Beyond the Sea Mist (17 page)

* * *

When she woke, the sky was a dazzling apricot and rose. Ailinn savored the sight for a moment, then gently eased Magnus’s arms from around her and slid from his lap. As she stood, she saw that several members of the crew were up and about. Remembering Vibold’s words, Ailinn grew uneasy. It would be safer to stay here with Magnus, but she needed to see to the other women. She rose and hurried to the tent.

Inside the tent, she found Brina and Ullach awake and sitting up.

“Has Gormlaith roused?” Ailinn asked.

Ullach shook her head. “But I think she’s better. She mumbled a few words awhile ago, although I couldn’t make out what she was saying.”

Ailinn’s worries eased. She smiled at Brina, who still looked wan and pale, but better than she had. “You appear much improved.”

“Aye,” Brina agreed. “I no longer want to die every minute,” she said, smiling. “And I was able to eat a little. Where did the food come from?”

“Magnus,” Ailinn answered, thinking this was another thing they owed him for.

“What’s going to happen now?” Ullach asked.

“What do you mean?” Ailinn responded.

“Are we still going to York?” Ullach asked.

“I suppose so.” Ailinn frowned. She must try to convince Magnus to return to Ireland.

“And what will happen to us then?” asked Ullach. “Will we still be sold as slaves?”

“Of course not.” Brina patted the younger woman on the arm. “Magnus would never sell us as slaves.” She hesitated, her face darkening suddenly. “At least not Ailinn.” Brina raised her gaze to meet Ailinn’s.

Ailinn realized she had a new worry. Although she was fairly certain Magnus didn’t intend to sell her, she had no way of knowing what he planned to do with the other women.

“I’m certain Ailinn can convince him not to sell us either,” Brina said. “Can’t you?”

“Of course,” Ailinn answered, wondering how much influence she had with Magnus. She really had no idea where she stood with him. He’d rescued her from Croa, but for what purpose?

Doubts filled her mind. What
did
Magnus intend to do with her? She’d been so relieved to be free of Croa—and so grateful to Magnus for rescuing her—she hadn’t thought beyond the joy of the moment. Magnus hadn’t treated her like a captive, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t one.

The harsh truth struck all at once. If Magnus desired her and wanted her for himself, he would take her back to his home in the northern lands and make her his bed thrall. As much as she desired Magnus, the thought of belonging to him dismayed her. She didn’t want to be any man’s possession, no matter how kind and generous he was. She wanted to return to Ireland and reclaim her family’s lands. That was the only future that would content her. But how was she to do such a thing? Even if she could find a way to return to Ireland, how could she regain control of her family’s property? To do that would require warriors and she had no means of obtaining them...

The thought came to her like a bolt from the heavens. The box she’d seen Thorvald stow on other side of the hold must still be down there. She was certain it contained something very valuable. If she could retrieve it and hide it away, she might have the means to buy her freedom.

Magnus had convinced her that there were Norsemen who were honorable and decent. If she could find one of them and pay him to take her back to Ireland...then use the rest of the treasure to hire warriors to fight for her...

For the first time since her father’s dun had been overrun, Ailinn experienced a sense of hope and possibility. The rest of her life need not be filled with hopeless misery. She had a purpose, a goal. It was wonderfully freeing.

“What are you thinking, Ailinn? You look so strange.” Brina’s soft voice interrupted Ailinn’s reverie.

Ailinn smiled. “I’m thinking that perhaps everything is not so hopeless after all.”

“Of course it’s not, lady. I have no doubt that Magnus will wed with you...well, perhaps not that, but he will treat you very decently. And if you must be a bed slave, surely it’s not such a hardship when the man is fine to look upon. I think he cares for you enough that you can convince him not to sell us either. Our lives won’t really change so much, although we will probably have to live in some Norse longphort...but even that won’t be a great hardship...”

