A Viking Moon by T M Rowe

The three of them stood there in the moonlit darkness, chests heaving, silent, as the implication of what had been said sunk in. Sarah had heard some of the warriors talking about the Kurlanders, mostly in disgust and she remembered Geir accusing her of being a Kur spy.

  As far as she could tell from her appalling knowledge of the geography of the area, they were a group of people that lived somewhere on the northern tip of what she assumed is now modern Latvia. Much like her Vikings they too spent their summers being occupied by activities such as raiding and general piracy.

  Unfortunately, the raiding and piracy was usually directed towards the Danes, and in all fairness it wasn’t a one way street, hence the enmity between the two groups. For the children that had been taken this was the worst possible news.

  “Why did they take the children? I mean, I can understand Rolf and Harald because they could ransom them, assuming they know who they are but why the others?” Sarah asked, speaking her thoughts out loud to no one in particular. Hakon finally deigned to look in her direction;

  “No, as much as it pains me to say it, you are right. The others have been taken so that they can be sold as slaves” Hakon said with finality, Sarah’s heart sank to her toes.

  “Excuse the stupid question, but who buys small children as slaves?” Even before the words were out of her mouth she knew the answer, Arab merchants. Slave traders preferred young children for many reasons, they are easier to control, they eat less and they are easily indoctrinated into slavery. Not to mention their resale value was much higher than an adult. Shuddering as she thought of how frightened those little ones must be, she brought her attention back to the two boys standing in front of her. Hakon was still speaking.

  “The Kur dogs will take the youngsters to a market place where they will be sold to Arab merchants in exchange for silver. Those scum would sell their own mothers for Arab silver” exclaimed Hakon.

  Sarah raised an eyebrow as from what she could remember from the readings her dad had given her, Arab silver was highly coveted all over the Viking world and she was pretty sure that if the shoe was on the other foot, so to speak, the Kurlanders would be saying the same thing.

  “Come on then, we had better tell mother” said Leif, who had been quiet throughout this little exchange, turning away.

  “No, wait Leif” said Sarah, “surely the longer we spend talking about stuff the less chance we have of getting the children back before they are sold at some market and taken very far away?” Sarah looked from brother to brother. “After all, your little brothers are amongst that lot. Look, if we go now we could be on their tails fairly quickly, couldn’t we?”

  “What go after them? Are you mad? They’re armed warriors and we’re…well we’re not” spluttered Leif, looking to his brother for support.

  Hakon narrowed his eyes, thoughts of glory coming to the surface but hating to admit it, “We don’t have a ship fast enough to catch them on open water, theirs was a snekke much like Father’s, small but fast and anyway we don’t have a crew”.

  “Ok, can you hazard a guess as to where they might make landfall, or what market they might take the children to?” asked Sarah, realising that from his tone he actually considered the possibility. Leif opened his mouth to object once more.

  “Be quiet Leif and let me think” Leif’s mouth closed with an audible snap. Eventually, after what seemed like hours of thinking, he spoke.

  “They might head south to the coast of the Wends and then follow the coast line, probably not too closely until they reach their lands north of the Pols. I expect that they would then land and replenish their supplies before heading north again. I heard Father talking to some merchants a few weeks ago about a trading post in the land of the Chud on the edge of a great lake. They called it Aldeigjuborg and said that although it is used as a staging post for merchants going east, recently some Arab merchants had arrived there from the east. There had been talk that they were looking for particular merchandise, I didn’t know what they meant at the time but from the look they gave father…” Hakon trailed off.

  Shaking himself, Hakon looked at Sarah and Leif “Right, here’s the plan. Sarah, you go back to the hall and tell mother what has happened, meanwhile Leif and I will take one of the small fishing boats and hopefully follow those dogs, tell mother to send…”

  “Hang on minute, no way, send Leif back to Astrid, I’m going with you” proclaimed Sarah in a voice that dared anyone to argue. This, of course, was exactly what the brothers were going to do.

  “You can’t come”

  “Give me one good reason” glared Sarah.

  “Well, well, because you’re, you’re a girl” said Hakon realising that was a pretty weak argument.

