Chapter 14
Catherine waved to Anna until the boat sailed out of view of Halsrafjord. Although excited to be going home to visit her father, the happiness was tempered by the fact that she was travelling alone. She and Anna had not been separated for longer than a fortnight in the past eight summers. Even then the distance between them was half a day on horseback, the distance between RathSteele and RathGorm, her father's seat of power. It would be wonderful to see her father again, and to gather up a few of her precious possessions. When Emmett arrived at the steading, with her father's blessing, he had omitted to bring her mother's silver torc necklace that had passed through the female line of her family. Catherine had never known her mother; she did not survive the birth. Emmett was older than she, and so rarely spoke of her, Catherine wondered if Emmett's memories were true, or the residual imaginations of a small boy. Her father had always spoken with reverence of his wife, and Catherine never felt that her father forgave her for her mother's death. She did not doubt that he loved her, but with a father's duty rather than unconditionally.
She slipped on her cloak and pulled it around her shoulders, the fresh cold wind of the open sea slicing through her kirtle. Although it was still the summer season and the sun was still long in the sky, she was grateful for the fur trimmed garment. Along with Ellrik, Joseph and Emmett, there were another seven men on board. She had no role on the ship and she felt somewhat frustrated by it. Perhaps when they beached the boat at night, she could prepare a decent meal for her husband and the crew. With twelve bodies on board, was a tight squeeze at the minute, but she knew that the additional rowing power would assist on the journey there, and would be essential for the return voyage. She felt Ellik's arms circle her, and she laid against his chest, both looking straight ahead out over the expanse of water.
"What ails you this day, darling?" Ellrik inquired "Do you miss your home already?" He sneaked his hands in under her headkerchief and circled his fingers around her blond coils of hair.
Home. Halsrafjord really was her home. Even the language that she spoke now was nearly all Norse, unless she was conversing with Anna. Despite her unconventional introduction to her husband, it was love, almost at first sight, when he had carried her onto Kristr's ship. Catherine had felt at ease almost immediately in the North, and embraced her new family and life. Even their religious beliefs had never seemed strange to her. Father Michael would be horrified that she had adopted so many tenets of their faith, but she found it easy to blend her daily prayers with pagan rituals, to align the various Norse gods with her Christian saints. She did not care which deity would intercede on their behalf to give them safe passage home, or to bless her with children. She did not fear pregnancy, and her greatest wish now was to bear Ellrik a child, a future Jarl.
"I will be happy to see my father and his people again. I should like him to know that I am happy and safe before we return home." She craned her neck upwards to catch her husband's smile. "Yes, Ellrik, your home really is my home. We belong there." Her unspoken thoughts drifted to the children that deserved to be raised there, alongside Anna's babe.
"I fear your true-brother does not share your sentiment." Ellrik murmured in his wife's ear. Catherine looked across at Emmett, his countenance even more chilling than the wind.
"My father gave his blessing, Emmett brought it, with my father's ceremonial sword, if you recall. I am your wife, and you are not getting rid of me so easily, husband!"
Ellrik spun her around and held her tight. "And do not think you will rid yourself of me either!" Catherine nuzzled against the wool and leather of his jerkin. This man protected her, not from duty, but from love.
Lorcan decided to take a break from loading the hull of Hrut Blackbeard's longship. So far they had only sailed from Hedeby to Rika, barely a third of the journey. He did not know how Helgena managed to involve him in work normally done by slaves. He had herded the animals into the pen, and one of the thralls could scrape up the putrid droppings. Coming off deck, before entering the shack at the dockside, he helped himself to a giant cup of ale. Hearing raised voices, he pressed his eye to a crack in the slatted wall.
"When can we sail, Hrut?" Helgena ran a whetstone over her dagger for what must have been the tenth time in as many days. "I am keen for you to keep your side of the bargain."
The gnarly Swede did not even bother to look up at her. "We have been over this Helgena. I credited you with more patience than you currently display."
"And I have credited you with coin!" Helegna's voice was raised. Lorcan could not help but sneer at the drama that unfolded through the splintered peephole; he could barely believe that the one man not to fall to her charms and demands was a stocky hairy barbarian from the edge of the north world. Hrut Blackbeard was the opposite of Helgena; not just that she was female, he was male. She was blonde and, now that she was not in disguise, was clean; he was a smelly mass of bushy beard, bulbous nose, blood-stained clothes and coarsely plaited hair. Her features were still delicate within her statuesque frame. His eyes might have been an innocent bright blue in colour, but they barely touched on the depths of atrocity that he obviously had seen in his lifetime. Lorcan could not even begin to determine the man's age. He could be anywhere between two score and four score years.
