Lord of Hawkfell Island (Viking Era 2)

“Mirana?”

“Aye?”

“You would have them gullet the men? Nay, don’t answer. I like it very much. I can see Amma sitting atop Sculla, a knife pricking his throat. Except, of course, Sculla is a faithful hound. He loves her, nay, he worships that woman. Raki is the same. Poor Erna has but one good arm, yet it makes no difference to him or to their sons. She is a good woman.”

“If we both still live on the morrow, tell me that again.”

“We will be alive,” Entti said, and for a while, at least, Mirana was content to believe her.

It was sheer happenstance. Askhold had forgotten a skin water bag and had returned to the warship to fetch it before they set out to journey inland at dawn the following morning.

Both warships were gone.

“Gone?” Rorik repeated, staring blankly at Askhold.

“Aye, both of them.”

“No accident,” Hafter said.

Gurd said, “She did it. The woman is cunning and treacherous as a snake. Rorik is right. She has a brain. She thinks like a man. She did it. I will strangle her skinny white neck when we catch her.”

Rorik nodded, feeling rage flow over him, but mingled with that rage was respect. She was good, very good.

“But she still has to worry about Entti,” Hafter said. “That will slow her. By Thor’s hammer, if she harms Entti, I’ll strangle the witch myself. My poor Entti, so helpless against such as her. She probably doesn’t understand what is happening. Ah, the woman has much to answer for, Rorik.”

“But I wonder if she could make Entti row?” Rorik said to no one in particular. “It is impossible for one man to row a warship.”

“And she is still naught but a small female, despite all her ploys,” said Gurd. “And she must control Entti as well. Entti is simple, Hafter, but she must realize sooner or later that the woman isn’t her friend. Perhaps she will slow the woman. ’Twill not take us long to get her back.”

“We must find the other warship,” Rorik said, and they set off just as streaks of dawn were penetrating the thick foliage in the salt marsh.

They found the warship run against a log near the shore nearly a mile distant. They were sweating and filthy from walking in the bog. They rowed to the mouth of the estuary very quickly, scenting their victory. When they reached the sea, there was nothing in sight.

Rorik hadn’t really imagined that she would be here, perhaps run aground, but nonetheless he felt a shaft of fear and disappointment.

“Where did she go?” Hafter said.

“Back to Ireland,” Rorik said. “Back to her damned bastard of a brother.”

When the storm struck four hours later, Mirana and Entti were close to shore, staying just behind the breaking waves. Rain poured down, waves splashed over the sides of the warship, soaking them, the water resting in the bottom of the boat to lap over their feet. It was misery.

“We must get ashore and find shelter,” Entti said finally, so tired, she thought her arms would surely break off. With the force of the rain and the wind, they were making little headway. The effort wasn’t worth any distance they were gaining.

“Aye,” Mirana said. “There isn’t much of a choice now. The tide is tugging harder at us. I have no wish to be pulled out to sea.”

“I have no wish to have the boat fill with water and sink. Mirana, they won’t find us. They were going inland to search. Don’t worry about Rorik. This time we have outsmarted him, we outsmarted all of the men.”

“He’s clever,” Mirana said, looking behind her, but seeing nothing through the impenetrable gray sheets of rain. “He’s very clever and smart and shrewd.”

They managed to run the warship ashore, but it took all their combined strength to pull it far enough onto the beach so it wouldn’t be whipped by the storm and the waves back out to sea.

They stood there, breathing hard, their heads down, their arms dangling uselessly at their sides. The rain pounded down, but still they didn’t move.

“It’s far enough in,” Mirana said at last, her chest still heaving. “If no one comes across it, it will be safe.”

Entti only nodded. It really made no difference. Neither of them had any more strength to pull it further. It would remain where it was.

“Let’s get under the trees. Those thick oaks will provide some shelter at least.”