‘You are mine.’
I watched him climb over the benches that lined the ship. He was nimble for his size. He wore dark breaches and an intricate tunic overlain with chain mail, displaying the ravencrest of his banners. I had helped him braid his hair, much to his annoyance.
High above us, Drest and Freyja chased each other across a cloudless sky, like tossed paper. I delighted in seeing them spread their wings. Even Thorkell, who Sigurd said was as grumpy as any Dwarf, had stopped to watch them spin and twist and land lightly on the railing of the ship to eat morsels that I had thrown for them. A smile etched across his face.
As the sea narrowed into the firth, rolling hills grew on either side marking the entrance to the river that would take us to Atholl. This time, I did not wish for the Biasd na Sroigag to upturn our ships and rescue me. I had been blessed in my first crossing and I wanted to keep it that way.
In the clearness of the day, I could see my father’s fortress. Our ships would look like steppingstones snaking their way up the firth. Sigurd turned our ships off course, bringing them ashore in a small cove sheltered behind evergreens and ash trees. Our ships would be invisible. There would be no crowds to greet our arrival. They had no word that we were coming. It would provide safety from attack and enough food and wood to keep us warm.
‘Why have we come ashore here?’ I said as he helped me onto land.
‘I may have pledged my fealty to him, it does not mean I trust him.’
‘It is wise,’ I said, planting myself down on the first visible rock. ‘A rotten branch can be found in every tree.’
‘We will camp here. At midday, we will travel with three of the ships to meet your father. The rest will stay here.’
‘Should we send a messenger?’
‘No, it will be a surprise.’
I watched the men go to work quickly, unloading the ships of supplies and weapons. Soon, fires were set, and shelterswere made. These were the men that ravaged lands. Sixty-eight monks had been killed at Martyrs Bay when they set sail for Iona. I would listen to the priest’s sermons, of the ferocity of the Danes, how St Blathmac had been a good Christian, and he had refused to tell them where he had hidden the treasures and relics of Columba. How he had been made a martyr for his cause. Even as a child, I knew that all of the prayers in the world would not save him from being run through with a sword, more likely that he was stripped naked and made a fool before they killed him. I should have known, I had prayed and prayed for salvation that never came, not until the day the Danes arrived to take me to Orkney.
I caught sight of Ligach striding towards me. She was beautiful, in the green and gold dress I had given her and angry as an adder.
‘Ligach, I trust you travelled well?’
‘Oh aye, throwing me with the wolves in Agda’s boat was just what I wanted.’
‘Sigurd warned them you were not to be harmed.’
‘I was safe from their hands, not from their tongues. I have never heard such filth from women!’
She squeezed herself next to me so that she might whisper in my ear. ‘When is it we plan to leave?’ She smiled warmly, tapping the waist of her skirts and it clinked. ‘Drunkards drop many coins that they never miss.’
I took her hand in mine knowing that what I was about to say would give her little comfort.
‘I am not leaving with you. I am visiting my father and then I am returning with my sister to Orkney.’
‘You want ta be with him? Go back to that heathen place?’ She turned to face me. ‘You promised me that I could be free, that you would return me home!’ She looked half-wild now.
‘Will you sit down?’ I pleaded, weary of the ears that might be listening. ‘And I will not break that promise.’
She sighed heavily and sat again. ‘I will not give you long.’
She always pretended to be angry, but she was quiet as a lamb. ‘You will come with us when we visit with my father, as my handmaid. He will no be expecting us. When night arrives, I have no doubt he will throw us a lavish dinner, where he will ask Sigurd to go to war for him against Finnleik and his men. After the meal, when the men are full of ale, I’ll fetch you to the stables and find you a mare. No one will know you’re gone and I will tell Sigurd once he is sobered that I freed you.’
‘Dinna be fooled, he does not love ya. No sooner will you be back and they’ll be making a pelt from Angus and a headdress of feathers from yer falcon. It is madness for you to go back when you are so close to freedom.
From the edge of the clearing, small fires burned fiercely around raised tents. Men and women gathered around them to warm themselves and roast meat to fill hungry bellies, their shields and swords forgotten mounds.
‘Sigurd has already agreed to free you.’ Although I had not asked him, he would stand by me. ‘Whether here or Orkney, he will not go back on his word. You will have one of my father’s horses and you will be able to return to your family.’
I could feel her hand trembling in mine.
‘How can I leave you knowing what they are? We have been like sisters.’
‘I have suffered my whole life at the hands of a mother who did not care and a father who was cruel. No good could ever come of returning to Atholl and I will not let them have my child to ruin as they tried with my sister and I.’
