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KANNAK NEEDED A HUSBAND.
She did not want one and was not at all convinced she would know what to do with one, but now that her father neglected to return, life promised to be extremely difficult for a mother and daughter trying to survive alone. Marriage was Kannak’s idea and her mother flatly refused to consider it, but in the end Kannak could think of no other answer.
There were stipulations of course, for the two had talked of the man she would marry. “See that he has the strength of an ox, does not take to strong drink and has good teeth,” her mother instructed. As she mounted her horse, Kannak wondered just how she could ask a man to show his teeth before she married him. But she decided she would puzzle that out later.
They were members of Clan Macoran and lived in a cottage on the north side of the river that separated clan Macoran from Clan Limond. Clan Macoran’s land lay in a wide “L” shape at the foot of the gradual slope of a high hill. Small farms dotted the longer part of the bend that bordered the river while the other end stretched north along the eastern coast of Scotland. Clan Limond owned the flatter land to the south of the river.
For the most part, the two clans were peaceful, although there were disputes from time to time over livestock, fishing and women. Mostly they fought over the salmon in the river but sometimes over women, of which there never seemed to be enough. Women died in childbirth and men died in battle, but when there were as few wars as there had been lately, the men outlived two and sometimes three wives.
Kannak wore her long, auburn hair in a loose braid down the middle of her back and for this occasion, she looked as best she could in her woolen, ankle-length, unbelted frock. It was a pale gray with wide sleeves and since it was such a special occasion, she also wore a long under shirt of soft linen. The under garment was a gift from her uncle who lived in the far north. Her shoes were clean, her face scrubbed and she guessed that would have to be enough to attract a husband.
She considered herself to be exceptionally strong of heart and mind, but as she turned her horse and rode away, a sickness stirred in her stomach. She was, after all, but thirteen years of age and had not considered taking a husband so soon. Her mother’s description of how children were conceived served to increase her anxiety and that too she wanted desperately to consider later.
But she simply could think of no other way. It was spring and their small plot of land needed more tending than two women could manage. Even if they could manage alone, they could not grow enough extra grain, barley or peas to trade for necessities such as salt, tools and weapons.
It was of weapons they were most concerned. Her father had taken them all when he left, except for a long bow neither of them was strong enough to draw. Her father normally bartered their cheese, milk and eggs for what they needed. But such small offerings were not enough to gain the gold and silver coins with which to pay the smithy for sound weapons. Therefore, Kannak needed a husband. Only a husband who brought his own weapons to the marriage could protect them.
Instead of following the path along the edge of the river that would take her around the wide bend to the village, Kannak decided to ride up the gradual slope through the trees to the top of the high land that overlooked both the home of her clan, the shore and the magnificent ocean beyond.
As always, when she reached the top, the sight of the endless water and the smell of the fresh sea air took her breath away. Looking at the ocean was the thing she loved most and she was tempted to just sit her horse and spend the rest of the day watching the waves crashing against the rocks. She was about to head down the other side of the hill to the village when she paused to reconsider. Surely there was another way.
There was one other option, but she dared not consider it – she could tell Laird Macoran of their troubles. Once it was clear her father was not coming back, she suggested they ask Laird Macoran for help. Her mother flatly refused and said it so sternly, Kannak did not argue. But just now she was tempted to risk her mother’s ire. It was, after all, the duty of the laird to see that all the members of the clan were well taken care of. Besides, Jirvel was likely to be just as enraged when she returned with a husband.
Kannak sighed and watched a seagull glide out over the ocean. The air smelled fresh, a gentle breeze made the leaves in the trees rustle and it was such a pleasant day, she had to force herself to think clearly – take a husband or tell Laird Macoran? How was she ever to make the right decision?
*
IT WAS MIDMORNING WHEN the Vikings spotted land. A small village was also coming into view which meant they would not have to sail north or south to find one. It would also be an easy mark for only three Viking ships. If the wind continued to blow steady as it was now, they could strike and be on their way back before dark. The men quickly gathered their weapons, put off their cloaks, donned their head gear and made ready to row. The mood aboard ship was a mixture of excitement and contemplation during which Stefan gained the advice of nearly every man. “Yer land legs’ll deceive ye, laddie...find a plump lass...dare not turn yer back on a Scot...”
But then the men began to row to the mark of the stroke and the closer they got to land, the stronger Stefan’s foreboding became. The village was set well back, which meant the Vikings had to run up the beach, climb several rocks and cover more open ground to reach the village. Surely the Scots would try to strike them down before they got over the rocks.
The mark of the stroke kept a steady beat, but Stefan’s heart was pounding three times faster. There were no Scots coming to fight them on the shore and he saw only two women running from the village in an effort to hide themselves and their children. This was nothing at all like the glorious tales told nightly of the Viking men fighting and dying at the water’s edge.
