Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy) Read online

  “You know what it means — that exchange of swords and rings, don’t you?”

  “I have never seen it before, only heard it described. It’s part of the wedding ceremony, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. So the next time you come out of a trance, be very sure to tell my father that we did not wed. For, by the gods, I will do my best to make certain that we do not!” He stamped away and Emer was left, clutching her cloak around her, staring after him in sudden fright.

  7

  “We leave on tomorrow’s tide,” Atli told Emer, many days later. The weather had been stormy, as the solstice approached, but it showed signs of clearing at last. “We will sail for the Landnám islands as I promised you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Go to Kolla, she will see you are suitably clothed for the journey, as the future wife of my son.”

  In spite of her fear and apprehension, Emer enjoyed the experience of wearing different clothing. They were not new, but they were clean and warm and serviceable. Far better than the ones she had arrived in and finer even than those she had left at home, for her father was not a rich man. Kolla found her a long-sleeved, full-length tunic, a gown of green, embroidered in an orange thread and a coat pinned together with a metal brooch. She was given mittens and several hoods of linen, wool and fur. Emer plaited her hair and Kolla tied a fabric band around her head, to hold the square linen hood in place.

  “There, that is good,” Kolla said when she had finished.

  “You look like an elegant lady,” Freydis said, with a grin. “Much better than when you arrived here.”

  Emer laughed. “I looked like a scarecrow then, didn’t I? I left some nice garments back in my home, but I ran out of the door without any of them, not even shoes or a cloak.”

  “Perhaps you can get them back one day.”

  “Perhaps.” Emer knew she sounded wistful. It was not the clothes she missed but her family and friends. “I certainly feel warm,” Emer said, changing the subject.

  “In here, yes, but you won’t out on the sea. Take these with you.” Kolla gave her a heavy woollen blanket, one of fur and another made of cloth that had been tarred.

  “You will still get wet, but these will protect you from the worst of the weather. It will be very cold though, so you will need all the protection you can.”

  “Thank you for your kindness.”

  Kolla smiled, “Not kindness, but orders and common sense. Do what you are told on board ship and you’ll manage. It’s unusual for any of our ships to venture so far out in winter, although it does happen. It’s not a pleasant journey although sometimes, when the wind drops and the clouds roll back, the sky is beautiful. Ice blue in daylight and at night the nordrljos dances like spirits in the air.” She sighed.

  “You’ve been there then?” Emer asked in awe, looking at the older woman.

  “Several times, when I was young. Knut was a traveller, not a shipwright at that time. I did not look after Atli’s household for my mother was still alive. I will never see the northern seas again but there is splendour out on the ocean, where the stars spit living fire.”

  “Do you wish you could come with us?”

  Kolla laughed. “I’m far too old now and my blood would curdle in the cold. Those days are past for me but it is true I envy you. Knut’s ships were always well made but they were small and often uncomfortable. Rolf’s ship is stout and he is an excellent sailor. He has made several such journeys before.”

  “I was surprised when Rolf agreed to go after the storm we’ve just had,” Freydis murmured.

  “And I, but the soothsayers say the weather should stay fair enough, with a steady wind and dry. They think you will be able to return before the next storms are upon us. Atli told me to prepare your wedding festivities while you are gone, so make sure you come back in one piece to enjoy them.” She smiled and left Emer and Freydis packing the clothes and blankets into a small tarred chest.

  That night, Emer found it as hard to sleep as she had when she set out on her first journey. The hours seemed never ending, but they passed at last. In the grey dawn, Emer climbed into the largest trading ship she had ever seen. As Kolla had said, it was sturdily built. For all that, it was speedy enough. It flew down the inlet and turned north-west, pointing its prow towards the endless ocean.

  Emer sat in the small shelter that had been made for her. Atli, Rolf and Hari were busy about the boat and she was alone. In daylight, things seemed less frightening and her mind leaped back unerringly to the other part of her dream. Her grandfather had warned her not to tell this to anyone. She let her mind wander, trying to remember the details that had frightened her so.

