Loki's Daughters (42 page)

"Run, Liam. Run."

"I'm running, Mama. My leg hurts."

His breathless cries tore at her heart. But she couldn't let him stop.

He stumbled.

Nay, Liam, don't fall. Don't let them get you.
Birgit dashed to him, scooped him up onto her hip, and staggered back to the trail. Rough shouts echoed through the forest. She gasped, her side aching as she sped along.

Please, God. Please don't let them get us
!

"They're going back, Mama. They've turned around."

Birgit prayed as she ran. Guilt clawed at her. That could only mean the Vikings would take Arienh with them. Did God save her at the cost of her sister's life? He must not. But Liam? She must save him.

"Look out, Mama. There's rocks here."

Birgit studied her footing, and the darker smudges where rocks and their shadows lay. Her toe caught and she stumbled, caught herself, tottered to her feet.

"Put me down, Mama, I can run now."

"Nay."

"You can't see it. Just here, Mama."

How safe would he be if she fell with him in her arms?

"They're gone. We can slow down."

"Nay. We must get help. We're almost there."

Birgit's lungs burned, her gasps deep. She could see the blotches of green that told her the village sat in the sunlight just ahead. "Run ahead of me, Liam."

"Nay. Mama!" He tugged at her arm.

"I'm all right. Just run ahead and get someone to come back for me. I'm still coming, but I've got to slow down. Hurry!"

His bright blue eyes were wide and round with fear. His brassy curls bobbed as he spun around, and blurred to a wheat-colored spot while his arms flailed, until even his movement disappeared into the fuzziness.

Birgit ran on. She gasped, again, again, deep and futile gulps, and she clutched her side where a sharp pain threatened to double her up. What would they do to Arienh?

If she’s lucky, no more than they did to me.

The horror of it spurred Birgit on, suddenly heedless of her pain. She must find Egil. Ronan. He would save his wife, wouldn't he? She focused on the blotch of blurry green ahead, begging her saint for strength. With a renewed burst of speed, she rushed on.

An explosion of light, pain. She hit something... Nay. She must... Her head... Light, dark... She had to... Swirling, throbbing, pounding, her palms hit the dirt. Nay, she...

***

Screams.

Ronan dropped his adze and lunged for his sword.

"Help!" cried the breathless boy, stumbling with exhaustion as he ran. Behind him, his mother, running and clutching at her side. Birgit suddenly picked up speed, then-

Horror struck him as Birgit ran straight into a low tree limb. The branch caught her in the middle of her forehead, stopped her cold, knocked her to the ground. Clawing at formless air, she crumpled, lay still.

Ronan blew the alarm as he ran to her, caught Liam in his arms and scooped him up.

"Vikings!" the boy gasped. "They got Aunt!"

Vikings? But how? He had set up a watch. "Where?"

"The stone circle. I saw them. They sneaked up."

Egil sped to Birgit just as Ronan reached her. Both men knelt beside Birgit as she moaned. From all sides, men and women came running, weapons at hand.

"What happened?" Egil demanded, but already a darkening knot formed on Birgit's forehead. Egil folded Birgit into his arms. Mildread plopped down beside them with anxious concern.

"Hurry. You got to hurry!" Liam insisted, pulling on Ronan's arm.

"Aye, Liam," Ronan replied, but he turned to Birgit, who touched the knot gingerly as she struggled to sit up. "Birgit, tell me everything, and hurry. Where are they?"

The pale green eyes he had once found so hellishly eerie stared with fear. Birgit licked her lips. "It's like Liam said."

"Aye, but we have to know where to go to head them off. How far up the coast were they?"

Liam yanked at Ronan's sleeve again. "Mama can't tell you. She can't see."

Ronan stared. It couldn't be. "What?"

"Oh, Liam."
 
Birgit sighed.

"You didn't say I couldn't tell him, Mama. Only Egil."

Egil muttered an ugly curse. With a sickening thud in his heart, Ronan understood his brother's thoughts
 
Egil clasped Birgit's face between his hands, turning it to him. "What does he mean, Birgit? You ran right into that branch, didn't you?"

Mildread sighed. A secret they all knew, then.

"He means she can't see. Not much, anyway. Liam is the only one who can tell you what you want to know."

"Hel's tits," Egil said. He flung his hands to his side and stood abruptly, leaving Birgit sitting on the ground. "All right, Liam, tell us."

The boy still breathed hard. "Up there where the iron pits are, past the stone circle, that's where their boat is. I saw it. It's that bad one that's your uncle, and he's got Aunt, and Elli, and Selma and the girls. You got to stop them."

"They've got too much of a head start, Ronan," said Tanni.

Terror constricted Ronan's throat as he wracked his brain for a answer. "Nay, that's miles away, with struggling women. We'll take the Black Swan."

Wild-eyed, Bjorn shook his head. "But how? Olav's gone to the iron pits, and Solvi's gone after that holy book. Seven of us can't man a longship."

"Take us," Mildread said, suddenly grabbing Ronan's arm. "We can row. We're strong, you know we are."

