Voyage with the Vikings Page 2
Patrick’s heart all but stopped. The animals were coming too fast. There were so many of them. It would be useless to run.
Whoosh! A spear came flying through the air.
Thud! It landed right in front of Patrick.
“Where did that come from?” Patrick shouted.
“Who cares?” Beth shouted back at him. “Use it!”
Patrick pulled the spear out of the ground. He moved in front of Beth. He turned the spear sideways and faced the animals.
“Out of the way!” he shouted to the coming reindeer.
He waved the spear to his left. Then to his right.
The animals did not change their path. They charged straight at the cousins.
“Whoa!” he shouted louder.
Beth was sure they’d be trampled. She closed her eyes.
“Yaw!” Patrick shouted.
He braced himself for impact.
At the last second, the lead reindeer swerved to the right. But the animals were still close.
Beth could smell them. She could feel their heat. She breathed in to make herself as thin as possible. One wrong step or stumble and she and Patrick would be crushed.
The herd thundered past in seconds. Patrick closed his eyes in relief.
“Phew!” he said. “That was close.”
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw two men on black horses. They galloped down the hill.
“Look,” Beth said. “I think those men were hunting the reindeer. One of them must have thrown the spear.”
The men wore tan tunics. Their capes were red. Their helmets were gold. One held a long bow. The other clutched a sword.
“They’re Vikings!” Patrick said. “I got my wish!”
Erik the Red
The reindeer were now forgotten. The cousins had new worries.
The two Viking men rode up close and got off their horses.
Patrick studied them. They were very tall. One was older and had red hair, lots of red hair. It hung to his shoulders. He also had a bushy beard. Even the skin on his face was red from the sun and wind. The other man was younger with blond hair and fair skin.
Beth thought the younger Viking was handsome. The older one looked fierce.
The hunters slowly moved to the cousins. The younger one put an arrow in his bow. He pulled back the string. He pointed the arrow at Patrick.
The elder Viking moved even closer. He lifted his sword. Patrick noticed there was a bright yellow stone on the handle.
Beth spoke out of the side of her mouth. “Drop the spear,” she said quietly.
“What?” Patrick said.
“Drop the spear,” Beth said again. “They think we are enemies.”
Patrick had forgotten about the spear. He looked down at it. The tip was made of an animal tusk. And it was pointed straight at the men. He let the spear fall to the grass.
At once the younger Viking lowered his bow. But the older Viking kept hold of the sword.
The older red-haired Viking looked at Patrick. His mouth curved in a half smile. He turned to the younger Viking.
“The boy prisoner has shown great courage,” the Red Viking said. He was talking as if the cousins couldn’t hear him.
“The boy had no fear of the reindeer,” he said. “He must be Norse—a Viking. He has the light hair.”
The Red Viking studied Beth for a moment. He did not seem pleased.
“The girl prisoner is small and dark haired,” the man said. “She has the look of a house slave.”
Beth frowned. She wanted to protest. But she was too shocked to speak.
“Who are you?” Patrick asked.
The Red Viking looked at Patrick. “I am Erik the Red,” he said. He made a fist with his hand and thumped his chest twice.
Patrick didn’t recognize the name. But Beth did. She gasped.
“You’re the ruler of Greenland!” she said.
Erik nodded. Then he said proudly, “This is my son Leif.”
He nodded toward the blond Viking. The younger man now came closer.
“You are trespassing on our land,” Leif said.
“We are?” Patrick asked.
Erik looked around. “Where is your ship?” he asked. “Where are your oarsmen hiding?”
Erik leaned in closer. The children could smell his breath. It smelled of fish and salt.
“Did the king of Norway send you to spy on us?” Erik said. “Tell me the truth. Or you will feel the blade of my sword!”
Patrick didn’t know what to say. He had no idea if Norway had a king. He didn’t even know where Norway was. His mouth was dry. His heart was pounding.
Beth’s eyes grew large as saucers. Erik the Red was famous for fighting. No words would come out of her mouth. She couldn’t breathe.
Finally Leif spoke up.
“Father,” he said, “they are but children.”
The older Viking took a step back and turned toward his son.
“Ha! Children are the best spies, I say!” Erik said.
Leif laughed kindly. “But they are also Christians,” he said.
Erik looked surprised. “Oh?”
“Look closely,” Leif said. “The girl wears the sign of the cross. See the brooches at her shoulders?”
Beth looked down at her brooches. She hadn’t paid much attention to them before. They were gold and round. Each one had a cross in the center.
“The boy also wears it,” Leif said.
The clasp to Patrick’s bearskin cape was silver. It was shaped like a kite. The cross was in the center.
Erik grunted in anger. He reached out and stroked the fur on Patrick’s cape.
“Give me the silver-skinned cape,” Erik said to Patrick. “Since I am the ruler here, it belongs to me.”
Patrick’s hands shook as he reached to undo the clasp.
“No, Father,” Leif said. “Please let the boy keep his cape. They are Christians. I will defend their rights.”
Erik glared at his son. He spat on the ground. “You are too soft and kind. Why can’t you be more like a Viking?”
