Infinite Sacrifice (22 page)

“Promise?” Her voice breaks as she
looks in my eyes.

I glare back, trying to convince
her. “Always.”

She laughs and hugs me again, and
we walk back, holding hands until she sees Rolf. He takes her back
inside, looking pleased that she has come to her senses. I go back
to the dugout and tell Una that I’ll be leaving. Then she starts
crying. I try to console her as I have done with Thora, but this
time I can’t promise that I’ll always be beside her. “We’ll come
back, and Inga will make sure you’re safe here. She’ll need you
more than ever to help run things.”

Una sniffles, and her blue-grey
eyes blaze with a sparkle of tears. “I’ll be alone here,
though.”

I nod but then remember. “No, you
won’t.” I reach around, pull the honking Borga off my blanket, and
say, “I will have to leave her here, and she’ll be good company
until I come back.”

Una smiles. “Will you really come
back?”

“If Thora comes back, then I’ll
come back too.” I look toward where Erna died and say, “And she
won’t ever leave this place for long.”

She nods, wipes away her tears, and
begins helping me get ready for the journey. We walk back, hands
clasped, to the wagon being loaded, and Inga looks on, seemingly
pleased that she’ll have the farm to herself now. Rolf claps for
Thora to come, and I know that means me too. I turn to Una, who’s
wringing her hands. I feel sick to leave her. The air warms between
us as she brings her eyes up to mine, her tanned skin glowing, and
something comes over me. I reach out and touch the ends of her dark
brown hair as she smiles nervously. Leaning in to smell the lock
wound around my hand, it brings memories of sleeping next to her.
We draw together for a soft kiss, and when we pull away, we have no
words.

I pick up my bag and tell her,
“Hold Borga back so she can’t follow me into town.”

Una forces herself to move and
grabs Borga as I close the door. Thora’s just leaving the house and
gives me a smile to see me there with my bags packed. Rolf
awkwardly struts out of the bushes with the flapping peacock at the
end of his sword-calloused hand. Thora lets out a laugh to me under
her breath, since I know she hates that strange thing too. I sit on
the back of the wagon, watch the farm get smaller and smaller, and
count the farms until we come to the harbor.

At the end of each of the eight
jetties bob great warships lined with warriors’ brightly colored
shields on their sides. Rolf hands his things to the loading
thralls, and I follow behind him as he carries his armor and shield
down the jetty. The warship is so much larger than I expected once
I near it. Beautiful carvings spread all over the railings, up the
mast and length of the oars. Men carry something heavy on, and I
can’t help but smile when I see it is Gunhilda, again hanging
between four straining men. She gives me a wink as they sit her in
the bow of the ship where all valkyries belong, under the giant,
carved, fire-breathing dragon leading our ship.

The bells ring out again, causing
all to jump, and Toke screams from the town, “Cursed
bells!”

He launches his spear straight up
to the bell tower, wedging it behind one of the bells so that only
two bells sound after that.

“One down, two to go!” Toke, now
pleased, turns and makes his way up the jetty with his servants
behind him.

Rolf points to the cargo ship on
the other side of the jetty and says, “Liam take Thora below and
make sure she’s comfortable.”

As soon as we step on the ship I
notice most of the warriors didn’t bring their wives with them but
brought one female thrall instead. Thora notices the same thing,
and her cheeks flush with color as she walks down to the small
ship’s hold with me. The smell of the animals in the hold beside us
chokes us. Thora brings out a bag of herbs and crushes some in her
hands for us to smell.

Toke’s loud voice bellows above us,
“Go down under the hold, Kitten.”

White kidskin boots appear down the
ladder, and upon seeing the silk, I know who is joining us. Thora
nods to her in forced respect as Dalla instructs her thrall to
arrange her cushions and smooth her silk down to sit without
wrinkling. Thora gives me a look. We stay below until I can feel
the boat’s motion. There is a great rhythmic splashing sound all
around us, and when I go up to the top of the ladder, I find it is
the thirty-two oars of the Rolf’s warship beside us hitting the
water at the same instant. Each oar has two warriors in its oar
port. I search for Rolf and have a newfound respect for him, seeing
him there, gritting his teeth and pulling the oar in perfect
time.

I look up to the massive white
square sail crackling in the wind and above it a large banner flag
with the raven on it, the symbol of Odin. The ocean’s sparkling
this early in the morning, and I wonder if we’ll be getting to
Ireland before tomorrow’s sunset. I go back under, trying to pull
out Thora’s cushions for her from her things, so she can rest
well.

“Thank you, Liam.”

Dalla looks taken aback by her
politeness to a slave. I get out Ma’s blanket, wrap myself in it,
and try to shut my eyes with the lulling of the ship in the ocean
waves.

At night, they anchor and in the
red-sky morning, we all set sail again, following the seabirds
toward the jagged Irish coast. The green mountains close in around
us, and we head straight into the lough my da once fished. As we
draw near the seaside village, the warriors let out a roar of
terror that shakes the ship and reverberates over the waves. A
shiver runs through me as I remember what that sounds like on
shore. I squint and search the houses to see if I can find the one
I was born in and hurt to see the women and children running up the
hill toward the church.

The warriors thrust the ships up on
shore, and I watch in awe how quickly Rolf jumps off with his
masked helmet, shield, sword in hand, and other weapons tied behind
his back. The fishermen hurry to bring their boats up and run for
safety, but many are caught with raised swords.

