 |  |
––––––––
THEY HAD NOT A MOMENT to lose.
With two gold coins, Karr Olney made a bargain with the queen’s maid, and just before dawn, she lured the night watchman away from his post on the inlet shore of the Norwegian village. As soon as she and the guard were out of sight, and against the command of their king, seven Viking brothers held several full leather sacks above their heads, and silently waded into the water between two empty longships.
No one had ever stolen a longship.
The odds were heavily against them and if they got caught, the punishment would surely be death. Therefore, they chose the darkest night of the month and the time of morning that insured the blackness of night would barely begin to brighten.
Obbi, the youngest brother, set his sacks in the ship, grabbed hold of the port rim, hoisted himself up, and slipped inside. He quickly raised his head up and glanced around to see if he had been spotted. As near as he could tell, he had not. Cautiously relieved, he nodded to his brothers. More frightened than he had been in all his fourteen years, he continued to keep an eye out while he soundlessly relieved each brother of his belongings. Obbi crouched down, carefully positioned the supplies out of the way, and then received the food, their cloth wrapped weapons, shields, and two nearly empty water barrels. Finally, he received the bag that contained all of Anundi’s wealth. At last, everything was onboard.
Taking extra care, the brothers stopped all their activity and allowed Obbi a chance to look for trouble a second time. So far, they managed not to make any noise at all, and he again gave the signal to continue.
To make certain they did not noticeably rock the ship, on opposite sides and at exactly the same moment, two more brothers raised their bodies over the rim, slipped in, and then ducked out of sight.
That left the four stoutest brothers in the water, and what they were about to do was the most dangerous part of all. They waded back out of the water and with their shoulders to the bow, the mighty Vikings strained to get the heavy ship moving. Their progress was painfully slow at first, but inch by inch, it began to move. The grinding noise the hull made against the dirt could not be helped, which made their labors that much more urgent.
At last, the ship was free of the land and began to drift away from the shore. Just as the other brothers had, two on each side of the ship, grabbed hold of the railing, pulled themselves over and crouched down.
Obbi kept his eyes peeled, certain they would not, and indeed, could not get away with it. Yet, so far, no one sounded the alarm and even the dogs had not begun to bark. That could soon change, but there was no time to worry about it now. The brothers took their assigned seats on the rowing benches, and when Obbi looked up, Karr, the eldest of the seven, was sitting in the stern holding the rudder handle. Karr clicked his tongue on the top of his mouth twice, which was the signal to begin, and Obbi knew just what to do. He should, they practiced it often enough.
One at a time, six brothers noiselessly lifted a long handled oar out of its storage place in the center of the ship, inserted them in the oar holes, and made ready to row. Too dark to see what he was doing, Obbi’s oar knocked against the bottom of the oar hole. He caught his breath, as did they all, and waited, but still they were not discovered. More careful this time, he eased his oar into the proper place, got a firm grip, and waited for the signal.
In the scant light, Karr raised his arm in the air and then abruptly lowered it to begin the count. In unison, and just as they had practiced a thousand times, the brothers quietly set their oars in the calm water and began to row. Time and again, the men soundlessly raised their oars out of the water, slowly slipped them in, and pulled – until at last, they reached the mouth of the narrow and treacherous zigzagging fjord.
After months of studying the passageway, Karr knew exactly where each of the jagged rocks lay just beneath the surface of the water. Nevertheless, the sun was not yet giving off enough light between the steep opposing cliffs; he had never actually sailed before, and was not accustomed to gaging the agility of the rudder-steered longship. Just now, he could not be certain where anything was.
His heart beat wildly and he held his breath as they entered the darkness. He waited until he thought it was time, and turned the wooden, eight inch wide rudder just a little to the left. As if they too were uncertain, the brothers slowed their collective cadence – but it was not slow enough. The tip of a jagged rock scraped the shallow bottom of the ship and gave off a ghastly loud screech that echoed throughout the fjord.
They prayed first, that they would not sink, and second, that the villagers did not hear it. In any event, it was too late to turn back, so they each strengthened their resolve and kept going. Again, Karr held his breath and when he guessed it was time, turned the ship to the right. He imagined they would hit the side of a cliff, but they did not, and when his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, he navigated them left and then right again. Mercifully, he could at last see the blessed light of early dawn shimmering across the open ocean.
Yet, they were far from being safely away.
Larger than most men, with the same blond hair and blue eyes as his brothers, Karr got up and knelt down to see if there was more water in the bottom of the ship than he could attribute to their boarding. It was still too dark to see clearly, but he decided if the jagged rock had caused a leak; it wasn’t going to quickly sink them. Relieved, he stood up, returned to his seat, drew his sword, and began to tap a faster rowing cadence on the deck of the ship.
To make it across the incoming waves, they needed more speed, so he steadily quickened the cadence. Even though the shorter ship was built to carry only fifty men instead of the normal hundred the bigger ships carried, it was doubtful only six, no matter how stout, could actually succeed. Yet, they had to try.
