Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy) (5 page)

“Don’t be afraid,” the figure said and Emer recognised Atli’s voice.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“There is a place for you on my ship, if you would prefer to journey north rather than south,” he said quietly.

“
I have no wish to be your slave!”

“Someone with your gift will never be a slave. Knowing the future is a skill I have only ever heard of before, never witnessed.”

“How do you know about my dream?”

“I listened
to you telling your story. Dag thought I was asleep.”

“I didn
’t mean you to overhear.”

“As well for you I did. If what you dreamed comes true, your father will no longer be on
Skuy
when your friends return to look for him there. He’ll be far out at sea; too far for them to follow in their longship.
Kufri
owns one of the special ships that travel on the deep oceans and he trades with the
Landnám
islands amongst other places. He told me he goes there several times a year. As it happens, I own another of these ships, which my son sails for me. The journeys are often unpleasant and I am getting too old for such things now. Rolf is young, keen and a good sailor. He can easily take us there. If you will return with me to
Skuy,
I’ll give you passage on Rolf’s ship and sufficient silver to buy your father’s freedom.”

“Why would you do such a thing for me?”

“In return, once your father has returned home, I want you to remain in my house as the wife of my son. When I ask you to do it, mix your substances and dream your dreams so I shall know what is about to happen. I have several trading ventures which are risky and I would be very glad to find out whether they will succeed or not.”

“
You spoke of marriage. There is something I must tell you. I cannot be sure I would be able to dream again once I am married. When I was born my mother never dreamed again, nor did her own grandmother, although my…” Emer stopped herself suddenly.

“Go on
— what were you going to say? My?”

Emer bit her lip, her thoughts whirling wildly but she could not find words to explain her slip.

“My grandfather begot a child and yet his visions continued.”

“So this
ability to dream occurs in men and only in women who have never been pregnant? Is that so?”

Emer nodded.

“Then my offer still stands. If you have no baby you will dream for me, or, if you do, your children will. Do you accept?

“I would never see my mother again
if I agreed to your proposal!” Emer’s tears leapt into her eyes at the thought.

“Your home is f
ive days at most from
Skuy
. My son shall take you to visit your mother. What do you say?”

“Do I have time to think about it?”

“You have until first light, when Dag proposes to sail. If you wish to come with me, creep out while he is making his farewells to Dubne. A boat will be waiting for you. They won’t follow you onto my ship and, if they did, there are places where you may lie concealed.”

Emer spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying to make up her mind. If she returned home with Dag, she would be with her friends and
her mother again. She would also be in time to help with the birth of her brother or sister. Yet she had a shrewd suspicion that another voyage north to search for Olaf would not be anyone’s priority except her own and her mother’s. Even if it was, she would be unlikely to be taken on the next trip. Could she sit idly at home while terrible things might be happening to her father?

I
f Atli meant all he said,
Fadir
would be free and able to return to her mother. Yet she knew nothing of Atli or the place he lived. She would live her life far away from her home and her own people, perhaps never see them again, if her husband did not choose to take her there.

Atli
was a slave trader. What was there to stop him selling her as a slave? She felt vulnerable and scared at the thought. Yet he had said a girl with her gift would never be a slave. She turned his words over in his mind. They had the ring of truth. He valued her for this awful ability she had inherited from her mother. Perhaps he
would
treat her well and let her find her father. The price would be to wed this unknown boy. She realised suddenly that she had always expected to marry Finnr, one day. They had never spoken about it, but she thought he had become more interested in her now she was growing up. Could she give him up? If she must, it would be kinder to do it before anything was settled and Finnr considered her to be his own. The choice came down to instinct in the end. It was a gamble and she had always been impulsive.

Before the light was in the sky, Emer crept from her bed and left the longhouse. She
slipped away towards the beach where, sure enough, a small skiff was waiting.

“Who are you?” a gruff voice
grunted out of the darkness and a shape loomed over her.

“My name is Emer…
” she faltered.

“I have been told to wait here for you and row you out to the ship.”

“That’s right.”

The man swept her up in his arms and waded out through the waves. He put her down in the boat and climbed in himself.

“No sense in getting your pretty little feet wet, is there?”

