Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy) Read online

  “My father was a wealthy man and, when he died, his wealth should have been divided between my brother and myself. As well as land, he left a hoard of silver buried in the mountains. I know where it is and Rolf does not, because Fadir did not trust him. He thought Rolf might unearth part of it and spend the money. He has always loved fine things. If you will go with me and help me to defeat my brother; his share shall be yours and there is enough to make your voyage worthwhile. Also the land can be yours if that is your wish. By all accounts your settlement is well managed and you will look after my people and rule them justly. I don’t want to return and become chieftain. My home is here now.” He smiled at Emer who was sitting beside him. Her parents, Njall, Freydis and Finnr were seated around them with the rest of the village.

  “What do you say, Dag?” Ragnar asked his son. “You’ve had time to think of this matter now.”

  “Hari knows the land and the people. With him to guide us, we should have an advantage and be able to overcome any opposition easily. My crew are eager to be away again. We have been idle too long.”

  “I don’t want everybody slaughtered,” Hari said quickly. “Only a dozen or so warriors support my brother. There are many who should be spared.”

  “Then this calls for guile as well as strength. Will you go spying for me again, Brodir?” He turned to Edan who laughed.

  “I thought my days as a spy were ended.”

  “One last time?”

  “Renny?”

  “I can see by your face that you want to go,” Renny said slowly. “You would be unhappy to be left behind. I also want the wrongs done to Hari to be put right, for his sake and for Emer’s. Go if you must go but come back to me safely.”

  “Well said,” Ragnar muttered.

  “I will fill your apron with silver,” Edan said.

  “Don’t make rash promises, Brodir. We’ve got to find it first.”

  “I… go… too.” Olaf stood up swiftly. “I… row… fight.”

  “No!” Niamh cried. “Olaf you’ve been badly wounded and nearly died three times. I can’t bear for you to be hurt again. This is a young man’s voyage. Please don’t go.”

  “Teaching… made… strong. Atli… ransomed… me. Dag?”

  Dag glanced at Niamh’s horrified face and smiled. “The time comes for all of us to lay down our swords and fight no more,” he said softly. “You have seen much trouble and won great renown. No one doubts your courage, but a warrior in battle needs two arms or he has no chance of survival. Am I not right?” Olaf nodded but he looked so bitter, Dag continued, “Hari shall pay your debt for you and his brother can only die once. Your teaching will make his victory possible. Stay here and use your skills to teach the young, so they will be ready to defend our people while we are away.”

  It was a refusal but one with dignity and Olaf agreed reluctantly, to the relief of both his wife and daughter.

  19

  From that moment, plans went forward quickly. An agreement was drawn up, giving the terms under which Dag and his crew were sailing. Ragnar and Dag made their marks upon it and Hari signed in a fine flowing script. The document was witnessed by Ragnar’s lovsigemann. There was a great sharpening of weapons and testing of bows. Dag’s ship was provisioned and armed. The skiff Hari had escaped in was brought round from the west and lashed upon her deck at Edan’s request.

  “They won’t notice her. She’s of their own manufacture and there is nothing to mark her out. I can use her to get ashore,” he explained. Edan packed his metalworkers tools and also helped Hari to disguise himself.

  “Let your hair and beard grow,” he advised. “Don’t cut it.”

  On the day before they left, Renny dyed Hari’s red hair dark brown.

  “I hardly recognise you.” Emer laughed as they walked along the river path.

  “Let’s hope that you aren’t alone in that.”

  “Are you excited? I am.”

  Hari smiled. “Excited, afraid, desperate to get started. We should be successful; Dag is a clever and wary warrior who’s done this sort of thing many times before. Edan told me tales of their joint exploits ever since they were boys. Rolf’s a good fighter but he’s no match for Dag and his crew. He’s never had to live by raiding; Fadir preferred to trade when he could. We’ll be back here again soon enough.”

  “Are you really sure you don’t want to make your home on Skuy and take your father’s place? I will stay there with you if that is your wish.”

