Authors: Miriam Minger
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Medieval, #General, #Viking, #Historical Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance
She knew that he had informed Olav and his hand-picked
crew during a secret meeting the night before of his plan to defy Haarek Jarl.
He had decided it was only fair to give them a choice. They could
either stay on in Norge and
serve under his uncle, who would
take over his settlement, or man his longship and help him carry out his plan,
with full knowledge that any who followed him would also be branded as traitors.
But down to the last crewman, they had all sworn to remain with their
chieftain, fierce loyalty blazing in their eyes.
Hakon had then seen to it that extra provisions were
loaded onto the ship —food, fresh water, and most important, his own private
hoard of gold and silver to use for trade. It had been done under the cover of
darkness in the early hours of the morning so as not to alert any of the other
warriors in the settlement to his plan. He had not rested until he was
satisfied that all was securely loaded and in readiness for their departure
later that morning, with enough supplies stocking the cargo well to see their
way to Dublin . . . and even farther if need be.
Only then had Hakon made his way back to his hall.
Anora had subtly offered earlier that evening to sleep on a pallet in the main
room, so he and Gwendolyn could share his chamber during their last night at
the settlement. Gwendolyn had lain awake in the wide bed for what seemed like
hours, waiting for him. But when at last he had walked into the room, they had
both been so exhausted that they were content simply to lie in each other's
arms until the morning dawned.
Yet perhaps last night had been the sweetest of all
their nights together, Gwendolyn thought warmly. Hakon had cradled her in his
arms, softly stroking her silky hair and murmuring tender words of love, until
she had been lulled into a deep sleep by the steady beating of his heart.
A great flock of
white sea
birds suddenly startled Gwendolyn as they flew over the longship, their shrill
cries breaking into her thoughts. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked
up at them, watching as they soared high into the endless expanse of blue sky,
then one by one dove back down to the surface of the fjord in search of fish
for their morning meal. Some of the birds carried their wriggling catch to
their nests along the rocky slopes towering above the fjord, where hungry
mouths were waiting to be fed.
Gwendolyn sighed. So much had changed since that first
journey along the Sogn late last year. Yet it really did not seem so long ago
that she had envied the soaring freedom of the sea birds. She shook her head,
smiling. Nay, she did not have to envy them any longer.
She looked over at Anora. Her beautiful sister was
still leaning on the railing of the ship, breezes blowing through her shining
hair. Her emerald eyes were dancing with excitement, her cheeks blushing rosily
with exhilaration. No doubt Anora was thinking of Wulfgar, and their
long-awaited reunion.
Aye, so far their prayers had been answered, Gwendolyn
thought gratefully. She smiled as she recalled Anora's expression of stunned
surprise the day before, when she and Hakon had ridden together into the
settlement on his spirited stallion. Her sister must have guessed at once the
reason for the vibrant happiness in her eyes, for as soon as she had
dismounted, Anora embraced her warmly. And after hearing about Hakon's plan,
she had wholeheartedly agreed to give Gwendolyn's message to their father,
assuring him that all was well and that it was her choice to stay with Hakon.
Gwendolyn leaned back against the curved side of the
longship and closed her eyes. She basked in the warmth of the golden rays of
sunshine heating the wooden deck. The rhythmic sound of the oars slicing
through the water and the gentle slapping of the waves against the hull were
soothing. A wave of relaxed contentment washed over her.
***
"Two warships off the port bow!"
Gwendolyn's eyes flew open at the sound of Hakon's
voice. She leaned forward, stretching her slim arms above her head. Surely they
had not reached the mouth of the Sogn already, she thought dazedly. She jumped
up and ran over to the railing, gasping in surprise. The vast ocean was
stretched out before them, as far as the eye could see.
Stunned, Gwendolyn realized she must have slept for
several hours. She looked around her. Obviously Anora had decided to take a
nap, too, for she could see her sister's leather slippers peeking out from the
opening of the tent Hakon had erected for them near the cargo well. She ran
over to the tent and tugged at one small foot.
"Anora, wake up! We have reached the ocean!"
she exclaimed excitedly.