“Always using a sword? Stealing?” Leif asked. “I will not just take what I want. Or kill for it. I am an honest trader.”
“Honest?” Erik said. He sneered. And then he shook his sword at Leif. The yellow stone on its handle sparkled in the sunlight.
He shouted, “You cheated me! I sent you to Norway to trade goods. But you brought home a new God! The God of the cross!”
“Jesus the Christ,” Leif said.
Leif looked at his father. The son’s face was full of concern and hurt. Beth thought that this must be an old argument between them.
Erik spat on the ground again. “Your Christ is a God of peace—not war! He has no place in Greenland!”
Erik shook his sword one last time. Then he seemed to give up. He slid his weapon into its holder. He turned on his heel, walked over to his horse, and climbed on.
“You may watch over these children,” Erik said to Leif. “But if I ever find them alone, I will take them as slaves!”
The Church
Erik had no more to say to Leif or the cousins. He jerked the horse’s reins. Then he rode toward the shore.
All was still for a moment.
Then Leif turned to the children.
“You’ll be safer in the village,” he said. “I know where you can stay out of his way.”
“Will your father really make us his slaves?” Patrick asked.
“Yes,” Leif said. “But don’t worry. Father and I sail for Norway tomorrow.”
“Are you sailing on that ship?” Beth asked. She pointed toward the ship she and Patrick had found. Erik the Red was now standing on the jetty.
“Yes. That’s our knorr,” Leif said.
“Knorr?” Beth asked.
“Our trading ship,” Leif said. “My father is going to make sure it won’t leak. Now, let’s go. I have much to do today.”
He lifted Beth and then Patrick onto his horse. Beth sat i
n front. Patrick was in the middle, and Leif was at the back. There was just enough room on the horse for the three of them.
Beth had always wanted a horse. She stroked its black mane. The hair was rough and it tickled her fingers.
The horse carried them over the hill and down into a valley. Beth had been glad to see the ocean. She had seen reindeer up close. But now she was seeing a third awesome sight: Before her was a charming Norse village.
All the houses were made of stone. They had dirt roofs with grass growing on top. Goats and sheep roamed about grazing. Others drank at a nearby stream. Large gray rocks dotted the landscape.
Leif brought the horse to a halt. They were beside a small building.
“This is the church,” he said. “My father will not come inside it. Not even to harm you.”
Leif helped Beth and Patrick slide off the horse. The cousins entered through a low, narrow door. Inside was one room. It was the size of Beth’s bedroom back home. A rock with a cross carved on it hung from one wall. There were no windows.
In the middle of the floor sat a small fire ring. But no fire was burning. Along the walls were several wood benches.
Leif asked the cousins to wait. He left and closed the door. The cousins sat on one of the benches.
“Did you hear Leif ?” Beth asked. “The ship—the ship with the Imagination Station—is leaving tomorrow!”
Patrick sighed.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said.
“We have to find the Sunstone. We must get back to the ship before it leaves,” Beth said.
“Did you see Erik’s sword?” Patrick asked.
“Yeah,” Beth said. “And he’s not afraid to use it. We have to stay away from him.”
“Who is he?” Patrick asked.
“Erik the Red discovered this land. He named it Greenland,” Beth said. “Before that he lived in Iceland.”
“Why did he leave Iceland?” Patrick asked.
“A powerful man stole Erik’s family treasures,” Beth said. “There was a fight between the families, and people died. The Icelanders wanted the fighting to stop. So they kicked Erik out.”
“They kicked him out of his own country?” said Patrick.
“Yes,” Beth said. “Erik had a ship and crew. So he sailed away to become a trader. That’s when he discovered Greenland. He settled here and raised a family.”
“I’ve heard of Leif,” Patrick said. “My teacher said he discovered North America 500 years before Columbus did!”
Just then the door opened and a woman came in. She was dressed much like Beth, except a scarf covered her blonde hair.
A string of colorful beads hung between the brooches on her tunic. A large gold cross dangled from the string.
Beth was relieved to see the cross. A Christian Viking was a peaceful Viking. At least she hoped so.
“Children,” she said, “I am Thjodhild, the wife of Erik the Red and mother of Leif.”
Beth tried to say her name, but it sounded all wrong. It came out half bird-call, half cough.
The woman laughed.
“You may call me Hilda. That is easier to say,” she said.
Beth stood and gave Hilda a curtsey.
“I’m Beth,” she said. “And this is my cousin Patrick.”
Patrick said nothing. Beth gently elbowed him in the ribs. Sometimes she had to remind Patrick of his manners.
He jumped to his feet.
“Oh, hi, I guess,” Patrick said. He held out his hand for a handshake. Hilda gave him a funny look.
Vikings must not know about handshakes, Patrick thought. He pulled back his hand.
“Wait,” Hilda said.
She stepped outside. A minute later she came back with two soapstone bowls of milk. She put them down on a bench. She left again and came back with two plates of cooked meat.
“These are for you,” she said.
The cousins thanked her.
She gave them a smile and nodded.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer,” she said.
Hilda left them. Beth and Patrick sat down again. They each said a silent prayer of thanks to God before they ate.
The milk was warm but still tasty. The meat was salty and full of juice. It had an odd taste.
