Outward Borne (15 page)

It was a cold, foggy morning when
my world came crashing down. Alric and Bertram had been up before
dawn to finish offloading the supplies needed by the post. No one
woke me, and by the time Loboc became concerned, the crew was
climbing about the open boat, rebalancing her load under the
benches and deep along the center keel, in order to take the Gray
Gosling out to sea on the morning tide. They would not be returning
to Lindisport with me, as I expected. Alric had learned that his
was the first boat to call at the post that spring. If he hurried,
he might be the first trading ship to sail the rivers south of our
fjord. Trade goods were scarce after the long winter and were
valued highest when they first arrived. The greatest profits would
be his, he hoped, if they left now. Loboc and I were to be
abandoned at the trading post for the summer. When I ran to Alric
and started to cry at being left abandoned, he was confused. It was
all understood, he said, it had been arranged for me to work at the
trading post for the summer. In that way old Alaric had managed to
dump me in Cyphus, well away from any bother I might cause him, and
too far away to complain about being betrayed.

The cursed place proved to be a
gray, windswept, remote, bug-infested sand hill, just as I thought.
The only people there were old Audovert, who managed the place
along with Tolle as cook, two lunk-headed louts, Ebert and Eurovic,
sniveling Osroyd, and gloomy Ugawendt. Ugawendt would blacken a
dark room with her forlorn attitude. She complained for weeks about
using an stubby, old, worn-out broom, then complained for two weeks
more when she was given a stiff, coarse new one, and I had to share
a bed with her for the whole summer. All during that long string of
dismal days, I dreamt of our dear farm, how safe and warm it was,
the sod roof so green in the summer, and how much I wanted to
return.

In overdue time, that long string
of dreary days finally ended when the Red Brigitae came in from her
last voyage and we set about shutting up the post for the winter.
We had moved piles of things in from the wood-sided bins that were
hidden among the dunes. The Red Brigitae was piled high with furs
and seed grains as she readied to move into the fjord. She was so
low in the water, and so top heavy with benches and stools, that I
thought she would blow over in the wind, but Eudovig just laughed
at me when he pushed off.

“
The Brigitae is fine with this
load, but if you were to sit on top we just might go belly up, you
have grown so big,” he called while puffing up his chest and making
a rude gesture. At least someone besides Ebert and Eurovic
noticed.

I was anxious for the return of
Alric and Bertram. Audovert told me that the Gray Gosling would be
gone for three months on a voyage across the strait to the far
north. They were past due. I remember leaving the trading room door
open so that I could see toward the mouth of the Sliefe, but as the
day ended, the wind turned cold, and I kicked it shut. The room
darkened, there was little light from the high window slits, but
perhaps my dog would let me know when the Gray Gosling rounded the
sand hills.

The villages had operated the post
to capture trade with the merchant ships of the northern sea. There
were dangerous storms in the open waters of that sea, the sailors
said wind and rain would come upon them with barely time to pull
down their sail, so most ships passed through the narrow sea-lane
between the islands and along the peninsula to seek a bit of
protection. That brought them near to the mouth of the Sliefe Fjord
where most fishermen, traders, as well as some wild Vikings, found
it attractive to stop at the post and conduct some business. It
seemed to be enough to keep them from burning the place down; at
least for the year I was there.

My own standing at Cyphus had
risen during the summer. I had a habit of walking the beach with
Loboc whenever I had an opportunity. The land near the sea was all
dunes and moraines with a few scrubby trees, but the currents and
winds of the upper fjord collected driftwood and downed trees on
the beach between the post and the mouth of the fjord. Loboc and I
would walk along the sand and I would try to imagine the storms and
winds that had toppled such giants.

I sent word to Penda, a woodsman
from the Nehdun forests, about my beach of trees. He came down
river in late spring, after the floods, to see them for himself.
There were several straight-grain cedars and large pine trunks
there at that time. He and his son Sighard cut them into manageable
logs and towed them to villages far down the fjord. Logs that would
rot worthless in the forest, too large to move, were worth a good
deal when sitting a few feet from the town green. Penda was
fortunate to have come when he did. Trees would arrive at the beach
like visitors. They would stay awhile then leave when the wind
changed or the tide was right. Penda asked me to look out for good
trees and straight trunks and to tie them down so they would not
float away.

