The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) (20 page)

Tore saw us leaving and hurried after, carrying his bow, too. "Wait for me," he cried. "I am coming."

An extra bow might help us harvest more meat, but with Tore behind it, it might have the opposite effect. Though a good man to fight beside in battle, he was not a skilled hunter and tended to be clumsy and loud in the woods. "You will have to be very quiet," I told him, when he caught up with us. "And do only what I tell you to do." To my surprise, he did not protest.

"Spread out," I whispered to Tore and Einar, as we neared the edge of the inlet. To Tore, I added, "Try to pick a spot where there are several geese close together, and have extra arrows out and ready. Watch me. When I rise up, we will all shoot together. You must shoot as swiftly as you can. For a few moments they may not realize what is happening, but it will not take them long to become frightened and take flight."

I moved down along the shore of the inlet, keeping low behind the fringe of tall grass and reeds that lined the water's edge, until I happened to see the long necks of two pairs of geese raising and lowering above the level of the reeds. Always one in a pair would keep watch, while the other fed.

I glanced back down the shoreline. Einar was squatting, watching me. Beyond him, Tore was doing the same. I pulled three arrows out of my quiver—each with wide, sharp hunting heads—and stuck their points in the sandy soil so that they stood upright in a line in front of me, then laid a fourth arrow across my bow, its shaft resting against the top of my bow hand, and nocked it on the string.

I nodded to Einar, and when he nodded back I stood up swiftly, drawing my bow as I did. The two watchers—from their size, they both looked to be the males of their pairs—swiveled their heads in unison toward me, but did not sound any alarm. I focused my gaze on a spot on the breast of the farther of the two watchers just in front of the edge of its wing, opened the cupped fingers of my right hand releasing the bowstring, and reached down for another arrow.

The twang of my bowstring and soft whoosh of the arrow through the air did not startle them. Clearly, these geese had never been hunted by men. My arrow hit the goose where I had aimed and passed clear through it. The big bird flopped over, dead by the time it hit the ground. Its mate honked in alarm, and both of the other pair turned and looked in its direction.

My second arrow hit the female in the second pair while she and her mate were looking away. She was the closer of the two to me. The arrow's impact as it passed through her body knocked her forward to the ground. Hearing the sound, her mate turned back around and honked in alarm, then waddled over to her, trying to discern what had happened. Meanwhile the female in the first pair, realizing her mate was dead, raised her wings in preparation to fly. I snapped off a quick shot that hit her, but not cleanly. She fell on her side, then staggered back to her feet, honking loudly, and headed off down the shore, dragging a wing that had obviously been broken by my arrow.

By now the last goose had reached its fallen mate and was standing over it, honking loudly in distress. All across the shore of the inlet other geese, heeding the sounds of alarm, were taking flight. I pulled my final arrow to full draw and sent it into the center of the grieving male's breast, then trotted in pursuit of the wounded female.

Einar also took four geese. He killed all of his birds cleanly, and he laughed as he watched me chase my wounded goose back and forth along the shore trying to catch her, until I finally gave up and shot her again. Even Tore managed to take three. As he walked up carrying two clutched in one hand, hanging by their legs, with the third and his bow in his other hand, his face beamed with a huge smile.

"Look!" he exclaimed. "Three geese! I have never before had such a day hunting. We must hunt together more often."

I did not relish the thought of Tore becoming a hunting partner. But he had not looked happy since Odd's death down in Frankia. It was good to see him with something other than a glum frown on his face. Tore had his faults, but he was a true comrade nevertheless. I smiled back and said, "But now the real work begins. Now we must pluck them."

Fortunately several others from the
Gull
's crew, including Gudfred from the estate and Bram and Skuli from the village, volunteered to help us pluck and clean the geese. By the time we finished, the beach was covered with tufts of wind-blown down.

Though it was a good harvest, eleven geese could not come close to filling the bellies of eighty-one men. While the big birds roasted on spits above two long fires built in shallow pits dug on the shore, Cullain and Regin prepared large pots of barley and vegetable stew, as the men of the two crews staved off their hunger by gnawing on some of the smoked herring we'd purchased on Mon. The smell of the roasting geese made for a festive air to our evening, and Hastein authorized a cask of ale to be broached and shared among the men while we waited for the birds to cook.