  She had been taken to a beach, just as darkness was beginning to fall. A ship lay ready, stripped of any goods and with wood piled upon it. A man’s body rested on a bier on top of the woodpile, his shield and weapons lying on his breast, covering him. The night wind stirred his hair but he made no other movement and she knew that he was dead. When she looked more closely she recognised Atli. There was no mistake, although all the lines had been smoothed from his face and he seemed much younger. At first she stood beside the boat, standing on the water and then suddenly she was on the deck itself. She walked towards Atli, touching his face and whispering goodbye. Then she heard a slight scuffle in the bows. Curious she went forward and her heart pounded in horror. Another figure huddled there, bound and gagged but undoubtedly still alive. He had shuffled his feet, which had attracted her. She recognised him at once — Hari. His dark eyes looked at her with a mute appeal and great fear. She tried to walk over to him but every time she did so, she found she had not moved.

  Her grandfather had told her that she had a choice to make before she could go to him. He was showing her what she had to do when the time came. If she chose to leave him on the ship, he would die in the flames. If she released him, they would have to flee from Skuy. She would be the one to decide. Then the boat started to rock back and forth, as men loosed the sail and pushed it out to sea. Emer and her guide watched it glide out into the bay.

  “I see a darkness in the water, where the ship will pass,” Emer said.

  “Again I show you something you should know. If you choose to act, wait out on the waters and climb aboard the ship as it passes. Then you may free the young man and escape together.”

  “And if I do not?”

  “Watch.”

  Blazing arrows flew out into the darkness and set the sails of the ship on fire. Then the current whirled it away and it headed towards the sunset, but not before one single terrified scream rent the air. A man’s figure stumbled over the bows and he fell into the sea.

  Emer felt sick, the same feeling that she had when she had first dreamed it.

  “When will this happen?” she had asked her guide.

  “Soon.”

  “How did Atli die?”

  “No one will ever discover the truth about that, but no mark was found upon his body. You’ve little time to make your decision. These sights are for your eyes only and you must not tell anyone about them. Keep silence and you have the chance to avert what is coming, if that is your wish. Disaster would follow, both for you and for those who listen to you, if you speak. You would provoke the wrath of the gods, for not everything is meant to be averted.”

  That memory remained with Emer throughout the days and nights that it took them to reach the Landnám islands. The soothsayers had been right and the weather stayed fair. The great sail drove them steadily northward, league after league, never forcing them to change course. The air got colder and Emer was grateful for Kola’s thoughtfulness whenever she snuggled her blankets around her. Light snow fell from time to time but no rain and the high sides of the ship gave protection from the spray. Emer remained in her shelter, doing the chores she was given and then retreating again into her thoughts and her hopes to find her father.

  Atli came often to talk with her and was, in some sort of way, a distraction. She made herself ask him about
life on Skuy, the boatbuilding and the trading. She learned that he was a very rich man. He owned several vessels sailing as far away as the icy peninsula in the north and the warmer shores far to the south. He told her a little of the peoples of those places.

  “One day I will take you there,” he promised.

  “I would like that very much.” She forced herself to say, despite the knowledge that he would not be able to do so.

  One day she became bolder and asked him,

  “Why do you want to know about the future?”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” he answered.

  “I suppose so, but not everyone would believe the word of a stranger, act on it or plan to marry the dreamer into his family.”

  Atli laughed. “I have my reasons,” he said. “I will keep my part of the bargain and you keep yours.”

  Hari never came anywhere near Emer. He spent his time with one of the crew, old Tanni, who was wise in the way of the sea. Whenever she walked past them, Emer could hear that their talk concerned seafaring. Tanni was teaching Hari how to foretell the weather, how to find out where the boat was heading by using the stars or the signs of underwater shoals. She would have liked to join them, for she was curious about such things, but, if she passed close to them, Hari frowned and gestured her away impatiently.