Standing in the stern of the ship, Stefan studied his father’s face, but Donar was calm and had an air of confidence about him as though he was certain the Vikings could survive anything the Scots could throw at them. He had not even put on his helmet with the nose protector, therefore Stefan did not put his on either. If his father believed it, then Stefan was willing to believe it as well. Stefan did, however, check the position of the sword and dagger tied around his waist repeatedly.
What the Vikings preferred was hand to hand combat, mainly the use of their long handled axes, but on the shore of Scotland, clan Macoran preferred something a little less one-on-one. Hidden in every place it was possible for a man to hide, they waited until the boats docked and the invaders began to jump from the ships before they loaded their arrows and drew their bow strings back.
Stefan was certain the greatest longships carrying the greatest commander and the best trained Viking warriors in the world were that day heading into a trap. But if Donar suspected the same, he did not let on, turn his ships back, or even slow their pace.
The Vikings beached the longships in the sand with a forceful thud that surprised Stefan and he almost lost his balance. The men in the bow of the ship jumped to the ground first and Stefan was right in line behind them. As soon as the man in front of him jumped, so did Stefan. But after weeks at sea, his knees buckled when he hit the hard sand and he feared he’d broken both his legs.
In his excitement, he forgot to get his shield and Stefan was about to draw his sword when his father grabbed hold of his arm and began to pull him down the shore away from the river, away from the village and away from the battle. “Run!” he heard Donar shout.
*
IT WAS NOT REALLY KANNAK’S horse. In fact, she had no idea where the horse came from. The day before, it just showed up. It had a shiny coat as black as night, a black mane and tail and there was not a mark of any other color anywhere, not even a touch of white on his nose. It held its head high and beyond a doubt it was the most beautiful stallion she had ever seen. Kannak was certain it belonged to a wealthy laird or perhaps the King of Scotland who would come looking for it. But no one had come as yet, therefore the horse was hers as much as it was anyone’s.
Their old horse was yet another thing her father took with him, together with their only saddle and bridle. When the stallion walked down the path to their cottage, Kannak had no way to capture it without a bridle. But to her amazement, the horse stood still, let her get a running start, grab a handful of mane and swing up. She ignored her mother’s worry, rode him all around the property and discovered if she patted the side of his neck twice, the horse would stop. When night came she feared the stallion would be gone by morning, but he was not and she was delighted.
It was then, seated on the stallion on the crest of the hill, that she realized there must be some sort of fight in the village below. The village did not appear to be on fire, for there was no more smoke than the normal outside fires produced, but she thought she could...no she absolutely could hear the clash of swords and the shouts of men. She moved the horse to another vantage point and one look at the shore told her everything she needed to know.
“The Viking dogs are back,” she breathed. Three deserted Viking ships were run aground on the shore. “Now what do I do?” She raised her eyes to the peaceful blue sky and said a silent prayer. The answer to her prayer, she was to discover, would soon be running up the hill toward her.
*
“RUN,” HIS FATHER SHOUTED again. Stefan was so terrified of being shot in the back, he need not be told to run. It was a terror that would not leave him all the days of his life. Moments before, as they ran down the sandy beach from the ship, a barrage of arrows began whizzing past them from behind. He felt Donar grab his arm a second time, pull him over the rocks toward the trees at the bottom of a hill and then shove him ahead. Running as fast as he could, he darted through the trees, found a path and kept running uphill until he realized he could no longer hear his father behind him. He quickly glanced back, spotted Donar on the ground and stopped.
He could hear the Scots shouting and growing closer, but he ignored them. His father lay on his side with one arm outstretched as if reaching for his son and Donar wasn’t moving. Stefan hurried back, knelt down, put his hand on his father’s shoulder and then noticed the arrow sticking out of the middle of his father’s back. Blood covered most of Donar’s backside and was still trickling out of the jagged wound. “Nay, father,” he whispered, but when he looked, the life was already gone from Donar’s eyes.
He looked for his father’s red and gold shield, but it was nowhere in sight. Then he thought to remove his father’s sword and sheath, but he could hear the men’s shouts getting louder, knew they were coming his way and his fear won out. Quickly, he lovingly touched his father’s head, grabbed Donar’s long handled, three-pronged spear, got up and ran back up the hill.
The Scots were getting closer but his long legs and youth gave him a slight advantage. In the small clearing at the top, he spotted a girl on a horse, put a finger to his lips, prayed she would not tell on him, and looked for a place to hide. The trees were too narrow and too far apart to conceal him and the only place he could find was a rock not quite large enough. He ran to it, crouched down and tried to slow his breathing. Soon he realized there was no place to hide the spear, so he tossed it away. Then, to his amazement, the girl positioned her horse between him and the Scots.
