Runestone (63 page)

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Authors: Don Coldsmith

BOOK: Runestone
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More important than any of these facts, however, was one that he did not even suspect. The great river that appeared to be their highway home led not into the ocean traversed by the Norsemen, but into the southern gulf.

70

O
nce the decision was made, the period of waiting began. It was easy for Nils to become impatient. The People with their easygoing ways settled in for the winter quite comfortably, but it was harder for him to do so. Up to a point, he could adopt the day-to-day attitude of his wife’s people, but this was different.

He began to wonder how he had managed to refrain from such impatience for the past few years. The possibility of returning to the sea and maybe even on to his native land was a stimulating thing. Though he did not realize it at the time, it may have been the journey itself, not the goal, that inspired his excitement. It was a wonderful vision that now challenged his imagination. He could imagine a gathering of ships’ masters back in Stadt. He had listened sometimes as a boy, while the older men told tales of the sea. But there had been none that could even approach the tale he and Svenson could tell now. They would have maps and charts of the great inland waterways, and of the river by which they had returned to the sea. They would proudly introduce their families. It would also be good to watch Calling Dove and her mother as they discovered all the miraculous things of the modern world.

Odin had not yet decided whether he and Hawk Woman would go on to the home of the Norsemen or not. There were
the two girls to consider, ages six and nine. Their presence might complicate such a journey beyond acceptable limits. Hawk Woman was reluctant.

“We will see,” Odin said cautiously. “If we find that this can be done, then will be time to decide.”

This, of course, was logical. Odin had the ability to see beyond the immediate, acquired from bitter experience. Nils found it interesting that Odin had no hesitation at all about the journey itself. He had only a reservation about what course to take at the other end.

“We are traveling anyway,” Odin explained. “This is only a change in direction. If there are problems, we can return to the People.”

Yes
, Nils reflected,
I had not thought of that
. But if, for any reason, the voyage downriver seemed not to be practical, they, too, could turn back. Even if it had been a season or two, they could return to wherever the People had decided to settle.

That, too, was a matter that was much discussed that winter. There was a general feeling that once across the great river, the People should begin to look for a permanent site on which to build. Maybe this was far enough to go, and it was time to put down roots again. That, of course, would make it easier to rejoin the People if it became necessary. Nils wasted little time on such a thought, but it was there, to be noted in passing.

One thing that was noted this winter was that there seemed to be less snow in this area. There were discussions around the fires. Younger people felt that this might be only normal variation from one season to the next.

“No, I am made to think not,” said old Clay, the holy man. “The snow is not nearly so deep here, or for the last two winters.”

“Do you think this is because we are farther south, Uncle?” asked Nils.

The old man looked at him in mild surprise, and took a puff or two on his pipe before answering.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “but maybe not. There is not so much water here. Cold Maker likes ice.”

Nils thought of the ice-giants of his own mythology, and it seemed logical enough. It takes water to make ice, so in terms
of a mythical being who depends on ice, it was much the same. The remarkable thing was the similarity of the two stories.

“You think, Uncle, that this is why the snow is not so deep here?”

Clay’s eyes twinkled as he shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? But it is not. That is enough for me.”

Nils smiled. He was thinking of a saying that he had heard somewhere, about looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yes, it is good, no?” he asked.

Still, the questions lingered in his mind. Was the climate changing as they moved westward? How much effect did latitude have as they moved southward? And the lakes … was Clay’s suspicion valid, that water
brings
snow? He realized that he might never know for sure. Some day, someone might.

There were snows, of course, some driven by icy winds and drifting enough to become a nuisance. Still, this was not as bad as many winters that they had experienced in their own country. And the ice on the river was never quite frozen solidly enough to attempt a crossing on foot. The People ventured to walk on the ice near the shore, but farther out it became less trustworthy, and to be avoided. It was only two seasons ago that a tragedy had occurred.

Three small boys had been playing on the ice. As the lone survivor related the story, the other two had been challenging each other, to see who could go farthest out onto the frozen water. They became more daring, even as the ice began to speak in musical creaking tones. He had not seen a crack appear, but suddenly one of his friends plunged through into the icy water and disappeared. The second ran to help him and another fracture claimed him, too. The sobbing boy who told the story related how he had screamed and run for help. Men came running with ropes and poles, but there was no sign of the victims. The river’s current and Cold Maker’s chill had claimed their victims.

The People had become more cautious about the treacherous ice of the frozen rivers. There seemed no doubt that something was different about the climate here.

   Nils and Calling Dove talked often of the coming journey. She had misunderstood at first. He had started to explain to
her what he had in mind when he noticed that her eyes were filled with tears. She was trying to choke them back, with little success.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned.

“You are telling me that you are leaving me?”


What?
No, no, Dove. I … oh, no!”

“But the canoes … the river … you said—”

“Dove, I would not do that. I want to be with you!”

She brightened for a moment, but then showed concern again. “Then you are
not
going?”

“Yes … that is, I want to go, if you will come with me.”

He had not decided what to do if she refused, and her manner concerned him greatly. But only for a moment.