  A few nights later, as Kolla had described, the dancers in the sky, the nordrljos, appeared. Great veils of green and white light sparkled in the darkness, changing colour even as Emer watched. She hung onto the gunwale, trying to keep her balance while she looked up, totally entranced by the spectacle.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” A voice said softly beside her, an unexpected voice. She glanced behind her. The strange light rippled over Hari’s rapt face and he seemed to be speaking to himself more than her. “In them we see the true wonder of God.”

  “Yes, they’re beautiful,” Emer replied. “I have never seen anything like them before.”

  “They only appear in the far north. There is nothing like them anywhere else. When I first saw them, I was afraid, but Fadir told me the spirits would not harm me and I should just watch while they danced for me. I was very little then. Fadir had taken Modir and me on one of his journeys. They held my hands and we stood on the prow, watching. It is the earliest memory I have and I have never forgotten.”

  Emer said nothing but slipped her own hand into his. He stiffened at her touch and she thought for a moment that he would fling her hand away but he did not. Slowly his fingers curled round hers; a tiny warmth in the piercing cold. They stood like this together until the dancers went away. Then gently he withdrew his hand and walked away in the darkness.

  Unlike Hari, Rolf hardly left her alone. He was nearby, talking, helping her with her tasks, making her laugh. Emer would have been totally entranced by him, if she had not seen him glance constantly at his brother whenever he was with her. Sadly, she realised that Rolf was more interested in annoying Hari than in flirting with her. Atli had been right and she began to pity Brina. There was no way to avoid Rolf and he did make the long hours shorter. So she sat with him and listened to his tales and laughed in the right places. They talked about his journeys, for he had constantly travelled since he was a young boy. Some of them seemed too fabulous to believe, but she pretended that she did. One day she asked him about Brina.

  “I found her in Iraland, her and her sister, a few summers ago,” he replied. “They were girls then and pretty enough so I bought them both. Gisli paid me a good price for Dairinn. He eventually wed her, more fool him, though she’s given him a brace of fine sons. They say she rules him. If I were him, I’d take a stick to her bum. I should never have kept Brina. She warms my bed, but she never stops talking and asking me for things. Time for her to be with another man.”

  Emer chilled when she heard his words and worse was to come. He moved closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder, holding her tightly.

  “Now you, on the other hand,” he whispered, “you have more to offer a man than just a pretty face. You’re interesting and you have this special gift which Fadir craves and which he tells me will increase our fortune…”

  Emer twisted around so she could see into his face. “Do you crave it, too?”

  He smiled. “Let’s say that it is not the ability that intrigues me but the person who has it.”

  He pulled her head towards him and kissed her. For a moment, Emer started to respond. She had imagined Rolf kissing her when she first came to Skuy. She wondered how his lips would taste. Now she knew and it was not the delight she thought it would be. He clamped her face to his and forced his tongue into her mouth. Emer choked. Suddenly her temper boiled up and she bit the tip of his tongue. Rolf slammed her away from him, so she fell full length on the deck. He grabbed her, hauled her to her feet and put his hands on her throat, squeezing hard, forgetting in his anger who and what she was.

  “What’s going on here?” Emer’s senses were swimming, but she recognised Hari’s voice. The pressure of Rolf’s thumbs ceased and she started to cough. She slumped to the floor, looking up at the brothers through glazed eyes.

  “The bitch bit me,” Rolf said and he had blood on his lips to prove it.

  “And how did she get close enough to bite your mouth, Brodir?”

  “She forced herself on me. Apparently you aren’t the man she wants.”

  Emer would have gasped if she had been able to do so.

  “I never realised you couldn’t defend yourself against a young girl. It seems strange to me that, if Emer wanted you so badly, she would show it by making you bleed. Or did she have a reason to defend herself?”