  “Well I’m not staying behind, besides you will need me, I’m a better navigator then you Hakon” Leif chimed in. Hakon silently agreed with his brother, he was a better navigator and if this rescue was going to happen he would need him. But Sarah was another issue. He knew she wasn’t going to readily agree to staying behind and so decided to use her own argument against her.

  “Can you give me one good reason why you should come with us?” he asked Sarah.

  For a moment her mind went blank, being put on the spot like that doesn’t help with coherency. Her hand went to her amulet still tucked under her tunic, warm against her skin, and in a flash it came to her.

  “Because this is what I came here to do. This is my reason for being here, the volur told me that I would have a journey and that I would save the future of the village. Can you deny her prophecy knowing that if you do you will fail?”

  It felt a little dramatic to say it but in her heart she knew that this was true and even if the volur hadn’t used those exact words, she was sure the gods wouldn’t mind her taking liberties to convince this puffed up Viking boy that she was needed. Her words took both Hakon and Leif by surprise. They had forgotten the visit from the volur. Both boys glanced at each other, neither wanting to gainsay the gods they reluctantly nodded their agreement.

  “Right, well we had better get a move on. We will take one of the byrdings, as it is small enough that we three can manage it if we rely mainly on the sail,” said Hakon attempting to keep control of the situation.

  “Sorry to point this out, but what about mother? I mean, Rolf and Harald kidnapped, father and Erick away fighting and then we both disappear without a word – she won’t be happy” Leif pointed out in what must have been the understatement of the year.

  Hakon sighed but it was Sarah who replied, “It’ll be fine” she said with a bravado she didn’t really feel, “I am sure your mother and Ulf will be able to work out what has happened and when we get back with the children they will be too happy to punish us – imagine coming home after this adventure? You two will be heroes! Besides you can always blame me.”

  Sarah pushed back the dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her and turn her into a gibbering wreck. It was fair to say that the thought of the three of them going off into the unknown, after warriors that had already taken the life of two of their own experienced warriors absolutely terrified her but once again the amulet glowed warm on her skin and she knew it was the right thing to do.

  With a final glance back up the path to the village the two brothers and Sarah headed quickly down to the beach where the steading’s vessels were beached. They had been lucky that the raiders did not hole any of the vessels, they were obviously confident that no one would dare to follow them.

  Sarah hoped that this was a good sign whilst Hakon had grunted about how sloppy they were and if they had been under his command it would have been the first thing he would done. Leif merely rolled his eyes and jogged over to the shed that housed much of the boating things and collected the sail for the small vessel they were going to use.

  Within minutes the boys had attached the sail, loading water and other provisions onto the boat. Neither had thought to bring weapons with them but they did find a filleti
ng knife each and after a quick think Hakon ran off into the dark, returning with a sword in its scabbard and a sceax.

  “Gunnar would want us to use them, especially if it means sending his murderers to Hel” declared Hakon with a grim look on his face. Sarah remembered that Gunnar, Ivar and the other warriors were all part of the boys extended family and to them they were like uncles who taught them how to be men. Instinctively she wanted to comfort but did not know how. Hakon handed the sceax to Leif, who looked at Sarah apologetically.

  “It’s ok, I still have the throwing knives Ulf gave me” she said smiling patting the area around her waist where the knives were hidden under her tunic. “Suppose I should wear them on the outside now, just in case…” she muttered under her breath to no one in particular, not really wanting to think of a reason why she might actually want to use them. Even so she took them out from under her tunic and fixed them to her belt.

  Sarah silently commended herself for choosing to wear the more practical boys clothing as she could not imagine trying to sail a boat and rescue the children bogged down in a dress and apron. The mere thought bought a slightly manic smile to her face and an overwhelming urge to giggle both of which she managed to hide from the boys just in case they thought she had lost the plot.

  The three grabbed a section of the boat each and heaved it into the gently lapping waves of the bay, hopping on board once it was afloat. The boys manned the oars and with Sarah at the steering oar slowly made their way into open waters. Resolute in their course of action, not once did they look towards the shore and home.

  Chapter Eight

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]