"If my memory is correct, it will take us less than a full day's sailing to reach the southern end of the island of Oeland on the morrow," Stig told Hastein. "What of the pirates that Arinbjorn said might be there? What shall we do about them?"

Just then, Einar called me over to the cook-fires to consult on whether I thought the geese were done, so I did not hear Hastein's response. But a short time later he walked over to where Cullain was tending the stew, closed the lid of the wooden chest in which the little Irishman stored his cooking gear, and stepped up on it. Cullain frowned but said nothing.

"Gather round," Hastein called. "There are matters I need to tell you about."

The men of the two crews, who had been milling about on the beach or resting aboard ship while the meal was being cooked, came and stood expectantly before him. When all had arrived, Hastein continued.

"Before we left Mon, Jarl Arinbjorn warned me that in recent months, a fleet of pirates has been hunting the waters off a large island called Oeland. On the morrow, the course we follow will take us past Oeland. It is a long island, and it will take us more than one day to pass it by.

"Stig sailed this way many years ago. He tells me that the center portion of the island lies close to the mainland and the passage between them becomes a narrow strait there. He thinks that if pirates are hunting, that is where they will likely be lying in wait.

"I do not know the strength of these pirates—how many ships and men they number, or even if they are still in these waters. If they are, I think it unlikely they would wish to attack two longships filled with fighting men. But we would be foolish to be unprepared. For the next two days, you must all keep your weapons with you rather than stowed in your sea chests. If they need sharpening, see to it this night. Those who possess brynies or other armor should wear it, and keep your helms and shields close at hand."

*   *   *

The next morning, after we had broken the night's fast with the day meal, I opened my sea chest and began pulling out what I would need to arm myself. I sorted through my arrows, putting the best ones in my favorite quiver, and filling the extra quiver with the rest.

I had stored my mail brynie rolled up in the padded jerkin I wore under it. Taking them out of the chest, I unrolled them, pulled the jerkin on over my head and shoulders, then did the same with the brynie. I now normally wore the small knife that had once been Harald's. It was poorly suited for fighting, though, so I slipped its scabbard off of my belt and dropped it into my sea chest, threaded the belt through the loops of my dagger's scabbard, and strapped it around my waist. 

While the
Gull
was at sea I kept my bow in its sealskin case lashed with my spear against the side of the ship, by the position where I normally rowed, near the stern.  My shield was there, too. I placed my sword, its baldric wrapped around the scabbard, the two quivers, and my small-axe on the deck against the side with them. If we encountered pirates at all this day, it was likely to be only after many hours of sailing. There was no point encumbering myself with my weapons until there was an actual need. Last, I pulled my Frankish helm—which I had taken, like my brynie, shield, and sword, from the body of Leonidas, the young Frankish cavalry officer I had killed—from the sea chest and added it to the pile of weapons. The mail curtain attached to its back and sides made it somewhat heavy but did protect my neck. More importantly, the fact that it had no nasal bar, unlike my other helm, was less distracting to my aim when I shot my bow, although it did leave my face more exposed.

Bram, the young man from the village, walked up and opened his own sea chest as I was finishing. "That is a fine looking helm," he said.

I nodded. "It is Frankish," I told him.

His own preparations were far simpler than mine. He was already wearing a large seax in its scabbard on his belt. He pulled a small-axe from his chest and stuck its handle under his belt, in the small of his back. He, too, kept his spear and shield secured to the ship's side near the stern.

"Do you not have a helm? Or armor?" I asked. The latter was not surprising. Mail armor was expensive and somewhat rare. Mostly just wealthy men owned it, or those who, like me, had stripped it from the body of a slain enemy. But since Bram had gone raiding before with my father, Hrorik, I would have expected him to at least own a helm.

He looked embarrassed by my question, and shook his head. "I had a helm," he answered, "but I lost it on the voyage to England with your father. In the battle with the English, when we were running for the ship."