  “Skuy has unhappy memories and will have more after this attack. It’s a dark land, for me at least. This island…” He paused, glancing from the mountains to the sea, “… has been good to me. I’ve felt like a wanderer with nowhere to call home, until I met you and came here. I want to leave my people safe and well ruled. Then we shall return.”

  “I’m glad I’m going with you,” Emer said, squeezing his hand. “I would have been frantic if you had left me behind.”

  “We’re heading into a battle and you are a woman. Aren’t you afraid?” Hari asked curiosity on his face.

  “Of course I am. Anyone with sense would be, but I’m a warrior’s daughter and I must not dishonour his name.”

  “Your father is indeed a remarkable man. May we both be worthy of him,” Hari said.

  There had been long arguments about whether the women should go. It was not usual and neither Emer nor Freydis were warriors, for all Emer was a superb archer. Both Dag and Ragnar were against including them in the expedition, until Hari spoke in their favour.

  “All four of us know my father’s settlement, the land and the coast that surrounds it. We can identify our friends and our enemies, which, for all his skill as a spy, Edan cannot. Njall and I will lead the warriors into the village. At the same time, Emer and Freydis can pass among the women and keep them away from the fighting. A woman is less of a threat to another woman than a man would be. There are many people I want to spare from harm and that is part of our agreement, as you know. For that reason alone, the women should come with us.”

  Hari’s argument carried the day and so it was decided. Next morning, Niamh and Olaf stood with the rest of the villagers as the graceful longship sailed out of the bay. Olaf looked restless and unhappy, but Niamh took his hand in his and whispered,

  “We can go home for a little while. Renny will send us word as soon as the ship returns.”

  “Wish... aboard… her.”

  “And I am so happy you’re not.” Niamh put her arm around his waist. “I worry enough about Emer, although you have taught her well.”

  “I… protected… her.”

  “That is for Hari to protect her now.”

  “We must wait,” Renny said, tearing her eyes away from the dragonship reluctantly and turning to them. “How long will it be before we find out what has happened?” she asked Ragnar.

  “When I was young enough to lead such raids, we did not stop to rest. We kept going through the night hours, taking turns to steer and tend the sails. Dag does the same. The wind is fair and the stars are bright, so it will be easy to set the course. Dag’s ship is fast. If this breeze holds, they will be in Skuy by the morning of the second day after tomorrow, three days at the most. If it dies, they will take longer, but Thorstein tells me he does not think the weather will change and he is usually right. Another two days back, perhaps three and four on Skuy itself. Eleven days. A week on Freyja’s day before any news will come. Have patience.”

  “I have never been patient, as you know,” Renny said with a smile.

  “All the more reason to learn it now. My sons are strong and young Hari and his friends know the land. The wife of a warrior needs courage of her own.”

  “There are times when I wish I was not the wife of a warrior,” Renny sighed.

  “Be glad then that you did not know my son before we came here. He was a reckless lad and has had to learn sense the hard way. Those scars he wears were won in battle and we sometimes wondered if he would live. He’ll return successful
ly and so will the rest of them, you will see.”

  “I pray to all the gods that you are right.”

  Niamh and Olaf echoed Renny’s words.

  Aboard the ship, people prepared for both the journey and the coming battle. The sails were set to draw as efficiently as possible. They headed out of the bay until the current caught them and swept them north, increasing their speed. Edan spent his time grinding the weapons he had not been able to sharpen before they left. Njall said that he had not fought in a battle for a long time and practised against a few of the crew. He took a while to rediscover his skills, first with wooden swords, then metal. No one complained, because he accumulated more bruises than the all rest of his opponents put together. They chaffed him, but he only shrugged and thanked them for fighting him. Hari practised too. After one of his bouts, when he had felled his challenger, Dag said,

  “Olaf taught you well. I’m glad I left him behind to pass on his skill to the young ones. They will become fine warriors with him to train them.”

  Emer was very proud of her father’s skill but even happier that he was not with them. His weak left arm might easily fail him in a proper battle. She did not think she could bear it if he were killed.