Anora sat up in the tent, yawning and rubbing her eyes
sleepily. "The ocean?" she murmured, taking Gwendolyn's proffered hand
as she was helped to her feet. "I must not have slept very well last night
on that pallet, for when I saw you dozing
off,
I could
not resist lying down myself."
But Gwendolyn did not hear her sister's words. Her eyes
were fixed on the two warships fast approaching them from the direction of a
green stretch of land jutting out from the mouth of the fjord. She gazed at
them, a tremor of fear coursing through her. Were these the two warships Hakon
had spoken of, the ones they would attempt to outsail when they reached
England? She had never seen anything like them before! They were huge vessels,
both at least ninety feet long; they were wider and lower in the water than
Hakon's longship. Yet they cut swiftly through the choppy waves, their purple
sails billowing in the stiff breeze.
Without thinking, Gwendolyn suddenly left Anora's side
and hurried toward the dragon-headed prow of the ship, where Hakon stood. She
quickly made her way along the narrow aisle between the rowing benches with
practiced ease, nimbly dodging the coiled ropes lying here and there on the
deck.
"My lord, are those Haarek Jarl's warships?"
she called out breathlessly.
Hakon whirled around and looked down at her with
surprise. His startling blue eyes narrowed angrily. He had been so engrossed in
watching the ships that he had not heard her walk up behind him.
"Go back to your sister, Gwendolyn, and get inside
the tent until I tell you both to come out. Now go, at once! Haarek Jarl's men
must not see us standing here together!" he said tersely. His grim
expression boded no resistance. "Go!"
Stunned and hurt by his tone, Gwendolyn nonetheless
realized the folly of her rash action. She turned on her heel and quickly made
her way back along the aisle, avoiding the disapproving glances from Hakon's
men. Grabbing her sister's arm, she pulled her back into the tent. Anora opened
her mouth to protest at this rough treatment, but Gwendolyn silenced her with a
finger raised to her lips.
"Shh! Anora, be still! Hakon bade us to wait
inside the tent," Gwendolyn whispered, her heart beating fast. God's
blood! If she had ruined the plan . . . She shook her tousled head fiercely.
Nay, she would not even think of it!
Suddenly a man's gruff voice could be heard shouting
out something to Hakon from one of the warships. Gwendolyn lifted up the
leather flap covering the entrance so they could hear
better
.
"Listen!" she hissed. "They must be right off the port side!"
Gwendolyn leaned out just a little from the tent so she
could catch the man's words. "He says his name is Thorolf Skallgrimsson .
. . and that he has been charged by Haarek Jarl to accompany Hakon's longship
to England." She leaned forward again, listening. "It sounds like he
wants to see we are both aboard the ship!"
Her words were confirmed as heavy footsteps sounded
across the wooden deck, moving swiftly toward the tent. Hakon suddenly threw
back the flap, and crouched down, facing them.
"'Tis as I feared," he muttered, looking from
one to the other. His expression was grim. "Haarek Jarl has sent one of
his most ruthless warriors to see that his orders are obeyed. But we shall
proceed as planned. Come out now, both of you. Though I have told Thorolf that
you are safe, he wants to see for himself."
Hakon first helped Anora from the tent, then Gwendolyn.
He kept his voice low as he addressed her. "You must stay away from me for
the rest of the journey, my love, though I would wish it otherwise. Try to
appear as aloof as possible. Do not give this Thorolf the impression that you
are anything but elated to be returning to your homeland." A wry smile
briefly touched his face. "At least I have no worries that Anora will be
anything less than convincing." With that he strode over to the port side
of the ship and motioned for them to follow him.
Gwendolyn trembled at the sight of the great warship
looming beside them not more than thirty feet away. She could see at least
fifty armed men staring back at her, dressed in full battle gear. Suddenly
several of the warriors stepped aside as a fierce-looking man, tall and
swarthy, walked up to the side of the warship.
"Are those the wenches?" he yelled out, his
shrewd eyes moving over them.
"Yea, Lord Thorolf. They are Anora and Gwendolyn,
daughters to Earl Godric of Cheshire," Hakon called back.