Emer did not answer
, although she felt a little chill of fear at the familiarity. It was too late now, she was committed. Even if she threw herself over the side, he would be able to catch her. Soon enough she was scrambling up the steep side of the merchant ship with the man who had rowed her there boosting her up from below.

“So you decided to come with us.”
Atli came up to her. “You won’t regret it.”

“
Swear to me on your sword hilt that, by Odin, you will take me to my father and set him free,” Emer demanded, quoting her father’s favourite oath. “In return, when he is home, I will  marry your son and do whatever else you ask of me.”

Atli laughed. “Do you doubt me?”

“A little.”

Atli laughed again. He shook back his cloak and unsheathed his sword. Holding it in one hand he said,

“By Odin, I swear I will take you to find your father, free him and take him back to his family.” He lowered the sword so the point rested on the floor. Then he held out the sword hilt to Emer. She took it in both her hands, steadying it.

“By Odin, I swear that, once my father is free, I will do anything Atli asks of me
,” she said.

“Good.” Atli sheathed his sword again. “Now go with Gaggar. We leave at once.”

The sky began to lighten. By then, the boat was well out to sea and about to pass the headland to the north of the settlement. Emer leaned on the rail, looking backwards towards her friends. She wondered if she would ever see any of them again and if they had discovered her absence. There was no sign of anything unusual, so she thought they had probably not missed her yet. Then the land cut off her view and she slumped back onto the bale of wool she had been given to sit on. It was some time later when Atli came to find her.

“I have food for you, come.”

A small brazier had been set up in the space around the mast. Atli gave her a beaker of a hot, sweet tasting drink that ran through her veins like fire. A bannock and some fried fish completed the meal.

“How long is it to
Skuy
?” Emer asked when she had satisfied her hunger.

“If this wind holds and does not drop
any further, by tomorrow night you will feast in my hall,” Atli promised her.

5

Skuy
, when Emer first saw it, looked a forbidding place. Huge dark cliffs, like the wings of some great bird seemed to rise out of the sea to surround her. She felt trapped and had to breathe hard to dispel the illusion. Atli came up beside her and pointed down a narrow winding inlet.

“My home lies at the end of this fjord and my sons will be watching for my return. I bid you welcome.”

Emer smiled, although she looked strained. “Thank you.”

As they rounded the final corner, the settlement became visible, a cluster of huts
with a big longhouse in the middle. A small quay had been built out into the deeper water. Boats lay on the narrow beach or were tied up alongside the jetty. Some of them seemed to be under repair or being built, because fires burned brightly and the sound of hammers rang out, echoing from the surrounding hills. The boat was seen, for someone shouted and people waved. Willing hands caught the ropes that were tossed to them from the trading ship and they were quickly made fast.

“Welcome home.” A tall, thin woman
who was richly dressed came forward to greet them as they stepped up onto the quay.

“This is my wife, Drifa,
the mother of my youngest son.” Atli drew Emer forward. “This is Emer Olafsdottir, our guest. Attend to her needs,” he ordered.

Drifa nodded but she did not look pleased and her voice was sharp as she said
to Emer,

“Come with me.”

She led the way through the crowd who had gathered. Emer followed, the centre of all eyes. Most were curious, some open and some hostile. She was glad when she was able to escape into the darkness of the bathing hut.

“You will want to bathe and change your clothing,” Drifa said, “while a meal is prepared
for you and the others who have just arrived. Your things will be brought to you from the ship.”

“I have none.” Emer found it hard to meet the woman’s startled glance. “I left in a hurry with no time to pack.”

“Then I will send clothes to you. In the meanwhile, Freydis, here, will see to your needs.”

The woman swept out and a young girl came forward
out of the shadows.

“The tub is over here,
Lady, and this is the peg for your things.”

“Thank you.” As Emer moved forwards, the firelight flickered over her companion’s face. The girl was a
few years older than she was, with a round face and dark hair in two long braids. “But I am no lady. My name is Emer Olafsdottir.”

“And I am Freydis Jarnisdottir.
Welcome to
Skuy
.”

Freydis helped Emer
climb into the tub and she sank into the warm water with a deep sign of relief. It was days since she had used the small tub her father had built for them at home. All at once, grief for her past life swept over her and she found she was sobbing uncontrollably. When she had no more tears to shed, a hand came over the side of the bath and Freydis gave her a beaker of sweet mead.