Two men with red hair and drawn swords burst through the trees and were surprised to see Kannak. They stopped to catch their breath for a moment and then looked around. “Did a Viking come this way, lassie?”
Kannak widened her eyes. “A Viking!” She quickly crossed herself. “May God protect us.”
It was enough of an answer. One of the men muttered as he led the other one away, “I could have sworn I saw two.”
She waited until she could no longer see or hear the Scots and motioned for the boy to come to her. She watched him recover his spear, climb up on the rock and then felt him mount behind her. A second later she urged the horse forward.
But they had only made it to another small clearing when Stefan slipped his legs under hers so she could not kick the side of the horse, pinned her arms with his free arm and said, “Stad.”
The horse halted at the stranger’s command and at first Kannak was only taken aback, but then she became frightened. The Viking was surprisingly strong and in her haste to solve her problem, she had not considered having to fight him.
Stefan felt her tremble, put his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “I will not harm ye.”
He spoke her language and it comforted her enough to let her relax against him. Just as Stefan did, Kannak turned to look through the trees at what was happening on the shore below.
His father’s ship was still beached in the sand, but in the other two ships the Vikings had their oars in the water and were swiftly rowing away. His father’s men, his cherished Vikings, the men he called friends, were leaving his father’s body and their commander’s son behind. It was a sight he could never have imagined seeing and it took a while to accept the truth of it. Slowly, he moved his legs back and released his grip on the girl’s arms.
Just as slowly, Kannak nudged the horse’s flanks and turned them toward home. She was relieved. He promised not to harm her and so far, his word was good. Perhaps not all Vikings were vicious, murdering dogs after all. All she had to do now was convince her mother of that. She waited until they were well away before she spoke. “What be yer name?”
The hurt in Stefan’s heart was so overwhelming all he wanted to do was bellow his rage and keep bellowing until his sorrow subsided. But he did not. He kept quiet, not trusting himself to speak for fear he would cry out – or worse, weep like a child.
“Never mind yer name, then. How good are ye at lying?” Kannak covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “What am I saying? Everyone knows a word from the mouth o’ a Viking be bound to be a lie.” Then she got somber again. “Taking ye home will not be easy, not without a lie, that is. Let me think. We will say ye have come from my uncle in the north to help us work the land. Aye, I think she will believe it; we truly do have family in the north. We can offer ye a warm bed and whatever food we manage to have, which be very little at the moment.”
She paused just to see if he cared to contribute to the conversation, but he did not. “There be the tithe, ye see. The priest has promised eternal damnation o’ our very souls if we dinna pay. Never have I heard o’ anyone refusing, although sorely I am tempted to be the first. On the other hand, if we dinna have food soon, it will be we who must go to the priests and beg for a meal or two. The priests will not deny us, not if they deem us truly hungry.”
Again she waited. Again he said nothing. At last they reached the bottom of the hill and turned down the path that led away from the village. “The muddle o’ it be, we have no weapons to hunt with. It be spring, we have eaten our winter store and we need a man to help us. First, we must do something about yer hair.”
“What be wrong with my hair?”
Kannak smiled. “Ye look like a Viking. Scotsmen dinna wear their hair that long.” She patted the side of the horse’s neck to halt him and swung her leg over so she could sit sideways. Kannak folded her hands in her lap and took a long look at Stefan’s face. “Ye are but a laddie. Oh well, ye will have to do. I say we make our bargain now. I have saved yer life. In return, ye will save ours.”
It was not an unreasonable request, he thought. What she said was true, she did save his life and where else could he go? But he could not believe the Vikings would not come back for him. He imagined them sailing only to the horizon and then coming back...perhaps tomorrow. “I will think on it.”
“And that be the best I can hope for...ye will think on it?”
“Aye.”
“I see.” Kannak glared at him. “At least I will not have to marry ye.”
“I dinna want a wife.”
“Well bletherskite, I dinna want a husband either.” She tilted her head and suspiciously eyed him. “How be it ye speak my language?”
“My mother was a Scot.”
“Fancy that, bletherskite, so be my mother.”
The last thing in the world he felt like doing was smiling, but this little slip of a girl with a face overrun by freckles and dimples calling him a silly talker, was making him do just that. “I am Stefan.”
“Stefan...it be a Viking name, but I have heard it afore. My father named me Kannak.”
“A Viking name?”
Both her eyebrows shot up, “Ye know this name? Be it truly a Viking name?” She watched his eyes and nearly forgot to draw breath until his mouth began to curve into a smile. “Ye are lying.”
“All Vikings lie, ye said so yerself.”
“That I did.” She grabbed hold of his arm and slid down off the horse. “Come with me to the river and I will cut yer hair. Ye have a blade, do ye not?”