  Emer and Freydis spent their time shooting, fishing and cooking. Emer tried to keep herself busy, so she would not think about the coming fight. She was afraid of many things — cowardice, alerting the enemy to their presence and failing to save certain of the women and children. As she had in the past, she pushed these thoughts away. More difficult was the image of a peaceful home with Hari, their family around them. She felt that such a future had been promised to her and she longed for it with all her heart.

  They were three days and nights on the journey before the black cliffs of Skuy rose from the sea. The wind had become lighter and sometimes they had to row. Emer’s heart pounded as she looked at the island again. How different this landfall was from the first time she had seen it with Atli.

  “Atli’s settlement lies around the furthest point of the land that you can see,” Njall told Dag. “There’s an inlet not far away, where you can come inshore and launch a boat. No one lives there and, unless Rolf has posted watchmen, we should not be seen.”

  “Go up to the bows with Hari and guide us in.”

  They moored in the entrance of a small twisting cove which was not deep enough to take the dragonship any further. Edan, Njall, Hari and Emer climbed down into the skiff, carrying their weapons concealed under their cloaks.

  It had been decided that someone must stay aboard the longship. Dag needed a guide to bring them to the exact spot, where one of the four would be waiting with the latest information. Njall and Freydis knew the coastline best, for Hari had not fished for years. They drew straws to see which one would go. Freydis lost. After a tearful parting from Njall, she remained on board, waving to the others.

  Edan’s tools, which would help him play the part of a metalworker once again, were handed down to him. He took them with a groan.

  “These are heavier than they used to be. I must be getting old.” He rubbed his back and everyone laughed.

  “Success, Brodir,” Dag said. “May this venture prove to be as fruitful as our last one. I’ll listen for your signal tomorrow and then we will start the attack.”

  “Odin with you, Dag.”

  “And with all of you.”

  They rowed the skiff to the shore and hid it among some rocks, wedging it tight but leaving the painter loose.

  “If anyone finds the boat, they may think it drifted away on its own,” Njall explained.

  Hari and Njall led them up a hill above the settlement, where they lay concealed and were able to see what was happening. It was mid morning before they reached the spot and the village was alive with activity.

  “There’s my father.” Njall pointed to a man hammering nails into a boat. “Some of our friends are with him too.”

  “And there’s Kolla,” Emer whispered. “How glad I am that no harm came to either of them after we left.”

  “Their skills were too valuable to lose,” Hari replied. “My brother is a harsh man, but he’s not a fool.”

  Rolf was walking towards the shore, talking to two of his men.

  “The dark-haired one is Rolf, the tall blond is Par and the little man is Yki,” Hari told Edan. “They’re a lot better dressed than they used to be when Fadir was alive.”

  “Will those men side with your brother?” Edan asked.

  “Almost certainly. There are some others as well, but I cannot see them at the moment.”

  They maintained their watch for most of the day, identifying the warriors who were likely to fight against Hari. He pointed out those men he thought would take his part and the people he wanted to protect. The sun was drifting towards the west, when Edan said,

  “It’s time for me to go. I’ll circle round these hills and enter the village from the north. Hopefully they won’t realise that I’ve come from the sea.”

  “I’ll show you the way,” Njall offered. “Where shall I meet you when I return?” he asked Hari.

  “By my mother’s grave, when the moon is beginning to rise,” Hari answered with a grin. “No one else will be there. There’s no corpse waiting for burial that I can see and people don’t walk around near the graves at night for fear of ghosts.”

  “Don’t you fear them?” Edan asked curiously.

  “I’m related to most of them. They didn’t bother me when they were alive, why should they harm me now?”

  “Interesting,” was all Edan replied.

  “Emer and I will continue to watch,” Hari said. “Then we will come to meet you, Njall. Gods be with you both.”

  “And with you.”

