Runestone (62 page)

“It is good!” cried Calling Dove, clapping her hands like an excited child. “A beautiful thing!”

“May we ride in it, Father?” asked Bright Sky, as he stood with the daughters of Odin.

“Not now,” Nils told them. “We have a few small leaks. We will fix those, and next time we launch her, yes! We will all go.”

They drew the canoe up on the bank and turned it over to dry in the sun. Svenson stepped over and gave his wife a quick hug.

“Ah, Fawn, she is a fine craft,” he told her. “You will see!”

   Nils sat that evening, staring at the coals of the dying fire for a long time. Dove came to sit beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was silent for a long time. The fire made little crackling noises, and from downriver a night bird called.

“What is it, my husband?” she asked.

“What is what?” he asked. “The bird?”

“No, no. I spoke of you. You are troubled?”

Nils was startled. He had been so deep in thought that it had not occurred to him that anyone else might notice.

“No, not troubled. I was only thinking.”

“Of what, Wolf?”

“Of, many things … the canoes …”

She had realized that this must have something to do with the canoe. He had not been quite the same since they returned from the river after the trial run. But she knew him well. When he was ready, he would talk to her, so she merely snuggled closer against the chill of the night. He reached to toss another stick on the fire. Most of the People had retired to the longhouses, and the village was quiet.

“Are the children asleep?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She wanted to ask him to come in and join her in the
sleeping robes, but felt that he had something that he must think on, so she waited, staring with him into the bright glow of the fire.
What is it?
she wondered.
What does he see in the fire?
And the answer came to her:
He is thinking of his people, his home. … The canoe has done this!

For a moment, she felt a wave of resentment. Of anger, almost. Was this to come between them? Maybe she could destroy the canoes. Then the situation struck her has ludicrous. Could she have actually felt a pang of jealousy against a
boat?
The thought flitted through her mind that the Norsemen
do
think of their boats as female.
No! This is stupid
, she told herself. There were things that she could do for him that a boat certainly could not. It would help if he would come to bed.

But this was not unpleasant, to share his warmth and that of the fire, with his buffalo robe drawn around the shoulders of the two of them.

“I am sorry,” he said suddenly. “I was thinking of my people.”

Ah, I was right
, she thought. A touch of fear crept into her consciousness.
In what way? Is it now that he will leave?

She hesitated to phrase it, even in her thoughts, but her fear was becoming quite real. Now that he had the boats, would he some day soon decide that it was time to go home?

Hot tears filled her eyes, and she hoped that he would not notice as they overflowed and slid down across her cheeks. She was glad for the darkness as the flames died.

He stirred and stretched his legs in front of him, preparing to rise.

“Come, let us go bed,” he said.

At least
, Dove thought,
I have him for now
.

This was an advantage that she must not overlook. If she could make his life pleasant enough, he might not
want
to leave.

C
alling Dove might have been even more concerned if she had known her husband’s actual thoughts. He was not thinking so much of his people and his home as he was of the geography of this place. The river, it appeared, was flowing in a southerly direction. The smaller streams that they had seen in their travels for the past year had done the same.

Gradually, an idea was forming in his mind, a general idea of the configuration of this great land, that which they called Vinland. The Norsemen had crow-hopped across the Atlantic, colonizing as they went. Eric the Red, fleeing from the law, had done so. His sons, Leif and Thorwald, had continued the push westward. Iceland, Greenland, Newfoundland, Vinland … It was only now, however, that Nils had begun to see the immensity of this Vinland. It must be much larger than Greenland, even. He had doubted the stories of the People at first, that the land stretched westward a lifetime’s travel. After all, stories are meant to be exaggerated. But here, it seemed, all things were bigger than the story. The immensity of the inland seas of fresh water had not been fully realized. The land, too … Vast stretches of mountains and prairie, reaching on westward forever, it seemed.

Nils had begun to ponder the stories of nations and clans that they encountered. They
still
talked of the wider lands to the west. No one they had seen knew where it might end.

And now, this river. He had noted as they traveled a slight rise, or divide, between the lakes and the rolling plain to the south. There were small streams flowing northward, but mostly, the watershed seemed to be to the south. These streams, then, must flow into a large body of water somewhere in that direction. He had considered what it might be.
More of these strange freshwater seas? It was possible, of course. Anything was possible, it seemed, in this land so different from anything known in Europe. However, it seemed unlikely to him. He was certain that they had crossed a divide, and that the watershed where they now camped was sloping south. South,
away
from the freshwater seas, and probably back to the ocean.

What was needed, he knew, was a map or chart of some sort. The impression that the river had made on him was greater than he realized, and he found himself thinking in terms of navigation. He knew that they had traveled quite a distance to the south. The position of the Polestar said so. He had paid less attention to it for the past year or two. He had been preoccupied with the problems of the People, and with the delights of watching his son grow and learn.

Now, however, the river had quickened his seafaring blood. He had almost forgotten the uneasiness that he had felt when he first saw it. No longer did he wonder what lay in its dark channels. He was amused, almost, that he had felt that dread. It was certainly inappropriate for a seafarer. A river, especially one of this size, is a highway to the sea, and its pull was becoming stronger. Maybe the canoes, too, were a factor. Give a boatman a boat, and it opens the world to him. And, though these canoes were intended primarily to help the People in crossing this watery barrier, he began to see other possibilities.

“Sven,” he asked, “do you still have your charts?”

The sailor looked a bit startled, and somewhat apologetic. “Yes,” he answered tentatively. “I have not kept them up. You want to see them?”