Brina prattled on. Ailinn let her. There was much to do to put her plan in motion, and many things that must go right for her to have any possibility of realizing her dream. But it was attainable, she felt certain. She had survived so much already; there was no reason she couldn’t shape the rest of her destiny.

She knew a little twinge of doubt, thinking of Magnus. He’d risked a great deal to save her, and she didn’t think it would please him to lose the prize he’d fought so hard for. But she had her own goals to consider. Having finally gotten free from Croa, she didn’t mean to give up control of her life ever again, not even to her glorious Norse hero, Magnus.

Ailinn crawled out of the tent, and crouching down, made her way around the mast to the entrance to the hold. No one on this end of the ship appeared to be up yet. This was her chance.

She sat on the edge of the hold. It seemed a very long way down, but she was determined. Lowering her body into the opening, she let go and jumped.

She landed with a splash. The impact jarred her legs. She looked up. It wouldn’t be easy climbing out by herself, but if she stood on one of the barrels, she should be able to manage. Now to find the box.

The hold was almost empty. The crew had apparently thrown most of the cargo overboard during the storm. But she felt certain the box was still there.

She made her way into the stern-end cargo area, wishing she had a lamp or torch. But perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered. Her instincts told her she must search for the box by feel. Thorvald would have hidden it in some small nook or cranny where no one would think to look.

* * *

Magnus came awake slowly and tried to recall where he was. A fine job he’d done at staying alert. If Thorvald or any of the other crewman had wanted to get rid of him, they could have stabbed him in the back or cut his throat at any time during the night. Then he thought of Ailinn. He felt certain she’d been with him. The memory of holding her in his arms was too vivid to be a dream. But where was she now? Why would she seek him out while he slept and then vanish in the morning?

He got to his feet and looked around. The sun was shining brightly and most of the crew were already up. He wished he hadn’t been so late in rising. If he wanted the men to accept him as captain, he must begin acting as if he were in charge. To that end, he decided to seek out Vibold, the ancient seaman who manned the steering oar.

He put on his swordbelt and sheathed his sword, then made his way to the end of the stern. Magnus nodded to Vibold and asked, “Do you know where we are, Vibold? Can you tell how far off course we’ve been blown?”

Vibold glanced up at the vivid blue sky. “I looked through the bearing stone this morning, and my guess is that we’re west of Albion and should tack to the east. Unfortunately, with the sea so calm, we won’t be able to travel very fast.”

“Would you say we were closer to Ireland than York?” Magnus asked.

Vibold squinted out at the horizon. “Maybe. But it’s a good distance to either place.” He met Magnus’s gaze. “If you can’t find a way to pay the men when we reach our destination, you’re going to have problems.”

Magnus nodded, feeling grim. He thought of all the valuable cargo they’d tossed overboard. The women were the main things of value remaining on the ship. Since he couldn’t sell them, he had no means of paying the crew. And Vibold was right. If he couldn’t pay the crew, some other man would end up as captain, and Ailinn and the other women would belong to him.

Magnus struggled with the dilemma as he made his way to where the other men were gathered, breaking their fast. Although he didn’t have an answer yet, he would keep searching. In the meantime, he must demonstrate to the crew that he was looking to the future and making plans.

When he reached the men, several of them nodded to him in greeting. Asgar pointed to the remainder of a round cheese, a pottery bowl of salted fish and a pile of hard biscuits on one of the sea chests. “You must be hungry after your work yesterday.”

Magnus reached for his eating knife to cut a piece of cheese and realized he’d lost it when he was down in the hold. Seeing Magnus’s situation, Bragi handed him his own knife. “Where did the food come from?” Magnus asked.

“Hafgrim brought it up,” Bragi answered.

Magnus glanced around but didn’t see Hafgrim. “Where is he now?”

“I’m not sure,” said Asgar.

That was one of the things about a large ship, Magnus thought with a hint of unease. “I talked to Vibold. He says we’re west of Albion. As soon as the wind comes up, we must raise the sail and tack to the east.”

