Viking Gold (53 page)

When Running Deer finished, Deganawida
stood, made a little bow and shuffled away. “It is a great honour,” she said as
Redknee watched the old man’s retreating figure, “that he wanted to speak to
you.”

“Thank you. His words are
those of a true visionary,” Redknee said. Running Deer smiled and went to
rejoin Hawk in front of the fire.

Redknee slumped against the
tree trunk. Deganawida was right. This voyage, this quest for treasure, the
search for his father, had all been a waste of time … a distraction from the
real truth. He looked up at the canopy. The moonlight seemed far away through
the tangle of branches. He thought again about Deganawida’s words. Perhaps
there
had
been value in the journey precisely because it had failed ...

He watched as Astrid moved
through the crowd, a basket of seeds and nuts slung under her arm, offering
handfuls to whoever was hungry. It wasn’t like her to be so thoughtful. Perhaps
she’d caught the festive mood.

“Can I sit with you?”

Redknee looked up to see Toki
smiling at him.

“Do you remember what I said
that first time we came into this vast forest?” Toki asked.

“About how it could make a
man rich?”

Toki nodded. “Ragnar is going
home. Returning to the Northlands with his men.”

“I thought you were one of
Ragnar’s men.”

Toki laughed. “I’m my own
man, lad. Thought you knew that by now. And I knew your mother well … as a
friend. Which is why I’ve come to
you
with this idea.”

“Go on.”

“Ragnar is going to sail home
in his clunky, iron-clad ship. It’s an ugly thing, if ever there was. And it’s
slow and sits low in the water. He might allow you passage if you asked nicely
– you
are
a favourite of his daughter, after all. But I got to thinking,
Wavedancer
is a very different sort. She’s long and light in the water.
She won’t carry a lot of cargo – she isn’t a
knar
, but she would do for
exporting timber. The Greenlanders and Icelanders have none of their own – we’d
be rich as kings!”

Redknee scratched his head.
When they’d first arrived he’d wondered if Saint Brendan had meant the land
itself and its fruits when he talked about finding a great treasure. Certainly,
this island was vast, vaster still than
Iceland
or the
Sheep
Islands
combined. Perhaps something real and tangible
could
still be garnered from their voyage. Something more than a
lesson
.

“Come on,” Toki said, giving
Redknee a friendly punch on the shoulder. “How could we lose?”

The
feasting lasted well into the night. Redknee watched with Silver from the
sidelines as Hawk, filled with mead and rosy cheeked, went to Astrid and put
his arms round her waist. She tried to shrug him off, but he persisted. “I’m
sorry,” Hawk mumbled. “I did love you once—”

“I don’t want to hear it,”
she said.

“Come on – one kiss, for old
time’s sake. I’ve seen you watching me.” Hawk strained to press his lips to her
cheek as she fought to push him away, eventually giving up and allowing him to
plant his kiss. “There,” he said, “that wasn’t so bad.”

Astrid grimaced as Hawk
staggered away. Then she seemed to change her mind. “Wait,” she called after
him, placing her basket on the ground and fishing in her pouch. “Have something
to eat.”

Hawk smiled. “Don’t mind if I
do,” he said, taking the seeds from her and supplementing them with another
handful from the basket. Then he stumbled merrily into the throng, whistling a
jaunty tune Redknee recognised from home.

Bright
morning light shone on Hawk’s peaceful features. If he’d died in agony, Redknee
couldn’t tell. Running Deer knelt beside her husband’s body, weeping into her
apron while her father and brothers consoled her.

The events
of the night before were foggy in Redknee’s mind. The last thing he’d seen Hawk
do was kiss Astrid. Wait. He’d taken nuts from her basket. But
everyone
had eaten from it – and no one else felt ill, at least, no worse than to be
expected after a night-long celebration. Then he remembered. He turned to
Hiawatha.

“She did it,” he said,
pointing to Astrid. “She killed your son-in-law.”

Astrid’s face turned pale.
“No! I swear I didn’t.”

“Check her pouch,” he said.
“She keeps the poison in there.”

Crouching Bear grabbed Astrid
and handed the pouch she kept round her waist to Hiawatha, who emptied its
contents on the ground. Three black seeds, the size of peppercorns, fell out.
Wolfsbane.
Everyone gasped.

“Did you poison Thora and the
Bjornsson twins too?” Redknee demanded.

Astrid raised her chin in
defiance. “I swear I didn’t.”

“I
saw
you give these
to Hawk last night,” Redknee said.

“Only yesterday you thought Harold
poisoned Thora and the Bjornsson twins. Now you point the finger at me. It is
you
,
Redknee, who is hard to believe. Let us see what’s in your pouch.”

No one spoke; they just
stared at him with wide eyes. They couldn’t think he’d done it …
could they?

“This is mad,” Redknee said,
tipping his pouch upside down. “I had no reason to kill Hawk or any of the
others.” But as he finished speaking a large handful of black seeds, identical
to those from Astrid’s pouch, fell out. “Wait!” Redknee said, horror drying his
throat. “I know nothing about these!”

Thinking Owl whispered in
Hiawatha’s ear. When his son had finished, Hiawatha nodded.

“What did he say?” Redknee
asked.

Running Deer spoke between
sobs. “He says … that you were the last person my … my husband spoke to before
he bedded down for the night, before … before he was
murdered
.”

“What? But I saw him talking
to Astrid.”

“No one else saw that,”
Running Deer said quietly.

Toki pulled on Redknee’s arm.
“I think you should leave now. Before things turn nasty.”

“No,” Redknee said. “I’m
innocent. I want to prove it.” But as he looked round, only hard faces stared
back. He started to edge away. Maybe Toki was right, maybe he should run.

“Come on,” Toki said,
“remember what I said to you last night, how we can make our fortune. Let’s
go.”