Women? Women rowing his longship?

He frowned. "It takes training, Mildread. If the oars clash, they could shatter."

"We'll do it right, I swear."

Birgit sat up, tentatively touching the lump on her forehead. Her pale green eyes impaled him with their intensity. "Please, Ronan. They took Arienh. And Elli and Selma, and the children. I know what they will do to them."

They were Loki's Daughters. Why not? He had to do something or Arienh would die.

He had already decided. "Aye. We might all end up at the bottom of the sea, but there's no choice. Mildread, get the women and their weapons to the ship. Egil, Tanni, to the ship."

"Take me," Birgit begged. "I can't see, but I could row."

Ronan only glanced at her and the purpling knot on her head. "See to my father. Get everyone that's left to the cavern," he told her. "And try to find someone to run to Olav. We need him if he can be found."

Ronan raced down the path after the others to the Black Swan on the riverbank. The men shouldered the big craft into the shallow river as men and women scurried aboard, and poled it downstream to the junction with the estuary. The receding high tide gave them speed.

Ronan's mind raced as he barked orders to the women, and paired them with men at the oars. He swallowed down his fear. One rower out of rhythm could wreck the entire ship.

But what would happen to Arienh if they didn't? What was happening to her, right now? He dared not think it. But he would kill Hrolgar. That, he knew.

The oars slapped the water, striking the rhythm. Tanni released the rigging. The big sail caught wind. Ronan adjusted the sail, securing its tackle to hold its position steady. The longship plowed across the rolling water, sleek and swift, under both sail and oar power.

Tanni's eyes blazed with horror and rage. It would be for Selma and the two little girls who had won Tanni's heart. And Elli? He glanced at the fiercely rowing blacksmith and wondered.

With the sail set, Ronan dashed to the helm. Counting the women, he had a crew of about twenty. About six men had gone with Olav in the woods. With luck, Olav would get the message or would see Hrolgar's ship, for the iron pits were only a few miles from the cove where Hrolgar had most likely landed.

Could he count on Loki's Daughters to fight the way they had been taught? They were not cowards, but would their arrows cause more harm than good? If they even caught up with Hrolgar.

If not, they'd follow him all the way back to the Manx Isle.

The sleek longship broke free of the estuary and slowed as it turned across tide. Ronan swung the sail to catch the wind, and the ship lurched forward, turning north.

The rowers grunted as they strained over their oars. The oars slapped the water in rapid cadence, matching Egil's booming voice.

"There. I see them," shouted Tanni.

Ronan spotted it. The aging grey longship with its faded, striped red sail. Deep hatred surged inside him. "Close to shore, just putting out. Thought they'd get farther than that. Head them off."

"Damn women must be putting up a fight," Bjorn shouted. He heaved his massive weight into his oar as hard as any other man.

The sail shifted to catch the wind at its best angle once again, and Ronan set course to cut off Hrolgar's ship before it could reach open sea. The Black Swan was the sleeker, faster ship. It could go up against Hrolgar's old and battered ship and win, any day.

Ronan stifled a plea to the old gods. They were Christian now. He said his prayer to the Christian God, and hoped his mother was right.

Closer, closer, closing. Hrolgar had spotted them. He turned his ship, angled to the shore, nearly paralleling their path. Running.

Closer, closer. He could see Hrolgar on the deck. Hrolgar's longship turned sharply again, cutting back toward shore, against the choppy current and receding tide. The ship bucked, its clinkered planks squealing. Ronan, too, cut against the waves, fighting. The sail swung so far, he thought he'd lose the breeze altogether.

If he did, so would Hrolgar.

The battered grey longship reached the breakers, wallowing in the cross-current. Closing in, Ronan's rowers strained as if their lungs would burst.

"Gut their oars." he shouted. "Ship oars."

Women moved as fast as men. The Black Swan's oars rose high into the air and inward. Its prow skimmed starboard of Hrolgar's ship, cracking the oars of every raider who didn't think fast enough. Grappling hooks lashed the sides. Thuds mingled with clashing iron and fierce shouts.

Hrolgar's ship heeled over. One captive sailed overboard, almost poised in the air, before she hit the water face down.

"Thor's beard!" shouted Bjorn. He leaped to the pirate deck, and dashed across to heave himself into the choppy sea after her.

Raiders jumped overboard into the surf, swam for shore as Ronan leaped onto the ship, slashing at whatever marauder was too slow to get out of his way. Lashed together, the two ships ground through choppy breakers, bouncing, rolling. Women clung to ropes and slid across the deck. The ships rushed on, pressed by the wind, and slammed against the shingle beach.

The women remembered their orders. The instant the Black Swan grounded, they took careful aim at the marauders slogging through the surf, and shot. Arrows flew. A second volley launched. Raiders staggered and fell beneath the onslaught.

Ronan scanned rapidly around, counting captives. Three aboard, one overboard. Only Arienh still missing. So was Hrolgar. On the pebble beach, raiders dashed to high ground, a low dune studded with sea grass, and formed a shielding circle.