All the men nodded in agreement. It was clear they had great respect for Vibold and his navigation skills. “But where are we headed?” asked Lodur. “Are we still sailing for York? I’m not certain it’s worth making such a long journey, now that we have no cargo to sell.”

Magnus’s body prickled with warning. He must say something to divert attention from this line of thought. Before he could think of anything, Bragi said, “I wonder if the other ships made it through the storm.” Magnus thought anxiously of Orm. Before the storm, the
Seawolf
and the
Serpent
were always in sight. Now there was no sign of them.

“They’re much smaller vessels,” said Oleif responded. “Which might mean they’re more likely to go down.”

Magnus grimaced.

“I disagree,” Bragi put in. “The fact that they’re smaller makes it more likely they were able to ride out the storm.”

“Unless, like us, all the heavy cargo dragged them down,” said Asgar. “If we hadn’t jettisoned most of our load, we’d have foundered for certain.”

“But now we have nothing to sell when we reach port,” Lodar said in a peevish voice.

Magnus quickly interjected, “Shouldn’t we search for the other ships?”

“How would we know where to look?” asked Bragi. He shook his head. “They’ll have to find their way to land on their own. If they survived, that is.”

The other men seemed to be mulling over their circumstances, the same as he was. They’d survived the storm, but the future was uncertain. Especially
his
future. Any of these men might decide to challenge him for control of the ship. And the man with the best claim to do that was Thorvald

He cast a worried glance in the direction of the tent. “Where’s Thorvald?” he asked.

“Haven’t seen him this morning,” said Asgar.

Magnus got to his feet. He needed to keep an eye on his potential adversary. Reluctantly passing the tent, he made his way to the other side of the mast. Hafgrim, Thorvald and the remaining half dozen of the crew were gathered there, eating. He nodded a greeting to them. Hafgrim nodded back, but Thorvald just stared at him, his face expressionless. Magnus felt a tingling unease down his spine. It seemed likely he’d have to confront Croa’s nephew. But before that time came, he wanted to check on Ailinn. He started toward the tent.

* * *

Down in the hold, Ailinn had felt all along the sides of the vessel and found nothing. She was growing frustrated when she heard a cat mewing. The poor animal must have gotten trapped down here during the storm. When the cat mewed again, she followed the sound to the far end of the hold. Locating the cat, she pulled it from its perch high up on the curved end of the ship. As she did so, something fell into the water. She placed the panicked cat on a barrel, then sought out the object that had fallen. It was a wooden box.

She carried the box over to the opening in the deck where there was light and set it down on a barrel. Her fingers trembled as she pried off the lid. She gasped in amazement as the contents were revealed. The box was full of gold and silver: brooches, armbands and rings. Mingled among the fabulous ornaments were two daggers. Ailinn had never seen such beautiful things. She’d been hoping for treasure and she’d found it.

* * *

Reaching the tent, Magnus lifted the flap. The red-haired and younger women were sitting up. The injured woman named Gormlaith lay beside them. But there was no sign of Ailinn.

“Where’s Ailinn?” he demanded.

The red-haired woman shook her head and said something in Irish. When she didn’t look alarmed, Magnus’s anxiety eased. If any of the men had taken Ailinn, this woman wouldn’t appear so calm.
But where was she
? The only place left to look was the hold. But what was she doing down there?

He approached the opening in the deck. Sitting down, he lowered himself halfway down, then jumped into the ankle-deep water.

* * *

Ailinn admired the brooch at the bottom of the box. The piece portrayed a stag surrounded by the curving shapes of foliage. Although she’d seen similar designs before, she’d never seen them in a piece made entirely of gold. As she bent down to examine the precious stone that formed the stag’s eye, she heard a noise. Someone was coming down into the hold!

Panic slammed through her. She dropped the brooch back in the box and closed the lid. Then she crouched down next to the barrel.