“Yes. I would talk with you of this, Sven. This river flows south, no?”

“Of course.”

“And where does it go?”

Svenson shrugged. “Back to the sea.”

Nils was startled by that answer. The sailor had not said “to the sea,” but “
back
to the sea.” This would suggest that Sven, too, felt something of the pull to explore the waterway.

“Do you remember,” Nils went on, “how some of those at Straumfjord were talking of how big this Vinland might be?”

Sven nodded, puzzled, but said nothing.

“Karlsefni thought it might even be a new continent,” Nils went on. “Maybe it is.”

“It seems so,” Svenson agreed. “But what—”

“Let us look at your charts,” Nils suggested.

Svenson fumbled among his belongings and came out with the birchbark maps. The two men withdrew to a quiet place and Sven opened the bundle.

“I have not made an entry since before we saw the lake at Mishi-ghan,” Svenson admitted.

“No matter. I wanted only the bigger picture. Let us align it with north.”

Quickly, with the use of the sun-stone, the map was oriented and they began to study its features.

“The river would be about here, no?” asked Nils.

“Yes, off the map, there.”

“Let us put it on the sand, here, to draw a little more.” He picked up a stick. “Now, here would be Mishi-ghan, at about the edge of your map, no?”

“Yes,” Svenson answered, “about there.”

“And let us draw in where we think the coast might be.”

“To the south?”

“No, the east. Straumfjord is here, no?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And we know something of that coastline. The Ericksons have sailed southward along the coast, have they not?”

“Yes, Thorwald said—” Sven began.

Nils motioned him to silence, now warming to the excitement of his theory.

“So, they will be exploring in this direction. The coastline runs southwestward as far as they had sailed.”

“Yes …” Svenson agreed, beginning to understand.

“Now, if we follow this river, it will lead to the sea. The Ericksons will be exploring around the coast, trading—”

“Nils, it has been six years!” Sven sputtered.

“All the better! They will have colonies. Maybe at the mouth of this very river. They could sail a longship this far upstream, even. We might meet them!”

Svenson was staring in openmouthed astonishment.

“You want to go
down
this river?”

“Why not? We have the canoes. It would be an easy thing. Float along … Sven, I am made to think that this river is our way home!”

“But … but Nils, what if they are
not
there?”

Nils shrugged. “No matter. We follow the coast northeast. Somewhere, we will meet our people. Sven, they must have more colonies by now. Leif is as anxious to colonize as Thorwald is to explore.”

“That is true,” Sven agreed, beginning to catch the excitement of the grandiose idea. “But we do not know how far.”

“Of course. But we can reach the sea without much effort. And think … We can hand Thorwald Erickson a chart of the interior!”

Both chuckled. That in itself would be a crowning achievement. Yet Svenson still had reservations.

“But Nils, your family …”

“We
take
them. Look, Sven, we have two canoes. Each can carry five or six people and their baggage. Some goods to trade, maybe. You and I, Odin and his family … we need him to help with languages.”

“You have spoken to Odin of this?”

“No, the idea is new to me, too. I have said nothing to Calling Dove, even.”

“You had best do that, my friend,” Sven chuckled. “But yes, I think this thing could be done. Had you thought of when?”

“No. But the People plan to cross the river as soon as the weather opens up. The Moon of Greening, maybe?”

“Probably. As soon as the ice clears the river.”

“Good. We could help get everyone across, and then start downriver in the canoes. We would be heading into warmer climate, and would have all season to reach the ocean. Sven, we can do this!”

Svenson was becoming more enthusiastic, but had a few reservations.

“Nils, before we launch this trip, we must talk to the women and to Odin. What if they do not want to go?”

Nils thought for a moment. “Let us talk to Odin first. We can see if he thinks this could be done.”

It was not yet evening when Nils drew the Skraeling aside
and briefly explained their theory. Odin’s one eye widened with wonder.

“You have talked with Dove about this?”

“No … I …”

“You would leave your
family?”

“No, no, Odin. We would all take our families.”

“Oh. That is different, then. Maybe … yes, it could be done.”

“To the sea?”

“Yes. The Hidatsa have talked to people who say there is a salty sea to the south.”

“I knew it!” Nils exclaimed triumphantly. “It
can
be done! Will you help us, Odin?”

Odin appeared lost in thought for a little while. “Yes,” he said finally. “But this is a very big thing, Wolf. We must go slowly, talk with our wives. There is a little time before we must decide. But yes, I will go. Your people were good to me. And I am made to think this can be done.”

Nils’s enthusiasm was tempered somewhat by Odin’s remark, “Your people were good to me.” He was a bit embarrassed at his own feelings when they first met. He had considered the Skraeling as a lower-class being than himself, a, sort of half-human barbarian. The others at Straumfjord had had even less regard for the Skraelings. Now this man was one who had not only saved his life repeatedly, but who was a friend. Possibly, Nils thought, the best friend that he had ever had.

“So,” Odin went on, “let us talk with the women. We will speak of it later.”

They rose to go back toward the longhouse, and Odin spoke again.

“Does Fire Man know of this?”

“Yes. We decided to talk to you and then to the women.”

“It is good. This could be a great quest, Wolf.”

Nils smiled. He could see that this was beginning to stir Odin’s imagination, too. His own excitement was mounting, and he was becoming more confident of ultimate success.

He did not know, of course, that Thorwald Erickson had been killed in a battle with Skraelings some years before, that
the colony at Straumfjord had been abandoned, and that Leif Erickson had seriously curtailed his explorations.