Halfway through the meal, Beth stopped chewing.
“What kind of meat is this?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Patrick said. He took another bite.
“Seal meat? Walrus? Reindeer?” she asked.
Patrick laughed. “Meat is meat.”
She swallowed and pushed the rest of her food toward Patrick. “Then you can eat it,” she said.
And he did. Beth paced around the room. Leif’s ship would leave soon. They had less than a day to find a Viking Sunstone. But searching the village wouldn’t be easy. They needed a plan. A safe plan.
The Ship
Patrick finished his meal and stood up.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to leave the church. The Sunstone isn’t in here.”
“Are you nuts?” Beth said. “I think we should wait for Leif. We can’t go out alone. If Erik finds us—”
“If Erik finds us,” Patrick said, “he’ll lock us up. What’s the difference? Aren’t we locked up now?”
Patrick’s way of thinking didn’t sound right to Beth.
“But—” she said.
“And what about Mr. Whittaker’s friend?” Patrick said. “He’s going to be locked in a tower if we don’t find the Sunstone. Remember the note? ‘To save Albert, I need a Viking Sunstone before the new moon. Or he will be locked inside Lord Darkthorn’s tower.’”
Beth shook her head. “I want to help. But it’s too dangerous. I’m staying here.”
She crossed her arms.
“Okay,” Patrick said. “See you when I get back.”
The door closed behind him with a thud.
Patrick stepped into the sunlight. He blinked.
There were two dozen or so Viking men marching on a path.
Four of them carried a long wood beam. It was wrapped in ropes. Patrick guessed it might be the ship’s mast. It would hold up the sail.
The rest of the men carried small wooden chests or barrels on their shoulders. Bundles were tucked under their arms. Oars were strapped to their backs.
Patrick watched the crowd. Erik the Red was not among them.
“Excuse me,” Patrick said to one of the men. “Where is Leif?”
“He’s at the shore,” the man said. “He’s getting the ship ready. Isn’t that what a good captain does?”
“And Erik the Red?” Patrick asked.
“He’s gone home,” said the man. “He says he hurt his shoulder. But if you ask me, he’s afraid to sail. He’s too old.”
Patrick looked at all the stuff going to the ship. What if a Sunstone were in one of the chests? Since Erik wasn’t around, Patrick felt brave. He would go to the ship. He had to take the risk.
The man tossed a bundle to Patrick.
“Here,” said the man, “carry this for me.”
The bundle was a bedroll made of reindeer skin. Patrick walked with the Norsemen the half mile to shore.
The Viking ship was very close to the land now. A long plank of wood stretched from the ship’s side to the shore. The plank had ropes tied to it so it wouldn’t move.
Leif shouted orders for the sailors to load the ship. Patrick stayed at the end of the line. He didn’t want Leif to see him.
He scanned the ship for Erik. The sailor had been right. The old Viking wasn’t there.
The men who carried the mast walked up the plank first. Then the other men took chests, bundles, and barrels aboard. The cargo was neatly stowed in rows. The oars were laid next to the sides of the ship. Patrick followed, glad he had a bundle to carry. As long as he was helping, the men seemed to accept him.
Soon most of the men gathered to set up the mast. A group was using ropes to raise the sail. Others were placing braces around the beam
.
No one was near Patrick. Now was his chance. He looked over more of the bundles. They were all just bedrolls. Some had extra clothes inside. No Sunstone.
Patrick opened a few of the chests. Some were full of grain. Others had dried fish. He opened the largest one.
It was full of animal furs. Sheep’s wool. Polar bear skins. Walrus hides. Nothing that looked like a Sunstone was inside.
He began to wonder.
All this time I’ve been on the ship, he thought. But there is no sign of the Imagination Station. Where is that red button? Is the machine broken? Does Beth have to be with me?
Then a sudden noise broke into his thoughts.
“Stop, thief!” a sailor shouted.
The Thief
Patrick looked up from the chest of furs.
Everyone was staring at Patrick.
“Captain,” said the sailor, “a boy is stealing furs!”
The sailor came up to him. He grabbed the edge of Patrick’s silver cape.
“Look,” he said. “He stole this fur cape.”
“It’s not what you think,” Patrick said. “This is mine!”
The men gathered around. Some of them pulled out knives.
“Wait,” said a voice. Leif pushed through the crowd.
The sailor took a step back from Patrick.
Relief washed over Patrick. He looked up at Leif.
“I’m sorry,” Patrick said. “I just wanted to see what was inside. I didn’t take anything. I promise!”
Leif said to his sailors, “I’ll deal with the boy. The day’s work is done. You may all go. But be here before dawn tomorrow!”
A cheer went up among the men. They ran down the plank to shore.
“Where is the girl?” Leif asked Patrick. “Is she safe?”
“I left her at the church,” Patrick said.
“Where you should be,” Leif said. “Don’t you understand what will happen now?”
“No,” Patrick said.
“The people are going to the last feast before we sail,” Leif said.
“Great!” Patrick said. “I love parties.”
“This party is not for you. They worship the Norse gods like Thor. They offer sacrifices.”
Patrick gasped. “Idol worship?” he asked.