Audovert grumbled at me for being
away from the trading post, or as he put it, “mooning about not
tending to my chores.” One day three fishing boats were tied up at
the dock while Penda was working on a particularly big tree. They
marveled at how fast Sighard could debark and split long oak planks
using the metal wedges the blacksmiths had made. They convinced
Penda to trim some trees into masts and spars and set them aside as
spares in case of need. A month later one of the boats returned. It
was in bad shape, with its sails hanging in shreds, but even so, it
was better than others in the fleet. Two of them had lost their
rigging in a storm three days before and had to row onto a rocky
shore. The fisherman bought new masts and rope for repairs.
Suddenly, the trimmed-up logs became Audovert’s most valuable
wares.

Audovert was a lot nicer to me
after that. He even offered to help secure some of the bigger trees
when Loboc and I could not get them properly on shore. One day,
after there were a few more sales, Audovert was in an expansive
mood and promised me the choice of any three pelts on the trading
floor. I was very proud to be recognized for something that I had
done myself, but I did not make my choice right away. I wanted to
await the return of the Gray Gosling as Alric might carry even
better pelts from the Northlands.

Alric and Bertram had taken the
Gray Gosling north to trade for iron blooms and furs. Now it was
late in the season and I was afraid that a storm might have left
them stranded on some bleak shore where they would be trapped by
ice. I had no fear that they would be lost at sea, though it is a
dangerous place, but they could be gone for the winter. Alric and
Bertram were small, scrawny men, but surprisingly strong and the
best of seamen, and besides, they were two of my favorite people.
Still, it was important that they get home for the winter. Our
villages’ prosperity depended a lot on the ironwork that was
produced over the winter months. Nehdun blacksmiths made nails,
hinges, hooks and needles, as these were most profitable and did
not require so much iron, but all was still dependent on a trading
ship bringing raw metal from the far reaches of the sea.

I was woken early the next morning
when Loboc jumped on top of me. He had been my great friend and
protector ever since I was a small girl. He was still bigger than
I, so he was not to be ignored, and he knew that the Gray Gosling
was entering the fjord on the morning tide. I put my shoes on,
wrapped myself in my blanket, and ran to the top of the landing.
Alric and Bertram were standing in the bow of the knorr waving and
laughing, and I waved and laughed back at them. Behind Alric and
Bertram, rowing madly, were two immense clods of red hair, each
atop a broad back. Whoever they were, they had not been with the
crew when the Gosling left us.

The ship’s bow dug into the
pebbles as Alric jumped into the water and ran up the embankment.
We met with a great hug with Loboc jumping up to join us. After
almost knocking us over, he stepped back, growling. I looked up and
let out a yelp myself, as two massive angry bodies closed on me
each with a shield and battle sword. They stared at me as if they
would pin me to the trading post wall when Alric, still laughing,
waved his arms and began babbling about how I was like his sister,
as if that was pertinent to the moment. The two giant girls, for
girls they were, obviously did not speak our language very well.
Bertram came over and started talking about sisters as well. One of
the girls seemed to get the idea, and explained it to the other. A
miraculous change occurred within a moment as they both broke out
in big smiles and happy eyes, dropped their swords and picked me up
in more great hugs. They were all hugging and laughing, which gave
me a chance to catch my breath, back away, and take in the strange
scene.

Alric and Bertram looked so much
alike that they could be brothers. They are small fellows with thin
faces and shocks of red-brown hair that grew mostly straight up
from the top of their heads. They keep it that way by periodically
hacking off hunks with their knives. The girls were nearly twice
their size. Big legs, wide bodies, strong-arms, all covered in
delicate pink skin complete with freckles. Masses of red hair
surrounded round jolly faces, for indeed both girls were
good-natured and as easy as any I have known. It is clear that the
red girls, as they were known, had adopted Alric and Bertram and
intended to protect them from any danger and all women, save
sisterly ones.

