The Viking (5 page)

Kannak rolled her eyes. “She knows yer a
Viking; she dinna believe the lie.”

He stood up and took the longbow off the hook on the wall. Effortlessly, he pulled the string back to test it. “Then she has far more wits about her than her daughter.”

Thoroughly insulted, Kannak stood up, straightened her frock and then put her hands on her hips. “‘Ye might as well put that back. Everyone knows Vikings go to sea and none are skilled enough to hunt on land. I wager yer the same.”

Stefan didn
’t even bother to look at her. “What will ye wager?”

“Well
…if ye win, I will haul all the water for two days.”

“And if ye win?”

“Ye will milk the cow morning and night for two days.”

“Lads dinnae milk cows.”

“Then I am fortunate yer not yet a lad.” Kannak tore off two pieces of bread and walked out the door.

Jirvel watched him test the bow again and smiled. “God has surly sent ye to us, Stefan. Will my daughter lose her wager?”

“Aye.”

“Good, she needs to be set down occasionally. Spend the day hunting while we see to the marketing. The land can wait another day or two and we must keep ye strong.”

*

In the light of morning, Stefan got his first good look at the land. The cottage was far enough from the tree lined river to avoid the spring floods, yet close enough for fishing and hauling water. He followed the path to the river, knelt down, cupped his hands and splashed water on his face. But when he looked at the reflection, all he saw was his father
’s lifeless face. He closed his eyes tight, searched his mind for a pleasing image to remember and settled on the mighty commander standing in the stern of the ship with his legs apart and his arms folded. Finally daring to open his eyes and look again, the reflection he saw was his own. He looked as tired as he felt.

Stefan ran his fingers through his short hair and got up. Then he looked in all directions, decided he was alone, stripped down and took a quick bath in the cold water. It helped refresh him.

When he went back up the path, he paused a moment to admire the beautiful oak tree next to the cottage with its sturdy branches and leaves enough to provide ample shade on hot days. Other oak trees and bushes lined all four sides of the property except where animals had trampled paths to the river over the years. In the middle was the farm land and it was obvious most had not been worked in years. He walked to the small garden, picked up a handful of dirt and let it run through his fingers. The soil was not so different from his home nor was the climate, which so far was just as warm if not warmer than home.

Once she was done with the milking, he let Kannak show him where everything was, helped both women mount the horse and then handed them the empty baskets and two flasks filled with fresh milk. After they were gone, he looked over the garden again and took stock of the tools in the shed. There weren
’t many and the wooden shovel was warped, but with good care and if the weather was not too harsh, he thought he could manage to grow enough to feed them with perhaps a little extra.

At least the heather was a good source of food for the livestock, what little livestock there was. Heather had a thousand other uses, most of which the Scots took advantage of, he noticed. From it they made baskets with straps to hang over the back of a horse, baskets for carrying
sheared wool, for harvesting vegetables and even small baskets lined with cloth and hung by the fire in the cottage to keep their salt and spices dry. They also made brooms, brushes, floor mats and even woven paths across unstable soil.

But when the plants began to overgrow the land allowing wolves and red foxes to get close to the livestock, the only answer was a Muirburn. That took a good bit of watching for fear the fire got out of control and Stefan doubted the three of them could manage it without help.

It was not hard to figure out which basket was used for fishing, although it was clear to see the women owned no useable lines of twine or hooks. No wonder they were hungry. He vowed to show them how to hold a torch near the river’s edge at night, draw the fish to it and spear them with a sword or spear. Then he realized they had neither and found Kannak’s father despicable for leaving them so completely without.

It was a far cry from the life he imagined as a Viking, but he tried not to think about that. He would need shoes soon and all he owned, including his warm cloak, went down with the ship. There was much to do and keeping busy would at least take his mind off his sorrow. Stefan abruptly went back inside the cottage, got the long bow and found two arrows.

CHAPTER V

It was not unlike many of the villages in Scotland with a two-story keep made of stone where their laird and his family lived. In front of the keep was a large courtyard with a short wall around most of it. The stables were just beyond the wall at one end and the clan used the other end of the courtyard as a market place. Surrounding the keep and courtyard were cottages of various sizes, some new and some seemingly very old, but in good repair. With the hill behind the village, trees everywhere, the ocean in the front and the mouth of the river empting into the sea to the south, Clan Macoran had a desirable place to live indeed.

For most of the farmers on the plots of land granted them by their laird, the harvest had been plentiful and selling their food at this time of year when most had eaten there winter stores was the most profitable. After all, not all were farmers. There were candle makers, weavers, cobblers, tanners, the laird and his family, builders, warriors and the priest all of whom came to the market to barter for food on a regular basis.

Jirvel kept one back and used the other coin to afford vegetables, fruit, wheat and precious life giving seeds of various kinds they would need for the planting. The fresh salmon was tempting, but she reminded herself they now had a boy who could fish for them.

The market was alive with buyers and sellers all touting their remarkable victory over the Vikings the day before. Only three dead Scots and twenty six Vikings killed. “They won
’t be coming back here again anytime soon,” they all agreed.

Kannak and Jirvel listened to all the gossip and nodded when appropriate. Then their laird arrived and Kannak held her breath. Everything that happened in the clan was Laird Macoran
’s business whether her mother liked it or not. They had to tell him about Stefan and her mother was not an accomplished liar. Even so, Kannak knew enough to remain silent and let her mother do the talking.

