The United States of Vinland: The Landing (The Markland Trilogy) (12 page)

Alfvin
sighed, swallowed and then continued, “Thrainn charged into the hall while
bellowing a battle cry to vent his rage. Thoromr and Trion were right behind
him. Ari and I followed Leif, ready to do whatever was needed, with no real
idea of what we would face.

“By
the time we entered, Thrainn had already put his axe in the chest of a
skraeling man, and Thoromr had pushed another into the fire pit’s flames. The
hall was in an uproar. Sparks, burning coals and smoke were getting scattered
about, while at the back, the women we took as thralls cowered and screamed
beside a sick old man.”

“It
was over before Leif, Ari and I even got into the hall. The skraeling hit by
Thrainn’s axe died in moments, gurgling his last breath while his blood sprayed
about. The other one, knocked into the fire pit, died in terrible pain, and
sadly was not a man, but little more than a boy. The four women were terrified,
and cowered and screamed until Thrainn advanced on them.”

“Leif
called out to Thrainn to stop, but he was covered in blood and overcome by his
rage. The murderous warrior spun about to face Leif, who hurried up behind him,
but instead of talking, Thrainn simply planted his axe in Leif’s neck.”

Eskil
was stunned. “Thrainn killed Leif?”

Alfvin
shook his head, pale and still troubled by the tale. “It all happened so
quickly: One moment we were outside the hall, the next, inside, surrounded by
blood, screams and sparks. Thrainn’s kin were also stunned, but quickly moved
to back him, leaving us little choice but to accept events. Remember – all Ari
and I wanted was to get our wives to some warmth and shelter.”

Eskil
asked, “And that is when you took the women into thraldom?”

“Yes,
but first Thrainn used his axe to cut the old man’s throat in front of them,
despite them begging in their strange tongue for him to be spared.”

Eskil
winced and shook his head.

Alfvin
grimaced as he remembered what he had been part of. “It was a bloody business
with great dishonour, but we needed the shelter. Our women were dying, or so we
thought.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Aris
and I hurried back to our women to bring them in and lay them by the fire, but
when we got back to them, they were already dead.”

Eskil
despaired to hear such a thing, picturing the anguish and ruin in the Lakeland
men's hearts.

Alfvin
turned from Eskil and looked to the vale that beckoned just beyond the side of
the next low hill. “Enough of that. Come, we are nearly at a new land. Let us
go and see what it holds, for I long to leave the bitterness of Lakeland behind
me.

Eskil
nodded.

After
a few steps made in silence, Alfvin looked up to the clouded sky that currently
had them in shadow, and said, “We should have brought Gudrid.”

“Why?”

“For
whenever you are in need of the thing some might call luck, or others deem
divine favour, you have had her by your side.”

Eskil
smiled at the observation. “We have had our trials, but it is fair to say they
have not been as bloody as yours. Yes, it is true that Gudrid seems to be a
beacon for Asgard’s favour, but we have also worked hard to create much of our
good fortune.”

“What
do you mean?”

“We
talk about and plan what we want to do, considering how things might play out.
Having said that, as I struggled out of the surf on the shores of Godsland, to
watch the rain fade away, golden, in the mid-afternoon sun, to reveal a green
land ahead, I swore it was by the grace of none other than the Allfather, not
of luck or planning.”

They
were rounding the side of the last low hill, the green plain of the vale
already opening ahead.

Alfvin,
almost giddy, chuckled, and like Eskil beside him, had the sense that something
good lay beyond. “But Gudrid was there with you, even if you did not know it.”
They continued forward, the greens of the vale revealing a winding river and
thickets of trees along its banks. “And I think only saying her name is likely
to invite Odin’s favour.”

The
vale opened up before them as they continued on, the bottom of the valley
covered in pastures on either side of the river and dotted with groves of
trees. Then, it slowly rose into steeper slopes, where the woods thickened. The
area was wide and open, and farther on was the glint of more water. At the
sides, in some places, the hillsides gave way to bluffs that would offer
shelter and good visibility to the lands around it.