Hrut merely shrugged at her outburst. "You can seek assistance elsewhere, but rest assured that as a woman outside of the law, you will be hard pushed to find an ally." He unhooked his pouch from his belt and withdrew a number of gold coins, stacking them one on top of another. He pushed the short tower towards her. "Feel free to cancel our agreement." He inched it further in her direction. "If you can. The name of Greysteinn carries a lot of weight even this far south of the fjords. You can try finding someone to help you capture Kristr Greysteinn, but without me, it will be you who will be a prisoner at the mercy of the Allthing." Hrut picked up the coins and re-dropped them into their tower shape. You can come with me to Birka, we will gather mercenaries there, and then return to travel up the western fjords." he flicked the tower over, the coins scattering them across the table. "Or, you can try another way."
Lorcan heard an angry hiss from Helgena, and seeing she was making for the door, he jumped back from his vantage point and casually sipped his ale. Passing, she glared at him "Why aren't you working, Irish? Do you not want to be on your way to claim your new bride as I wish to be on my way to claim my groom?" Reflecting Hrut's own action, Lorcan shrugged and went back to the boat, smirking to himself. Helgena was becoming increasingly angry and deranged, and consequently he had less desire to bed her. When her life ended, as it inevitably would, there would be all the more riches for him.
Ellrik scanned the sky. They had been sailing for three days, and this would be their third night on the ocean. The purple-grey storm clouds were gathering quickly and hanging low on the horizon. Judging by the ominous flickering in the sky, a sinister dance of light, the thunder of Thor was on its way. Any remaining sunlight was now occluded by the incoming rain and they were perhaps still a eighth of a day away from the nearest steading. This was not a summer squall, and the unnatural sticky heat that was descending over the air did not bode well for the tiny ship. Seeing the expectant expressions on the faces of his men, he made his decision.
"Men, stay at the oars, and make direction for land towards the east." Joseph was already taking his turn at rowing, and, along with the other men, increased his pace. "Emmett, batten down any sea-chests that are not already secured to the deck." Seeing his brother-in-law scowl at the order he made to reissue it, at dagger point if necessary. He felt Catherine tug anxiously on his tunic.
"Husband, what can I do for you?" For a moment his heart melted. Catherine would not have the strength of muscle to row, or the stamina to manage the sail. Feeling the dank oppressive heat in the air, it was not Catherine's robustness that concerned him, but her weight.
"Darling, there is nothing you can do now, but follow my instruction." Picking up a rope he motioned to the ship's mast. "I am sorry to do this to you, but I must lash you there for your safety."
Catherine's lip trembled, "But I must be of some use to you on this ship!" Ellrik did not have much time to comfort her, but drew her towards the wide round beam.
"Sit, please." When Catherine obeyed with a soft cry, he felt worse than the day he abducted her, and he had not bound her then. "This is for your own good, my darling. You might be taller than most, but your weight will be no match for the Njorther, the god of wind and sea, when he comes whipping through here, and I have never sailed with a cargo as precious as you." He brushed away her tears. "The knot is at the front. As soon as it is safe, I will release you." He kissed her forehead, nose and finally planted a gentle buss on her lips, holding the chaste embrace until she stopped shaking. The boat was beginning to toss on the waves, and he would need to take the steer lest the tiller broke from the stress, after he resolved the dissention with his brother-in-law.
Now his attention returned to the sullen Emmett, who had made his presence aware by jabbing his sharply on the shoulder. "So, Jarl Greysteinn," he snarled, 'this is how you plan to treat my sister. If my God ever delivers us from this storm, I shall see that she does not come back with you. You took her by force and now you tie her like a common animal!" Ellrik's eyes narrowed, his hand on his dagger as Emmett continued his tirade. "You do not deserve her, Norse. My father is a fool for giving her to you. Or, perhaps you conjured up this weather so that you can consign us all to a watery grave."
From a young age, Ellrik had been taught self-control in preparation for his role as a Jarl and leader. However, when it came to the protection of his wife, his role as husband came first. Unsheathing his dagger, he held it to Emmet's throat. "Catherine is my wife in the eyes of our laws! If Thor and Odin spare us this night, I will stop at the first Christian church I find, and if it is what Catherine wants, we will be married in the eyes of your God, and then," Ellrik slowly dragged the blade across Emmet's neck, four pearls of blood rounding on his skin, "no man will tear us asunder." With Ellrik's statement, a bolt of lightening tore through the sky, and dropping his dagger, he ran to the tiller. He had eleven souls to save from Hel.