“Good day to ye, Jirvel,” Laird Macoran said. He waited for them to curtsy and then smiled his approval. He was a tall man with a dimple in his chin normally covered by his beard. His thick hair was a dark shade of red, as was his facial hair and his eyes were green. He was a fair minded man who smiled often and nearly everyone loved him. Macoran was dressed in a skirt made of a dark green and white plaid with shoes that laced up his bare legs to just below his knees. It was a new form of dress which seemed to be sweeping across all of Scotland, or so the gossip reported. Nevertheless, some of the men found the new dress unfamiliar and still wore their baggy long pants.

Jirvel did not return Macoran’s smile. “Have ye any word o’ my husband?”

Laird Macoran wrinkled his brow. Jirvel
’s question meant there were now three men who had taken their leave without his knowledge and he was not pleased.  “Nay, I have heard nothing. The two o’ ye are alone then?”

“Quite, but ye needn
’t worry, we can manage?”

“How?”

“Just now ye care about us?”

He looked disturbed by Jirvel
’s outburst, started to touch her arm and then drew his hand back. “I will send a lad…”

She suddenly realized others were listening and bowed her head. “Ye need not bother, my brother sent a laddie to work the land.”

“Yer brother knows ye are alone?”

“Nay, he does not know. The laddie be unexpected and I am grateful to have the help.”

“Then I am grateful too.”

Laird Macoran and Jirvel held their eyes on each other longer than was normal. No one in the clan was as bold as her mother when it came to standing up to Laird Macoran and never had Kannak seen Jirvel this forthcoming, at least not in public. Her mother had just told a lie, did it very well and Macoran seemed to believe her. Kannak was relieved.
Yet there was something more…something unsaid between them and this was not the first time Kannak noticed.

Macoran also realized others were listening, glanced at the girl and thought to change the subject. “Kannak will soon be old enough to marry.”

At this Jirvel’s anger grew and she narrowed her eyes, “She be but twelve and an only child. She be not yet ready to marry.”

“She was twelve last year.” He studied the rage rising up in Jirvel
’s eyes and decided not to push his luck. “Perhaps not yet then. I will see this laddie o’ yer’n when I ride the land next.” He nodded and walked away.

Kannak said nothing as she helped her mother mount the horse and handed her a full basket. Then she got on behind her and accepted a basket one of the men handed her. He was an older man who held his eyes to hers so long it made her uncomfortable enough to turn her head away. She remembered to thank him, but was greatly relieved when her mothe
r nudged the side of the horse.

They were half way home before Jirvel spoke. “Ye must not come to the village so often as afore. Soon the men will be asking for ye and I will not have ye married to a nothing o
’ a lad like yer father.”

“Ye have never called him that afore.”

“I have never been this angry afore. He left us, Kannak and there was no need.”

“All lads go off to war.”

“What war? We heard nothing o’ a war save the one with the Vikings yesterday and Macoran had no idea he was gone. Yer father has abandoned us and he will not be back.”

It was not as though Kannak did not have these same thoughts, but it was surprising her mother would say it out loud. Of all the things Jirvel taught her, respect for her father no matter how drunk he g
ot, was at the top of the list.

“Would Macoran kill him for leaving us?”

Jirvel closed her eyes for a moment. “I’d not like seeing that, but he did not have Macoran’s leave to go. A laird must have complete control over his clan or there will be madness.”

“Then father dare not come back, not now that Macoran knows.”

“Aye, Eogan may not be helpful, but neither be he dim-witted.”

Kannak lovingly put her head against her mother
’s back. “I do like seeing what others have crafted at the market.”

“I know ye do. Perhaps Stefan can go with ye and keep the lads away, but ye must not come alone. I will not have ye married until ye are a fully grown lass.”

*

By the time they got back, Stefan had a grouse and a rabbit cooking on an outside spit. Jirvel was thrilled, Kannak was not, but that didn
’t stop her from eating. The meat and an apple each filled their stomachs and all of them were tired enough to go to bed early.

Grinning, Stefan got up from the table and picked up a bucket made of oak staves, “We are in need o
’ more water.”

Kannak slumped. Then she stood, twirled her hand in the air, mockingly curtsied to him, yanked the handle out of his hand and marched out the door. “Bletherskite.”

Both Jirvel and Stefan laughed. After she was gone, Stefan sat back down at the table. “Will she be safe going to the river alone?”

“She has done it all her life save these past weeks. Once Eogan was gone, we did everything together.”

“Is this clan at war?”

“Nay,” Jirvel answered.

“Then whom do ye fear?”

“Any lad who might take advantage o
’ two lasses alone. Word will spread that yer here to protect us and we will again be safe.”

He nodded his understanding and accepted the goblet of mead she handed him. It was a sweet drink, but he did not care for it that much, took only a sip and set it aside.

Jirvel smiled. The laddie was not going to take to strong drink and that was refreshing. She decided it was a good time to caution her new charge. “Stefan, when ye go to the river ye may well see Limonds on the other side. They will not attack ye, but we are not so very friendly with that clan.”

“Why not?”

“‘Tis a long dispute over the salmon. Limond accuses us of taking our catch from his side of the river.” She saw the perplexed look on his face and could guess what he was thinking. “Laird Limond be an old lad with no family and there be no accounting for his suspicions. His men watch us, but they mean no harm normally. Nevertheless, we take only the fish we need.”

“I see. I brought a spear.”

“A Viking spear with three prongs?”

“Aye.”

“Good, we will use it but ye must hide it. In the village they know one o’ the Vikings got away.”

“Where best can I hide it?”

“Bring it inside and lay it along the wall behind the baskets. No one will see it there.” She studied his face for a moment and decided she should tell him about the battle. “As I said, we are not fond o’ the Limond, nor they o’ us…except when the Vikings come. For that, we fight together. We lost only three, the Vikings lost twenty-six.”