Redknee held his hands up. “I
didn’t do this,” he said. “But I’ll leave now, if that’s what you want.” He
turned and went over to where Silver lay, still recovering beneath the White
Pine. Running Deer had saved the pup’s life, and now she thought he’d killed
her husband. With great weariness, he scooped Silver into his arms and set off
after Toki.

He’d gone no more than twenty
paces when he heard his name being called. He turned round. Sinead ran towards
him, her hood of copper curls bobbing between the trees. She had her big
leather bag with the shoulder straps in her hand.

“I don’t think you killed all
those people,” she said as she caught up with him.

“
Thanks
.”

“But I do think you should go
… there’s nothing for you here … with these people.”

“Nothing?”

Sinead glanced over her
shoulder.

“Won’t you come with me?” The
words were out before he could stop himself.

“You know I’m going back to
the Northlands with Ragnar.”

Redknee nodded.

“I can’t be your slave
forever, can I? I have a future with Ragnar, with his family. He knows King
Hakon. He wants me to marry his son, Prince Halfdan.”

Redknee tilted his head. “How
can I compete with that?”

Sinead laughed nervously.
“You can’t.”

“How do you know you’ll like
him?”

“I don’t. But being married
to a Prince must be better than milking cows, kneading bread, grinding corn and
emptying the cesspit.”

“Yes,” Redknee said, leaning
closer. He felt her warm breath on his face, “I suppose it must be.” Her lips felt
soft beneath his. He remembered their kiss, on the beach, under the stars. He’d
thought that would be the start of something …

“It wasn’t meant to be,”
Sinead said, pulling back, her eyes over-bright.

Redknee could only nod
mutely.

“Here,” she said, holding out
her bag. “It has a solid base, you can carry Silver in it until he’s better –
it will hold.”

She helped him tuck Silver
into the bag, which wasn’t easy as the pup kept trying to lick her face.
Eventually, with Silver bedded down safely, his white nose peeking out, Redknee
slung the bag over his shoulder, and, without a further word, turned and left.

If Sinead had run after him,
she would have seen his tears. But she didn’t. His only solace was the
occasional sad snuffling coming from the bag on his back.

Magnus
and a slightly wheezing Brother Alfred caught up with Redknee and Toki in the
forest. The steersman had heard of their plan to import timber to
Iceland
and
wanted to help. The little monk felt he still owed Redknee for saving him from
the Blood Eagle.

And so the five of them,
Silver stowed safely in Sinead’s knapsack, struck out for the coast. With each
step away from Ragnar Redknee felt more optimistic. He had a new plan. He would
make money as a trader, perhaps even petition King Hakon for Sven’s Jarldom.
Though he suspected Ragnar would try and get in a claim as part of a deal with
Prince Halfdan.

Redknee tried to push
Sinead’s marriage from his mind. It was less than a year since she’d come to
their village, and yet, he felt like he’d known her forever. Every time he
heard a crackle in the trees he would turn, half expecting it to be her, come
after him, just like she did that day so long ago when she’d tracked him up the
mountain. Of course, it was always just a wild deer or a bird taking flight.
Sinead would not follow him. Not now she had Ragnar. He doubted he’d ever see
her again.

At
the end of their first day’s trek, when Redknee opened the knapsack to let
Silver out and stretch his legs, he noticed something heavy at the bottom.
Sinead had said the base was reinforced, but this seemed something more. He
reached in, dislodged whatever it was and pulled it out. He stared at the
Codex
in puzzlement. Why had she given it to him?

He didn’t need it now they
were going home. Perhaps she just wanted rid of it? He thought about throwing
it away, for it was heavy to carry, but decided against it in the end – it
might
have value still.

Silver
seemed stronger, more alert on the fifth day. And when they stopped to eat lunch,
Redknee let him out to stretch his legs.

“How you’ve grown,” he said,
opening the bag on the ground. Instead of sniffing round for a few minutes then
lying down to sleep, Silver bounded off, tail wagging, into a thicket of
saplings.

Magnus laughed. “I hope you
haven’t lost your friend.”

Redknee hurried after him;
they were in an unfamiliar forest and Silver was still weak. He pushed through
the young trees and into a small clearing dappled with sunlight. He found he
could hear the distant rumble of the sea. They’d nearly made it back. Silver
must have heard the noise and thought there’d be gulls for chasing, a sure sign
he was getting better.

Redknee heard a movement
behind him. He spun round, ready to grab Silver into his arms, instead he came
face to face with a broad chest. He stood back.

“Thought you were dead, lad.”

Redknee stared up at Koll’s
smiling face. “Likewise,” Redknee said, throwing his arms round his friend.
Something squeaked and struggled between them. Redknee stood back. Koll had Silver
in his arms; the pup started licking Koll’s face with vigour. Redknee laughed.
“They told me you were killed by the Bear People.”

“
Hardly
. Nah, stabbed
a few of them in the guts after you ran off to rescue Sinead. Lots of Flint
People arrived; there was a bit of a scrap, then everyone started clearing out.
That’s when I lost you all. Thought the best thing to do was head back to the
longhouse at
Svensbyan
. But when I arrived, there was no one left.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. It was only a flesh wound.”

Redknee told Koll how Olaf
had agreed to help Ragnar find the treasure. Koll was sorely disappointed to
learn there was no treasure to speak of, but he didn’t seem surprised to learn
Ragnar was Sinead’s father.

“Why not?” Redknee asked.

Koll shrugged. “Because she’s
just about the most difficult woman I’ve ever met.”

“There’s one other thing,”
Redknee said, as they emerged from the forest and onto a wide, sandy beach.
“Harold is the traitor.”

“
That whelp!”

Redknee nodded. He could see the
longhouse in the distance, no more than a short walk away.