Bertram walked with a rolling gait
into the post, sat down to steady himself, and told how they met
the girls in a far northern village. The Gosling, he said, had been
brought to shore in the evening as they did for most nights. They
were near a seaside town, which could be a danger, but this one
appeared to be deserted. The nine crewmen were busy securing the
boat while the two stepped away to look around. Suddenly, a mass of
wild women came running from the stunted trees above the beach
armed with long swords, spears, and shields. Alric said that they
were so frightened and stunned by the spectacle that they could do
nothing but stand there and look pathetic. As the wild women got
closer, they could see that the unarmed little men were no threat.
Hilde and Gunhild stepped forward, picked up a man each, carried
them to the council hall, provided beer and food, and took to the
sad things as if the were wet kittens in a storm. Of course
everyone loves wet kittens, so when the Gray Gosling set sail, the
red girls sailed as well. So, after several adventures and much
rowing, the red girls came all the way to our fjord, and were
destined to travel a great distance beyond that.

I told Alric about Audovert’s
promise of three pelts. He clapped his hands, and went digging into
a bundle that was well wrapped in sealskin. He pulled out three
sable pelts of the choicest glossy brown fur I had ever seen. They
were not very large, but clearly the finest anyone would have. I
stayed up all night with Hilde, who knew how best to handle the
furs, and sewed them on to my green robe as a wide collar and
matching cuffs. I felt so fine. Now I would be noticed for myself
and no longer as one of the herd of unmarried girls that hung
around the fringe of village life.

It was fall, going on winter.
Leaves had fallen from the trees, all except for the pin oaks that
would hold tight to their dry brown leaves until the dawn of
spring. The skies were gray, as they had been for many days,
typical for that time of year and the wind was picking up. Even so,
there was a haze over the fjord and the hills on the far side were
just a darker field of gray. It was the end of my unwanted summer
at Cyphus, our gloomy trading post, and I so looked forward to my
return to the village for the winter.

I had nothing to do on the boat,
as the crew was well used to sailing, so I once again sat high on
the bow as the ship made its way back to Lindisport. When we turned
into Black Creek, I felt the wind take on a chill and so I had to
put on my green robe. Word spread up the river faster than the Gray
Gosling could travel and a crowd had gathered on the dock to see us
arrive. I was so excited that I had to stand at the front of the
ship, my green cape blowing around me, but as I saw no one that I
knew well, I did not wave or make a spectacle of myself.

Penda had already passed through
the village and told stories of my success in capturing the great
tree falls, and the profits he had made from the beached logs. Of
course, the unmarried girls of Lindisport had heard all of this
gossip and of my fine sable collar and cuffs, so even before the
Gray Gosling touched the pier, they were displeased. They would
have made it a difficult time for me, but I only really cared for
the favor of my best and faithful friend Mildryth. It would have
been a trial to win some place in their society, but I was not to
stay with Alaric in Lindisport. My mother had sent word for me to
return home. I rather enjoyed my singularity during that time,
which only made those other girls more jealous I fear, oh
well.

Chapter 11 Abduction -
Earth

It had been a clear sunny day, not
so very cold, almost warm in the sun, though a light wind had
picked up when evening came on. I had an hour before the cows
needed tending, so I went walking with Livida, my father’s
long-legged hound. I loved to watch her run the low hills between
our farm and the edge of Feldland. With her long, graceful strides,
she whisked through the tall grass and jumped the fallen trees with
amazing ease. I felt for her, as she did not get much fond
attention since he died. I was following far behind when I come
onto an open ridge where I could see Dagobert standing on top of a
cleared rise pointing to the sky. He seemed to be excited about
something, so I called to Livida and we ran together to see what
was happening. Several others were there by the time we arrived,
all looking into the high blue sky. Dagobert was my brother’s best
friend even though he was five years older. He had seen something
flashing in the sun, very high up, even above the cloud wisps. It
seemed to be moving slowly in a large circle. The thing would
disappear as we watched, then flash brightly in the late sunlight.
It flew in lazy circles like a vulture seeking carrion. I was about
to leave, as Livida was getting nervous, but it seemed to have come
closer, so I stayed. Oswald thought it was a white eagle, but it
looked to be silver rather than white and was much too big. I
wondered how low it would come.