Alfvin
put a hand to Eskil’s shoulder as they emerged from the maze of the low hills
nursing the bogs. “Say her name with me.”

Eskil
looked to his fellow’s hand, to Alfvin, and then turned to the land beyond.

“Say
it, Eskil.”

Eskil
gave a single nod, and then, together, they whispered, “Gudrid.”

And,
in front of them, the clouds parted to bathe the vale in shafts of golden
light.

––––––––

T
hat
night, Eskil and Alfvin, wrapped in furs, lay in a sheltered spot on an island
opposite the vale. They ate a simple meal of dried fish and spoke excitedly,
particularly Alfvin, of the land they discovered. “Even if the marshes lack
much bog iron, with the number of them, I would think they must be worth working.
Of course, the best way to work them well would be to live closer. It would be
a great waste of time to travel so far to labour for a day or two, only to
return to Godsland.”

Eskil
nodded. He had been thinking the same thing.

They
had also walked into the vale, only over the plain and to the edge of the lake
they had seen. Even so, by the time they got back past the bog hills and to
their boat on the beach, dusk was setting in.

Eskil
admitted, “The land looks fit for farming and many things.”

“Yes,
it does.”

“I
do not want us to be spread too thin, but it looks like we need to consider
setting up a separate hall for those willing to come here, or perhaps to even
relocating all of us from Godsland.”

Alfvin
was pleased Eskil appreciated the site, but grimaced at the last suggestion.
“Gudrid will never leave the island. You know that.”

“Perhaps
not, but maybe she will not need to. Perhaps we should keep people there, but
move the bulk of us here. Godsland is limited, and we have already nearly
stripped the island of timber.”

“And
our numbers grow.”

“Yes,
they do, and they will only grow more.”

Halla
was likely to deliver any day, much to Ballr’s joy.

Alfvin
observed, “It is the way of things.”

Eskil
grinned. “Particularly if Ari and Seta provide the hall with more twins.”

Alfvin
laughed.

With
the man now at ease, Eskil dared to ask a personal question, “And you, Alfvin,
what of you and Frae?”

Alfvin
lost his enthusiasm, and became guarded. “What do you mean?”

“This
is your business and I do not wish to talk of things that do not concern me.
But I wonder if she is only your thrall or perhaps something more. What I mean
is if we talk of splitting our group to people two halls, one here and one in
Godsland, do we need to talk of such things as you and Frae staying together.
Is that what you would wish?”

Alfvin
was quiet for a moment, the silence awkward, but it passed when he finally
spoke, “Frae is my thrall; that is the way of things after Lakeland, but she
has also become a wife, of sorts. We talk. We have a child. We are together. I
want us to stay that way.”

Eskil
nodded. “I am glad to hear it; that she gives you some joy and comfort after
all that has happened.”

“She
does.”

“Do
you mind speaking of this?”

“It
is not what I would normally talk of, but if you have another question, go on.
I can always tell you to stop.”

“Would
you go as far as giving her back her freedom from thraldom or taking her as a
wife?”

“To
what end?”

“So
she would be an equal, of sorts, and have a proper place amongst us.”

“Why?”

“So
she can choose to stay with us and work to make Godsland thrive. So we can
trust her.”

Alfvin
looked out across the fjord’s dark waters. “I would need to think on that, but
perhaps.”

“Perhaps
which?”

“Both.
I think I would give her back her freedom and take her as my wife. She is
foreign, and we do not understand all that is said between us, but she is warm
and sincere.”

“I
am pleased you would consider marrying her.”

“Now
that you have said what you want to achieve, I will add that I think she is
already trustworthy.”

“Good.
I think you may be right.”

Alfvin
was quiet for a moment as he turned over his thoughts. “Yes, I think I would
take her as a wife, not only because I would be without a woman if I gave her
freedom, or because one of the other men might marry her, but because I have
grown fond of her.”

“Think
on it and tell me if you can make a decision.”

“I
will.”

They
sat in silence for a long, awkward moment. Finally, Alfvin asked, “There’s
more, I can feel it; ask your question.”

“What
of Ari? If I asked him the same question, what answer would he give?”