“Drink this and you will feel better,” she said.

Emer did so and found it helped, a little. She handed the beaker back and scrubbed her face clean. She had barely done so when an older woman came into the bathhouse carrying a bundle of clothes. She sniffed when she saw Emer peering at her.

“Drifa sends these clothes for you, stranger. She says you are to go to her in the hall when you are dressed.”
She plonked her bundle onto one of the benches, turned on her heel and left.

“Who is
that
?” Emer asked.

“Her name is Halla. She’s Drifa’s body-servant and messenger.”

“Why doesn’t she like me? I’ve never seen her before.”

“She doesn’t like any
body except Drifa. Watch out for her, I do. Hurry now. We must get you dry and clothed. Drifa will not be pleased, if she is kept waiting.”

The
garments were clean and of good quality although they were worn. The hem of the dark green tunic had been mended several times and the leggings were frayed at the top. Nevertheless, they were both better than Emer’s own clothing, which had seen rough usage in the last few days. Freydis gave her the pair of soft leather shoes and gathered up Emer’s discarded clothes.

“Leave these with me and I will launder th
em for you.”

“Oh no, I have nothing to pay you with,” Emer said, realising again how little she possessed of her own.

“No payment is necessary. I’m sure you’ll find a way to help me in return,” Freydis answered. “That’s a fine stone you are hanging round your neck.”

Emer tied the leather thong carefully. “It
’s an heirloom of my house. It was my grandfather’s many years ago and is now mine. The only thing I own that reminds me of home.”

“The gods help you then. Better it were silver, as far as Drifa is concerned.”

Emer only smiled, unwilling to share the stone’s secret with anyone, even such a friendly girl as Freydis. She began to plait her long fair hair and twisted it up on top of her head.

“Wait a moment.” Freydis went to the other end of the bathhouse and returned with a strip of leather which she used to secure the wet braids.

“There, you look well now. Come with me and I will take you to Drifa.”

The hall took up most of the longhouse, with
large fires burning at intervals along its length. Before one of these hearths, Drifa was sitting in a fine carved chair, sewing. She looked up when Emer approached and seemed to assess her critically. Emer found it hard to meet her eyes, but she forced herself to do so. The woman was trying to cow her and she knew she would be wise not to let her succeed.

“Sit.” Drifa pointed to a small stool. Emer sat down and found herself looking up at the
older woman.

“Well
, you look tidier now.”

“
Thank you for the loan of these clothes.”

“Your own are cert
ainly not fit to be worn again here. Atli has told me a part of your story, but not why you were on board a longship and totally without possessions. What made you leave your home so abruptly?”

Emer
gave her a shortened version of her story and Drifa listened carefully saying nothing until she had finished.

“Atli said you
are a dreamer and will be useful to us in the future. Personally I have no use for dreamers, only for those who work hard and do what they are told to do.”

“I
am used to working. I did not sit idly in the house while others laboured for me. I intend not to be a burden. I promised Atli that I would do as he asked me, once my father was free and had returned to our home.”

“
What did you hope to gain by coming here?”

“My
father’s freedom. Atli promised to ransom him,” Emer said.

“
So he told me, but your father is long gone from here.”

“I know.”

“You know? How can you? You have only just arrived here. Has Freydis been gossiping? I will take a stick to her.”

“
No. She didn’t tell me, no one did. I saw
Fadir
land on an island far out upon the ocean. Atli thought the place I described was called
Landnám
.”

“
How did you see him? One of your dreams I suppose?”

“Yes
, it was.”

“Trust
a man to be taken in by a pretty face and a tall story. Only those things we can touch are real and all the rest are fantasies. I believe none of it.” Drifa looked at her disdainfully, her mouth pursed.
Emer stiffened and her temper rose. She started to respond when Atli entered the house, two young men following at his heels.

Afterwards Emer was glad she had not spoken
. Drifa was the type of woman it was wiser not to offend, especially since she had to live beneath her roof. The truth was that the smaller of the two youths distracted her. He walked forward with a lithe grace and he smiled at her. Emer’s heart started to beat faster. As he came nearer, she saw that he had dark curly hair and a thin moustache. He was dressed in a tunic that seemed to fit him tightly, almost like another skin. She could see his muscles ripple through the thin leather and he had a good figure. His eyes were dark and twinkling. He strode forward, a step behind Atli, as if he thought all the world belonged to him. Atli held out his hand to Emer and drew her forward.