The six rowing brothers gritted their teeth, ignored their aching arms and their sweat soaked bodies, and concentrated on the ever increasing cadence. At least now, they didn’t have to worry about making noise when they lowered the oars, but the work was harder and exhaustion threatened to overtake them with each new pull of the oars.
They faced the waves head on and to their amazement, they broke through the first, the second, and each one after that until, at last, they were far enough out to set sail. Mercifully, Karr stopped beating his sword. His brothers lifted their oars out of the water, drew them in, and quickly stowed them in the bottom of the ship.
It was not yet time to rest.
They stuffed the wooden disks in the oar holes, unfolded the massive, thickly woven hemp sail, and hoisted it to the top of the mast. Next, they tied the thick bottom ropes to opposite sides of the ship, and with a loud pop, the wind snapped the sail taut. It soon caught the steady southeastern wind and the ship began to pick up speed.
Eager to get them quickly into a cloudbank, and with more vigor than he should have, Karr turned the rudder too far. The ship began to tilt, brothers began to slide to the side, and Obbi barely grabbed hold of the sail rope in time to keep from being tossed into the sea. As quickly as he could, Karr adjusted the rudder until the ship righted, wiped the sweat off his brow, and sailed them into the protection of the clouds.
Exhausted, the men got back to their seats and tried to calm their apprehensive heavy breathing. Even wrapped in the misty clouds, none of them were certain if their voices could still be heard, so they remained quiet for several long minutes.
Obbi was the first to speak up. Finally able to see more than just his brother’s shadowy figure, he glared at Karr. “Next time, you row and I’ll steer the ship.”
“Gladly,” Karr answered. He could not quite believe they had actually gotten away, nor that clouds waited to hide them as the wind carried them farther out to sea.
Hani could not believe it either. Born just ten months after Karr, Hani was pretty sure he knew what Karr was thinking. “Grandfather said he would watch us from above when we sailed. So far, he has kept his word,” he said, as he tried to rub the cramp out of his left arm.
“He also said he would be in heaven to greet us,” Obbi sneered, “and we nearly laid eye on him this very day.”
Karr raised an eyebrow. “Was it not you who said I should command the ship?”
“‘Tis doubtful,” Obbi answered.
“Aye, ‘twas him,” Hani argued, “and we all agreed.”
“Only because the lot of you dinna want to be the one to sink us,” Karr reminded them. “If you have changed your minds, I shall hear about it now.”
“Leave him be,” Magnus said. “We are alive and I doubt any of us could have done better.” It was no surprise that Magnus stood up for Karr, for he always did.
Steinn, the brother born between Hani and Magnus didn’t care who did what. He was more interested in making sure there wasn’t a hole in the bottom of the ship, and that all the oar hole disks were properly placed to keep the water out. There was another plugged hole in the ship, one which allowed them to release excess water when heavy rain threatened to sink them. It was next to that hole he would most often sit.
“Then you have not changed your minds?” Karr looked from brother to brother, saw each shake his head and then turned back to Obbi. “And you, brother, what say you?”
Obbi sighed. “I say we should all learn to steer, lest a sea monster swallows you up and the rest of us are lost forever.”
“I agree,” said Karr.
Obbi wrinkled his brow. “You do?”
“I do and we’ve plenty of time to...”
“Look,” Nikolas interrupted. Born after Magnus, but before Almoor and Obbi, he pointed toward the shore. The fog was beginning to lift and in the distance, they could see the beautiful green landscape and the majestic snowcapped mountains of Norway.
“Take a good long look, lads,” Hani whispered, “‘tis the last we shall see of home.”
Each was lost in his own thoughts and none of them spoke as the place of their birth, and the burial place of everyone they loved, slowly decreased in size. It was indeed a wondrous land once filled with love and laughter, but to stay meant living the kind of life Anundi lived – the kind he vowed his grandsons would never see. “See Scotland, laddie,” Anundi said with his last breath. “See her, give her your pledge, and love her well.”
Karr promised they would and he had been true to his vow, but he was worried. He remembered his grandfather’s instructions well. He should, Anundi began teaching him when he was not yet eleven, and repeated everything again and again, until Karr could recite it in his sleep. They were away, just as Anundi said they would be, but did they bring enough provisions, would it rain often enough to fill their water barrels, and more importantly, would the Vikings give chase? He took a forgotten breath and turned the rudder until the rising sun was just above his right shoulder. It was a technique he would use often to keep them on a necessary southwesterly course.
With the wind lifting the ends of his long blond hair, the nearly seven foot giant with strikingly defined features, turned his thoughts to something far more desirable. He wanted a wife, and according to Anundi, the women of Scotland were more pleasing than most. He was not certain what kind of wife he wanted, but one thing was for sure – he dreamed of her often enough and he would know her when he saw her. His mind filled with thoughts of her, he looked out over the endless water with excited hope in his heart.
––––––––
End of sample chapter.
Pick up your copy of The Viking’s Daughter today!
Read Also:
The Vikings Daughter, book 2 - The Viking’s Son, Book 3 – The Viking’s Bride, book 4, The Viking’s Honor, book 5 – Viking Blood, book 5 – The Unwanted Bride, book 7
