashore in the morning, was anything stolen?”

Alfvin
did not seem bothered by Eskil’s previous tone; if anything, he seemed pleased
Eskil was taking the matter seriously. “We buried the bog iron and the more
valuable tools we could not take with us last night.”

“So
what did they do last night?”

“We
saw footprints and saw that things had been moved. Nothing looks to have been
taken.”

“I
wonder what would have happened if they had come and you had been asleep? Would
they have left you alone or killed you?”

Alfvin
shrugged. “We need this place, not solely for iron, but for the vale. We cannot
last on Godsland. We have already cut down all the good timber, and if Faraldr
returns with more of our own kind, the soils will never serve us.”

Eskil
agreed. “I know. What do you propose?”

“We
need to return here in numbers and stake a claim.”

“We
lack the numbers needed to take and hold a claim if we leave bad blood between
us and any who survive, should a war be fought. We need to reach some kind of
agreement.”

Alfvin
agreed. “Frae and Seta might be able to help.” He looked back across the vale
to the skraelings – the children still running, the adults still digging. He
sighed and added, “Well, if Seta has left us, we need Frae, at the very least.”

Torrador
bristled. “She has not left us; she will be back.”

Ballr
ignored the comment and answered Alfvin, “Perhaps we can split the vale with
them? We only need the land here for iron and some space for farming.”

Eskil
frowned. “For now.”

Torrador
offered, “Perhaps we could live side by side?”

Alfvin
nodded, thinking of Frae. “Or together.”

––––––––

T
hey
loaded both boats and set off back to Godsland, before midday. Alfvin and Erik
were on their own boat, the craft low in the water, weighed down by tools,
supplies, half the bog iron and some of the work’s specially cut timbers.
Beside their boat, the other also sat low as they rowed on. Eskil, Ballr and
Torrador carried their own gear, more bog iron and related equipment.

Alfvin
admitted he had been stockpiling some of the iron, keeping about a tenth of all
he produced buried and wrapped in skins. He hid it away in case he ever lost a
load or boat when heading back to Godsland. But now, with two boats and the
unknown of the skraeling arrival, this seemed like the time to share the load
and bring it all home.

Torrador
said little while they packed the boat, his mind clearly on other things. He
worked hard and quickly, but kept glancing across the water, down to where the
wider channel lay, looking at the last of the visible shoreline near where they
had left Seta.

Now
he stirred as the boats made for the main channel and near to that shore. He
raised his voice, calling out across the water to Alfvin and Erik, only a few
boat lengths away. “What did the skraelings say of the sickness?”

Eskil
and Ballr exchanged glances, the former turning to gauge the distance to Seta’s
shore.

Alfvin
looked to Torrador. He had been scanning the waterway ahead, his own gaze
resting on the distant Lakeland shoreline, the same as Torrador’s had on Seta’s
landing. After thinking back to what had been said, he answered, “I cannot be
certain of what they meant. The language seemed similar, but I do not know it
well, as you know.” Torrador had pestered Alfvin over the past season to teach
him the tongue so he could try to talk to Seta, although his progress had been
slow.

“I
understand, but what was said? They talked of death and you think they knew of
Lakeland and a killing sickness. Alfvin, is Seta safe, alone on that shore?”

Alfvin
looked down the channel to where Torrador indicated with a wave of his hand. He
shrugged. “I think they may know of someone who has suffered at the end of
Lakeland’s iron, but their real concern was of the malady. They knew of others
succumbing to the sickness and had also lost one of their own to it first
hand.”

Torrador
turned back and looked to the distant shoreline where they had landed with
Seta, his brow furrowed.

They
were now joining the main channel and beginning to head away from it, back
towards Godsland.

He
again asked Alfvin, “Do you think she is safe there?”

“I
think, for now, she is safe from Thoromr’s Lakeland–even if he survived his
wounds. What the skraelings back in Guldale spoke of mostly was the sickness
moving through their people’s camps. From what they said, it sounded like many
had gotten sick, with some dying. Seta may not be safe from such a plague, but
having said that, she had already been in Lakeland for a long while before
joining us at Godsland. Perhaps the sickness has already tried to touch her,
but cannot.”

Torrador
gave a nod of understanding and then turned back to the landing shoreline
fading in the distance.

Ballr
spoke up, tackling Torrador’s troubles head on. “She wanted to go alone.”

“Yes,
but now we know of an illness, and of people she knows nothing about.”

Alfvin
said, “Even if Thoromr is alive, he is not the danger. The Lakelanders will be
busy working the lands close to their hall, much like us.”

Torrador
challenged, “We are a long way out here!”

“The
only reason we are this far from Godsland is because it is our best source of
bog iron. If not for that, it would be late summer before we would have time to
range more, to explore and hunt.”