Was Da taken this way? Is that why
he never came for us?

Thora, Dalla, the other thralls,
and I all watch from the safety of the deck behind the brightly
colored shields. The chieftain paces the shore beside his best
bodyguards as he watches his warriors pillage and burn the houses
closest to the water. All eyes turn to the hilltop, where a great
bellow booms over the harbor and lifts over the ships to the ocean,
emanating from Irish warriors with raised axes and swords to the
air—surprising Chieftain Toke.

He calls to his men, smiling,
“Warriors! We have a fair fight here!”

Toke raises his sword as his men
drop their plunder and run back to their chief. Toke nods to his
men to give out mushrooms to his bear-shirted warriors. Then he
walks back to our ship and says to the head warrior standing guard
over us, “You and your men take the women to the safety of those
caves.” He points up shore past jagged rock to a darkness in the
face of the cliffs. “We will come to you when we are finished with
our game.”

I jump off the ship and catch Thora
as she leaps.

Dalla frets. “Won’t you take us and
then you will be safe as well?” She looks up toward the horrifying
men charging down the cliffs as she spoke.

He laughs as he helps her out of
the ship. “Kitten, ‘kings are made for honor, not for long
life.”

He slaps her backside with the flat
of his sword and walks off as we start running with the four
warriors. The Irishmen thunder closer, and the chieftain shouts
out, “FREE GUNHILDA!”

Gunhilda leaps off of the bow of
the ship with her shield and sword out like wings. She clears the
water completely with her god-like jump, then roars and runs up the
hillside, frightening away the men rushing toward her. I’m
mesmerized, watching her sweep this way and that, throwing men from
her path like playful children.

Thora tugs my arm. “We must
go!”

“He said women. I can’t go.” I
notice all of the other thralls remained on the ship.

“You can’t leave me now!” she
screams over the roar of battle.

Dalla and the guards have started
climbing the steep rocks, and I hurry to push Thora up each
one.

Chapter 10

Once we reach the lip of the cave,
I’m eager to turn around and watch the battle. The Vikings have
made their way to the top of the hill, but there seems to be many
lying dead and wounded on the slope. From our distance it’s hard to
tell if they are Vikings or Irishmen. Pride for the Irishmen wells
inside me. My people fight back this time, not allowing what
happened to me before, refusing to be vanquished yet
again.

Strangely though, I also root for
my adopted people. I worry for the chieftain, Gunhilda, and even
for Rolf. I worry that if the Vikings are defeated, what will
happen to me? Will my people take me back? Can I even speak their
language anymore to tell them who I am?

A thought hits me, and I’m
surprised I hadn’t considered it until this moment, the moment when
I’m high up in a jagged cave. I should’ve run! Run from the beach
and up to my people. Would they have accepted me? I look down the
teeth-like rocks, wondering if I can still get away before the
warriors realize, but I think of Thora. She’s sitting cross-legged
next to me, holding my hand tight; I hear my promise
echo.

There, I sit
watching, not sure which side I’m rooting for, when a clamor of
many feet echoes from
within
the cave. The warriors lurch to their feet and
step in front of us as Dalla screams.

“There must be a tunnel to this
cave! Prepare yourselves, men!” the head warrior shouts as I push
Thora and Dalla down behind a monstrous rock.

Metal clangs with such force it
rings in my ears. Five dark-haired Irishmen, looking identical to
the Vikings in both weaponry and armor, collide with our
protectors. Immediately, a soldier takes out our leader with an axe
to his back as he fights off another with his sword. The other
three stand together in a triangle, protecting their backsides, and
after some clanging, strike two of their warriors down mortally.
Leaving three against three, the Viking splits off to take on each
man as Thora clings to my hand, causing all loss of
feeling.

I look down the cliffs and decide
we should try to retreat to the ship. I nudge Thora, who
understands immediately, and we try as quietly as we can to move
down the rocks with Dalla in tow. Two Irishmen, finished with our
brave protectors, look over the cliff and point to our
escape.

“Faster!” I yell out to Dalla and
Thora, but the men move agilely down at twice our speed. When our
feet hit the sand, we take off as fast as we can, but the men
pounce behind us. I hear Dalla shriek as one warrior grabs
her.

She bends down; her hand clenches
around a large, black rock as he tugs her back up, ripping her silk
gown. She twists in his arms, and I hear the rock hit bone as she
smashes it into his head. He drops immediately, and Dalla takes up
his heavy sword in both hands as the other warrior runs at her. I
grab up two rocks of my own and try to reach her. She catches two
perfect blows before he turns and slices across her pretty back. I
throw both rocks a moment too late, and one stings him in the head
long enough for me to pick up a sword. I’ve never even held a sword
before, since it’s forbidden.

The man stands there with his
sword, smiling at me, slightly out of reach. Blood trickles down
his face from my rock wound. I become entranced with the steel-grey
eyes looking back. Before I can act, he strikes out at me. I try to
dart away every time he slashes at me. However, Thora runs behind
him and throws a heavy rock at his back, causing him to spin his
sword around, catching her across her stomach.

I scream and stick the steel-eyed
warrior straight in his back. The man recoils, stiffens with the
skewer, and falls back on the sword, forcing it to go through him
as he lands with a gurgle from his blood-filled mouth. I rush to
Thora, covered now in crimson, and turn her to see my face and cry
when I see her eyes fixed to the ocean.