“Oh!” Dove said, wiping her eyes. “Of course. Who else is going?”

“The others are talking of it, too. Your brother and Hawk; Fire Man and Fawn. The children, of course,”

She gave him the smile that could always cure any ill for him, solve any problem. He had not seen that smile recently, he recalled. He was confused for a moment before the truth dawned on him, and then a great sadness swept over him. Had she actually believed? …

“You thought I would
leave
you?” he blurted.

She did not answer immediately, but her tears told the story, coming now with a rush, in a mixture of laughter and crying. He gathered her in his arms.

“I … I thought maybe—” she stammered.

“Ssh … No, no, Dove,” he crooned, holding her close. “I would not—” he broke off, unable to speak further.

Now they were both laughing and crying all at once, and holding each other tightly. Finally she pulled away and brushed the tears from her face.

“It is good,” she giggled, “Tell me now, Wolf, how it is to be, this great adventure.”

Nils warmed to his subject, telling her of his theories about the river and its course, of the trading voyages of the Erick-sons, and how he expected to meet his people on the coast.

“I do not understand the big canoes,” she said. “My brother says they have wings?”

He tried to explain the use of sails, and found that Dove grasped the idea quickly.

“Yes,” she said, “it is easier in a canoe, to go with the wind than against it.”

“Right! And if you held up a robe, it would go faster!”

“But what if there is no wind, Wolf?”

“Then they wait. But there are long paddles. Men can use those.”

Dove nodded. “I will know more when I see it. But tell me, you want to go away in this big canoe?
All
of us?” She smiled as she spoke the last, now much more confident.

“Well, yes. I would want to show you my home, where I was a child. I want my people to see my beautiful wife, and our good son.”

She laughed again. “It would be good for him to see these things, Wolf. And for me. But what if your people are
not
there, at the salty water?”

“Then we come back, up the river. Find the People again.”

“You make it sound very easy,” she chuckled.

“A little harder to paddle upstream,” he admitted. “But we have done harder things.”

“Yes, that is true. So what is needed now?”

“To wait until the Awakening, mostly. Then we use the canoes to help the People cross the river. Then, start.”

“We will need food, extra garments. …” she mused.

“Yes, some. We can hunt as we travel.”

“It is good!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet with finality. “I will talk to Hawk and to my mother. We will begin to prepare for the journey.”

She walked away, happy now. He could tell by the strength of her stride. He marveled once again at the way a woman speaks with her body. The swing of her hips can express her mood. Anger, frustration, happiness, sorrow, or the joy and seductiveness of life itself. He admired the graceful curves of her body, and was reminded once more how very fortunate he had been to find such a woman. There was a slight pang of guilt that he had caused her to have doubt and sorrow. Even though it had been unintentional, he regretted having brought her pain. But she now understood, and was happy again, and that was good.

• • •

Preparations began immediately. At least, discussion did. There was plenty of time, the whole winter, almost. But the three women began to talk of the great adventure.

The children, too, were excited. Their enthusiasm lessened somewhat when they realized that the proposed departure was several moons away. Bright Sky and the two daughters of Odin and Hawk Woman became celebrities in their circle of friends. There were many children who envied them this opportunity for great adventure. Some, of course, were jealous, and tried to raise doubts.

“What if you are all swallowed by a great fish?” asked Blue Feather, one of their playmates.

“My father would not allow it,” Bright Sky retorted. “Anyway, there are not fish like that in the river!”

“But what about downstream, or at the salty water? You do not know, Sky. And maybe not fish, but other creatures. Remember the stories of some of the people we visited last season? Giant lizards? Arrgh!”

He made a horrible grimace and spread his fingers, claw-like.

“Stop!” demanded Sky. “If there is much danger, we would not be going. Anyway, my father and Odin are great warriors, and holy men besides. Fire Man, too! Their gifts are strong.”

“Do not listen to him, Sky,” said Oak Leaf, Hawk’s daughter by her first marriage. Oak Leaf was two years older, and was already mothering the younger two who would be going in the canoes. She turned to young Blue Feather.

“Let them alone,” she warned. “You will have me to answer to!”

Blue Feather might be jealous, but he was not stupid. He wanted no part of such an argument. He turned away, disgruntled.

“Well,” he shot back over his shoulder, “there might be monsters!”

Oak Leaf took a step toward him, and he quickened his pace.

“I am going,” he protested. “I only said there
might
be!”

• • •

Nils had watched and listened to this entire exchange, unseen. It was amusing to see the children as they worked out their differences. These were certainly three capable youngsters. Good to have on such a journey. Oak Leaf had certainly put down the boy who was teasing. That one was like her mother, Hawk, and was not to be trifled with. He admired the women of the People for this quality, much like that of the Norse women.

He turned away, still unseen, a half-forgotten thought still in his head. What had the boy Blue Feather said?
You do not know
, suggesting unknown monsters in the lower river. Nils shrugged it off, or tried to do so. But that old nagging doubt, born when he first saw this river, came creeping back.

Nonsense!
he told himself. Had he not braved the perils of the North Sea with its great whales and other unknowns? Yes, and bested it, too.

71

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