  Njall and Edan walked cautiously down the hill and through the rough ground towards the road. They were careful to keep the line of hills between them and the settlement, so they should not be seen. There were lots of little paths, pools and boggy land so it was as well Edan had a guide. Eventually, they gained the main route into the settlement and hid behind some bushes.

  “Wait,” Njall said. “I will see if anyone approaches. It would be hard to explain if you were seen leaving these hills. Few people go into them, because there’s nothing to go for.” He went some distance along the path, away from the village and then came back to report. “The road is clear as far as I can see. Go now and good fortune go with you.”

  They parted and Njall hid himself again to watch the road. Edan rubbed his back, hefted his pack and walked down towards the village. He had only gone a short distance when a warrior stood out from behind a stone, pointing a spear at him.

  “Halt! Who are you and why do you come here?”

  “I’m Kari Ragnarsson,” Edan said giving his Norse name. “I’m a worker in metals looking for employment.”

  “Where’re you from?”

  “The mainland. I came across the straight,” Edan lied. “Is there any metal that needs mending in your village?”

  “We have a smith of our own.”

  “Is he as skilled as me? Look, I will show you.” Edan swung down his pack under the man’s watchful eye. He pulled out a few small objects, mainly fastenings and jewellery. The man looked at them.

  “Those are very fine indeed, but I am not the one to employ your services. You must come to the chieftain. He will decide.”

  The warrior led Edan through the village. Several people gathered, wondering who the stranger was. A man glanced at him and then went quickly into the longhouse.

  From their hilltop, Emer and Hari saw Edan arrive.

  “That’s Par, one of Rolf’s friends,” Hari murmured, “and here’s Rolf. Let’s hope he will let Edan stay.”

  There was some conversation among the men and Edan went into the longhouse with Rolf. Par came out again and then returned with another man, Kufri, the village metalworker.

  Edan told them later that Kufri said he could use some help for the next few days. Storms had damaged some o
f the boat fittings and two of his helpers were sick. So Rolf agreed that Edan could spend the night and the next day helping him. Edan went with the metalworker to his workplace. Kufri seemed anxious and told him that he had to complete the repairs in a certain time for the boat was needed. He was falling behind in his work, so he was delighted Edan had arrived so opportunely. Edan showed him the pieces that he had shown the warrior. Kufri told him that he, himself, had never been trained to do such fine work.

  “The women will like this,” he remarked, holding up a beaten silver broach in the shape of a dragon. “Show it to the Lady Drifa, the chieftain’s mother. She’s sure to have more work for you; she likes shiny things. All I do is mend boat fittings or ploughs. I also sharpen swords and axes.”

  “I can do those things too,” Edan told him, “But this village seems peaceful enough. There’s not a lot here to rob, to my eye at least. You won’t need to sharpen your weapons very often, will you?”

  “You’d be surprised. You’ve met our chieftain. His father was a trader, but Rolf has other ideas. He’s impatient to increase his fortune. He likes raiding better than trade. So he wants all the swords and axes ready. There they are.” Kufri pointed to a pile in the corner. “They all need sharpening when I’ve got the time, but I must finish this swivel pin first.”

  “I’ll do them, if you like,” Edan offered and Kulfi accepted with alacrity. Edan smiled. He had a way of making the edge of a weapon look sharp but actually blunting it, so it did less harm to an opponent. His first teacher, a fine metalworker who lived near Baile Átha Cliath, had taught him the trick, which had proved useful on many occasions.

  Kufri also told Edan that some of the warriors were away on another expedition and were not expected to return for some days. Edan nodded and kept his face blank with difficulty. This was yet another piece of good news; the fewer opponents the better. When these men returned, they might find a very different regime in place. Edan settled down to the task of grinding the weapons, stopping from time to time to ask more questions about the village. Kufri was a talkative man and indiscreet. It was a wonder that he still had his tongue. He had been lucky or Atli had been a tolerant man. Edan learned many things from him. Chiefly he found out that Atli had been liked, because he knew how to manage men, a skill his son had not inherited. There was resentment in the village but nobody had the courage to oppose Rolf directly.