Alfvin
laughed aloud. “You have been able to get away with this conversation with me,
but I do not think Ari would have it. He would see it too much as prying.”

Eskil
chuckled, because he was right.

“He
has treated Seta well since Lakeland, but they are both distant people. I do
not know if any real warmth exists between them, or if they are merely doing
what they must and making the most of their situations.”

“I
see.”

“Let
me think on my own answer and then talk to him. Whatever I do will also affect
him.”

––––––––

F
rae
looked to the pile of pelts in the corner of the hall, a mix of grey, brown and
black, some solid in colour, others mottled. They came in all sizes, but most
were small. All had their time drying in the sun on one of the summer racks
after the brothers Steinarr and Samr had brought them in. The first two frames,
now emptied, the furs and skins ready for working. Frae glanced at Seta, who
stood by her side, looking at their future toil. In her own tongue, she said,
“What do we need most; rugs or clothes?”

Seta
did not smile, but then, she rarely did. Instead, she stepped forward to check
a few off the top of the pile as she lifted them. “Leave the bigger ones.
First, we need boots and then clothes. If we have warm clothes, we can sleep in
them if we must.”

Frae
gave a nod, a smile coming to her face, as predictably as Seta’s remained cold.
“Yes, boots.”

“Ari
needs boots.”

Frae’s
smile widened. “Alfvin, too.” She stepped forward and started sorting the pelts
into piles, based on size and thickness.

Seta
joined her.

They
worked a while, without talking, until Seta mumbled in their own tongue, “Ari
needs good boots but all the men will need them.”

Frae
asked, “How is Ari?”

“What
do you mean?”

“Alfvin
is kind, more so since we left Lakeland.”

“Ari
is also kind, but he was always more gentle than the giant.”

“Thrainn
was an animal; he deserved death.” Frae hissed. “But I worry for our cousins.”

“I
worry, too. Soon enough the snows will return and they will be stuck in that
hall with those men, all through winter.”

Frae
said, “I still remember when they burst in; Thrainn yelling, and then putting
that axe into your husband’s chest.”

Seta
nodded, her eyes softening with the memory. “Thoromr and Trion followed behind
and shoved young Dorek into the fire,” her words trailed off for a moment,
tears interrupting her, but she continued, “Dorek’s screams still haunt me.”

Frae
put a hand to her arm. “Dorek is gone now. Thoromr is not only an animal, as
Thrainn was, but also something worse. He is a monster like a wild bear. How
anyone could not only throw someone into a fire, but then hold them down
against the embers, is beyond cruel.”

Seta
put down the fur she was holding and wiped at her tears. “And Trion simply stood
there and laughed at Dorek’s suffering. Both Thoromr and Trion are monsters. We
are lucky to have escaped that hall and to be treated much better here, but I
still want to be free to go.”

“Back
to our own people?”

“If
we could find them, but we know most of our family is dead, the men by
Thrainn’s and Thoromr’s own hands. And we will never know what happened out in
the woods before our first winter at the hall; we can only guess. Thrainn came
home with his axe and clothes coated in blood too many times.”

“Yes,
and we never saw meat, so whatever he killed was not for eating.”

Seta
nodded, her face grim.

“Have
you ever asked Ari?”

“No,
we talk now, but not much, and never about what happened at the other hall.”

Frae
frowned. “I will ask Alfvin. He might not like the question, but he will not
hit me for asking.”

“Do
you talk to him about when they first came to us?”

“We
never talk of those first few days. I think he is ashamed.”

“They
would have died without us, even if they had found the hall empty.”

Frae
agreed. “I think that is what hurts them most of all, knowing that without us,
they would have perished.”

“Lakeland
is a very different hall to here. At least here I feel safe.”

Frae
agreed. “Eskil leads, but with a gentle hand.”

The
hall door creaked behind them, having already been open to let the daylight and
breeze in. The women turned.

Little
Ulfarr stood there, steadying himself. Ulfarr turned and looked to the women,
his face lighting up as he saw them. After a moment, he pushed off the door and
walked with unsteady steps towards them.