Torrador
reluctantly accepted his comment with a solitary nod.

Erik
offered, “The dangers to Seta are from animals and her own kind. The skraelings
of Markland seem quite peaceful, but who can say for certain.”

“And
the sickness?” Torrador asked.

Eskil
finally spoke, noting their speed was slowing as the conversation went on, and
their oar strokes seemed sapped of strength. “Alfvin is right. If the sickness
was going to claim her, it would have already had the chance in both Lakeland
and Godsland.”

Torrador
frowned, pulled his oar from the water and stopped rowing.

Eskil
asked, “Torrador?”

“I
will go to her.”

Now
it was Eskil’s turn to frown, but he knew he could neither deny nor fight
Torrador’s response. Besides, he would not stand in the way of Torrador while
he sought the same kind of happiness so few of the men and women at Godsland
were able to enjoy. He pulled his own oar from the water, followed by the
others. “I shall not stop you, but you know I believe we need to keep our
numbers together.”

“I
know, but she needs me also.”

“Think
carefully, Torrador.”

“I
am sorry Eskil, but I can feel it.”

“What
will you do when you find her?”

“Bring
her home, if she will come.”

“She
will come eventually. She will want her children.”

Torrador
nodded.

“How
will you get home?”

“We
will make our own way. I can build a raft easily enough to get us out on the
water, and then we will paddle down to Godsland.”

Eskil
called out, “Alfvin, am I right in saying you want to return to Guldale soon,
with Frae and more men, to claim the place?”

“Yes.
We need the iron and the land. Frae might be able to talk to the skraelings now
there, and see if we can live side by side or, at least, without blood. She can
win their trust.”

“When
do you want to return?”

“Quickly,
while the skraelings remain at their camp...in a few days.”

Eskil
turned back to Torrador. “We will check Seta’s landing site for you the day
after tomorrow, staying until not long before sunset. You have until then to
meet us, after which we shall head to Guldale to face the skraelings.”

Torrador’s
frown faded, replaced by a relieved smile. “Thank you.”

“I
want you there and ready. We will need you in Guldale.”

They
changed direction and got him ashore.

Eager
to start his journey, Torrador grabbed his pack and said his goodbyes before
heading into the woods.

––––––––

E
skil
and Ballr approached home alongside Alfvin’s and Erik’s boat, in the setting
sun, to find Godsland well and truly alive. The shoreline held their fellows as
a longship approached the shore from the direction of the sea. Gudrid stood
waving to the crew, not yet aware of her husband’s return from down the fjord
behind her.

Ballr
asked, “Faraldr?”

Eskil
began to row harder. “Let’s hope so, for we know him and his intent well
enough.”

“He
seems trustworthy.”

“Yes,
he does. And we need what he can provide; people, seed and livestock.”

Alfvin
smirked and added, “And women, one each for Erik and the others!”

Erik
grinned, the first time he had in days. “I hope so!” he then growled, “At least
one to start with!”

Ballr
laughed, doubling his efforts to get them home, digging his oar into the water
and pulling it back. “It must be Faraldr. Gudrid would greet no one else so
enthusiastically, except Eskil or Odin himself!”

Erik’s
earlier loud and hopeful agreement that it was Faraldr drew the attention of
those on the beach. So as the longship emptied its crew onto the gravel, all
noticed the approach of Godsland’s own, which had been lost in the glare of the
setting sun behind them.

The
ship was not alone on the beach when the two smaller boats from Guldale
arrived. The quiet of Godsland soon transformed with laughter, greetings and
embraces when the folk of the hall reunited and threw themselves into welcoming
Faraldr and the scores of men and women he had landed.

Eskil
found Gudrid striding through the chaotic throng, leading Faraldr by the hand.
“What a day!” he cried out in delight as he took Gudrid in his arms, Faraldr
grinning behind her.

Nearby,
Halla found Ballr, just as Frae sought Alfvin’s arms. About them the laughter
and talk fell into a cheer, as together the people gathered to celebrate either
the return of loved ones, a homecoming or a landing.

Eskil
smiled at Gudrid, but pulled away to bring her beside him as he turned to greet
Faraldr, “I am glad to see you!”

“And
we are glad to land, all of us! Some are settlers for here or elsewhere, and
others, like me, will return to Greenland after summer’s peak.”

“That
is great news!”

“I
also have someone I want you to meet.” He waved over a woman who had been
standing back and waiting for the summons. She moved across, her steps firm,
her face holding a hard beauty about it, her ice-blue eyes framed by long,
blonde hair. She also bore a likeness to the look of Faraldr.

When
she stepped beside him, he announced, “This is my sister, Aldis, recently
widowed when her husband was taken by the sea. She now comes to settle in lands
hereabout, to represent our family interests.”