  Hari was standing with his legs apart and his hands on his hips, chin thrust out aggressively. A flash of silver appeared in Rolf’s hand. By this time, several people had come over to see what was happening and a warning cry went up. Next thing, Atli was between his sons, his hand holding Rolf’s and forcing his dagger towards the floor.

  “Stop, both of you. Emer is Hari’s promised wife and he has every right to defend her honour.”

  “Against his own brother?” Rolf was breathing hard and trying to escape from Atli’s grip.

  “Especially against his brother, if that brother is stupid enough to molest her. You have enough women to satisfy your lusts, but one you will not have. Stay away from Hari’s bride unless you wish to earn my displeasure.”

  Rolf tore his hand free, muttering something under his breath and stalked off to the other end of the ship.

  “Have a care,” Atli said to Emer as he lifted her to her feet. “You have angered him and I have hurt his pride. Rolf is a bad enemy. I will speak to him when his temper has cooled, but it will be best if you keep out of his sight as much as possible. Hari, stay with her.”

  Atli walked down to the mast, where he could watch both his sons and keep them apart.

  Hari helped Emer into her shelter and told one of the other men to fetch her something to drink. After she had finished the brew, he made her lie down and cover her with her wraps. Then he sat in the entrance, with his arms wrapped around his knees, peering out.

  “Do you fear him?” Emer asked. “They say he is a good fighter.”

  “He is a very good fighter,” Hari replied. “Far better than me, if that is what you are asking. I have learned to avoid an open quarrel if I can.”

  “What made you stop him then?”

  “No woman should be choked to death. What did he do to you?”

  “He tried to kiss me.”

  “Most women would like that.”

  “Not if the man forced his tongue down their throat. I thought I would choke. But I am sorry I bit him, if it’s going to cause trouble.”

  “If it wasn’t that it would be something else. Rolf likes a fight.” Hari shrugged. “We’ll see what happens after Fadir has talked to him.”

  Nothing did happen for the rest of the voyage. Rolf kept away from both Hari and Emer, although his eyes often followed their movements with an ic
y fury. He attended to the ship and stayed among his crew. It seemed as if everything had been forgotten but Emer knew it had not.

  8

  Emer was so tired of the voyage now. It seemed to go on for ever and the seething tensions around her were almost unbearable. She had almost forgotten a time when she had been at peace and without fear. But nightmares do not last and, eventually, dark smudges were seen on the horizon. Atli pointed to them.

  “The Landnám islands,” he said.

  Emer’s heart began to beat faster and she forgot Rolf and her promise and the uncertain future. Excitement and apprehension clutched at her throat. Would her dream come true? Was Fadir really there?

  A small crowd of people awaited them when they anchored in the bay, close to what was the main settlement in the islands according to Atli. Emer anxiously scanned the faces around her, as she followed the men up the strand, but her father was not among them. It was not until after the night meal that Atli brought her news of him.

  “Olaf was sold to a farmer in the western hills. I will go there tomorrow and bring him back here.”

  “Is he well?” she asked, fear in her heart.

  “He was when he left here, but my informant has not seen him since.”

  “May I go with you to find him?”

  “I’ll be quicker without you. It’s a long way and a rough road. Rolf can come with me and Hari stay with you. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  Emer tried hard to be content, but she was in a fret with anxiety. She spent the time walking up and down the beach, sometimes alone and sometimes with Hari, a silent presence at her side.

  “How I loath waiting,” she said to him once. “I’d much rather be doing something.”

  “All women have to wait,” he replied, absently.

  She whirled round and faced him. “Do you really believe that?”

  He looked startled for a moment and then a sheepish grin spread over his face.

  “Perhaps I should have said — most women.”

  All the next day they waited. It was not until evening that Atli returned, bringing with him a tall shambling figure. The man was stooped and dirty. He slouched rather than walked freely. Emer hardly recognised him. Then, in a sudden joy, she ran forwards and threw her arms around his neck.