I lifted the lid of my sea chest again. "I have an extra one," I told him. "And I have this heavy leather jerkin, too. You may use them if you wish."

Bram's face lit up and he took them eagerly. "I thank you," he said.

*   *   *

The morning winds, though of modest strength, blew in a favorable direction and we forged our way steadily north, hugging the shoreline of the mainland. That had been Stig's suggestion. "If there
are
pirates ahead, it's possible they may have lookouts along the shore of Oeland," he'd told Hastein. "If we sail close to the mainland, we will be able to travel undetected for a considerable distance along the length of the island, before the channel narrows enough to be seen across from one side to the other."

By mid-day, Stig estimated that we had probably traveled far enough to be opposite the southern tip of Oeland, although as yet nothing could be seen of it. Hastein took over the
Gull
's steer-board, and sent Torvald up to the bow to keep watch, reckoning that with his height and keen eyesight, he would be able to see the island before anyone else. Torvald placed two sea chests side by side on the small raised bow deck and stood atop them, one hand grasping the neck of the ship's carved dragon head, scanning the sea to the north and east.

The afternoon was half gone before Torvald sent word back to Hastein that he could see land off to the east, just at the horizon. Hastein ordered the sail reefed and the boom lowered so that the shortened sail hung just above the central oar rack. Without her full expanse of sail stretched out above her, the
Gull
would sail more slowly, but would be far more difficult to spot from a distance.

The crew of the
Serpent
did the same with her sail, and Stig steered her close alongside.

Hastein called across to him. "Torvald has seen the island. The channel is narrowing, as you said it would."

Stig shaded his eyes with one hand and stared toward the east for a time, then shook his head. "Torvald's eyes are far sharper than mine," he said.

"Aye, than mine, too, plus he looks from higher above the sea than we do. Can you guess how much longer it will take us to reach the narrow strait where the mainland and island are closest?"

Stig shook his head. "I know there is still a ways to travel, though I am not certain how far. It has been too many years. But once within it, we will travel a considerable distance before the channel widens again. We cannot clear the narrows this day, for certain. Night is too near."

"Then we will break our voyage as soon as we find a suitable place to land and make camp," Hastein decided. "I do not wish to pass the night so close to where the pirates may be that our cook-fires might be seen by watchers. I do not want to risk being snuck up on in the dark."

*   *   *

I slept poorly, and the night seemed to drag on forever. The chance that we might fight on the morrow was always on the edge of my thoughts. All in the two crews seemed more subdued than usual, and Tore asked me again whether Gunhild had ever shown any signs of possessing the second sight.

The next morning when I armed myself again, I did not leave my weapons in a pile upon the deck as I had before. I slung my the strap of my quiver and my sword's baldric over my shoulders, crisscrossed over my chest with the sword's hilt hanging at my left hip and my quiver at my right. Like Bram had done the day before, I stuck my small-axe through my belt so that it rested in the small of my back. Last, I pulled my bow from its case. Only my helm did I not put on. It was too hot and heavy to wear until it was needed.

Around me, the other members of the
Gull
's crew did much the same. We were a warlike looking company. Surely, even if there were pirates ahead, they would not trouble us.

The weather had changed overnight. Yesterday's blue sky, dotted with high tufts of white cloud, was gone, replaced by a dull gray cover of clouds so thick and solid that the sun's position could not be seen through them. A cold wind blew steadily from the north, whipping the surface of the sea into choppy waves, and filling the air with spray blown from their crests.

"We can make some headway under sail for a bit longer," Stig told Hastein. "But when we reach the strait itself, where the channel is narrowest, we will be heading almost directly into the wind, with limited room to tack. I fear it will be a slow passage with hard rowing before we see the far side of Oeland."

It proved as Stig had said. For a time, we had room to steer back and forth across the channel, catching the wind at enough of an angle to move the ships ahead, though our forward progress was slow. But the farther we advanced, the closer the shore drew on either side and the shorter our tacks. Finally Hastein gave the order to lower and secure the sail, and draw out our oars. On the
Serpent
, Stig did the same.