He pointed to Anora. "This one is the betrothed of
the Dane, Wulfgar Ragnarson."
Thorolf nodded. "They are as beautiful as the
merchant said, if not more so!" He laughed crudely, but quickly sobered. "Very
well, then, Hakon Jarl. Let us sail for England!"
"Yea," Hakon muttered, meeting Gwendolyn's
gaze. "Let us sail for England."
Gwendolyn drew in a deep breath of the salty air,
staring out at the lush coastline stretching out before them. England! It had
taken little more than six days of sailing to reach their homeland, what with
the clear skies to guide them both day and night and the strong winds filling
the large sail.
She sighed. Haarek Jarl's warships had dogged them the
entire journey, one flanking each side of Hakon's longship. She had stepped
from the tent each morning, hoping to find that one or both of them had strayed
off course during the night, but she was always disappointed. Even now they
were cutting through the waves not far behind them, unswerving, like two
guardian watchdogs.
"Such seriousness does not suit you, my love,"
Hakon said softly, walking up beside her. He stood a few feet away from her,
his hands resting on the railing, knowing he could move no closer. He seemed to
have read her thoughts. "Yea, they have followed us this far, Gwendolyn.
But do not fear. I have no doubts that we shall be able to evade them. Soon it
will be dusk and we will have the cover of night to aid us." He paused,
his eyes raking over her. Thor, how he longed to take her in his arms! But he
knew that would have to wait, at least for a few more hours. He spoke to her in
low, measured tones. "Thorolf does not know it yet, but his warships will
be unable to follow us past the mouth of the river that runs alongside your
father's lands. The water is much too shallow for their deeper hulls. He will
have to content himself to wait for our return, though I am sure that will not
sit well with him."
Hakon chuckled lightly at her look of amazement. "Yea,
my love, I have thought of every detail." But then he sobered. "Once
we are inland, you will have to show me where to moor the ship so it is as
close as possible to your father's stronghold. Then I will take several of my
men and escort Anora through the woods to within sight of the stronghold, where
we will have to leave her. Do you think your sister will be able to find the
rest of the way by herself?"
Gwendolyn nodded. "Aye, my lord. We know those
woods well."
"Good," Hakon murmured. "By then it will
be dark. Once we return to the longship and are under way again, 'tis my hope that
we can ease past the two warships waiting for us at the mouth of the river and
be well out to sea before they are able to turn about and follow us." He
smiled reassuringly. "Go and tell Anora of the plan. It will not be long
now before we reach the coast."
Gwendolyn nodded, watching as he strode back along the
deck toward the prow. A surge of hope flared within her heart. It all sounded
so simple. Surely it would not fail! She hurried to the tent, where Anora had
spent much of her time during the voyage. This time it had been her sister who
suffered miserably from seasickness. She was about to lift the leather flap
when a bright glint caught her eye just off the starboard side of the ship,
then another, then several glinting reflections all at once. She looked out
across the rolling seas, shielding her eyes from the late-afternoon rays of the
sun. Suddenly her breath caught in her throat.
"Hakon!" she shouted, oblivious to the fact
that her voice was probably carrying out to the warships not far behind them. "Hakon!"
She raced to the prow of the ship, ignoring the stunned glances of his crewmen.
"Gwendolyn, have you forgotten what I said about
staying away —
"Look there, my lord!" She cut him off
breathlessly, pointing out across the water.
"Damn!" Hakon swore loudly, his eyes
narrowing at the large fleet of ships, now fully discernible, approaching them
from the south. Thor, he had not anticipated a welcoming party, and such a
well-armed one. He knew very well that the bright glints were caused by sunlight
reflecting off polished shields and weapons.
Hakon cursed himself for a fool. Why had he not
considered that perhaps Wulfgar Ragnarson and his fleet might be waiting for
them? Wouldn't he have done the same, had it been his betrothed? He shook his
head grimly, his mind working fast. Maybe there was yet a chance they could
leave Anora on the shore,
then
head back out to sea
before the fleet caught up with them. There would still be Haarek Jarl's two
warships to contend with, but he felt sure his longship could outsail them.