“This is my
second son, Rolf, he said, “and this is Hari, my oldest son. Hari will be your husband.”

Emer
had a sudden pang of dismay. Hari, not Rolf! She had hardly glanced at the older boy. She looked at him now. He was a gangling youth, very tall and slightly stooped, as if he was ashamed of his height. His long hair flamed with the red of the bracken in winter. He wore a long dark robe and a cloak which hid his shape. He put her in mind of an old hermit she had once seen. She was grateful he lacked the rank smell of the old recluse. She could not really see his face, with his head drooped. He did not look at her; keeping his eyes firmly on the ground. Hari seemed to have no curiosity, only a sullen resentment. Suddenly she realised that Atli must have told his sons about his plans and they were not to Hari’s taste.

Rolf
, on the other hand, stared at her boldly, as if he was enjoying the situation and his brother’s discomfort. She caught a flash of speculation in his eyes and then, as Atli turned his head for a moment, Rolf winked at her. If their roles were reversed, she was sure Rolf would have no hesitation in taking her one way or the other. He would relish the opportunity. She wondered how she would react if he made the attempt. She would find it hard to say no to him; nor would he expect her to do so. He seemed well aware of his own charm. Not many women must have refused him in the past. She wondered how many he had lain with since he had grown to manhood. He was young but already a man. No one, she decided, would ever take Rolf and Hari for brothers. 

“Let us become better acquainted.” Atli sat down by the fire and
his sons took seats on either side of him. Drifa rose and went out, returning with a servant carrying horns of strong ale. It was not a drink Emer liked, but she had tasted it before and had been taught the associated customs so she made no mistakes. Once the ale was served, Atli gestured sharply to his wife. Drifa turned on her heel and flounced off to the other end of the hall.

“I told my sons your story and the things we must do
now,” Atli said. “I have ordered Rolf to outfit his ship for a voyage to the
Landnám
islands. I have traded there before, some years ago, and they are always in need of goods. They mainly send us salt fish in return because they have little else of value. It’s a long way, but if this weather holds the journey will be swift.”

“Have you thought,
Fadir
, that Olaf Eirikson may no longer be there?” Rolf asked.

“He
’s there,” Emer said firmly, feeling certain. They stared at her and she saw Hari’s jaw drop slightly. “I did not see him leave.”

“Perhaps you should dream again, so we can be sure,”
Rolf suggested, with a grin.

“I
can’t dream whenever I please,” she said sharply. “I have only ever dreamed of the future twice and those visions came without warning. I don’t know how and when the next one will come.”

“You mentioned your grandfather used a mixture of soils to make his
visions appear when he needed them to do so. If you will tell me what you need, I will have my son fetch them for you. Then you may try the trick yourself,” Atli offered.

For a few seconds, Emer sat paralysed, remembering her mother’s warnings
, but she could hardly refuse. She had promised to obey Atli, so she had better get used to his orders. Such a dream might even help them in their search. So she said,

“Very well
. My mother charged me to keep the mixing process secret, but not the ingredients. She said that the experience could be harmful to people who do not share our blood, for the effects vary in different people. I told you about her friend, who was lucky to escape without a shattered mind. I would warn you not to try this for yourselves.”

“Be at ease. We will not. Now tell us and
Rolf shall fetch the substances for you.”

Emer closed her eyes and thought about the rhyme her mother had taught her,
when she was little. Then she said,

“I need f
our soils or rocks. White marble, like pebbles from the beach, a black rock with tar running out of it and a red soil with green veins. The hardest one to find is a deep yellow colour and is often deep in the back of caves.”

“
Three are easy, the fourth I will have to go many miles to find,” Rolf said slowly. “I can bring some of the soils today easily enough. I remember a cave whose walls were yellow and I could travel there, but I will not be able to return the same day. That is two days I cannot spare,
Fadir.
I still have my ship to prepare for this voyage. Shouldn’t Hari be the one to go? He has more time to spare and Emer will be his wife, not mine. He should bear his part in this.”