Norseman Chief (33 page)

Then I jerked my eye to the arrow.  I knew that arrow.  I mean I knew who carried those arrows.  I knew not only what tribe the warrior from which the warrior hailed, I knew without a doubt exactly who launched the arrow that pierced that Mi’kmaq’s skull.

I have endured much physical pain in my life.  If you read my words, you’ve read about some of them.  From waters so frigid I felt as if I would be better to cut my hands from my arms, to a spear buried deep into my thigh, to bloodied noses, to a ringing head, to all sorts of injuries – I have survived them all and the bastards who’ve inflicted them upon me.  At that moment, when I knew who had saved us from the second attack, a thumping, burning, searing pain forced me to cry out in a woman-like gasp.  I crumpled to all fours between my surprised men.  I vomited everything I had consumed in the past day and then when I had nothing left I vomited the heaving air.  Torleik halted his prayers and soon I heard footfalls pounding toward me.  The world spun.  My body, my face, my injured eye splashed into my own vomit beaded up in the sand and there I slept or died or was resurrected.

CHAPTER 14

I had become a god.  For a time I convinced myself of this, anyway.  I had become a god, immortal in battle.  I was capable of being injured, but could not be killed.  My body would continue to age and deteriorate, but death would not find me, at least not on the field of battle.  No, I convinced myself for a short time that I was immortal.

“Oh Lord what a glorious day that was.  You commanded I show true faith and I did.  Look what became of the day!”  It was now the heart of winter, many weeks after our lopsided victory over the Pohomoosh.  It was the first time following that day when I recalled anything – any words, any images, anything.  Torleik sat cross-legged in my mamateek next to a roaring fire.  I was told I demanded more and more warmth in the days leading up to the priest’s visit, but if so I do not remember it.

With a poultice of some type covering my injured eye, I watched the priest with the other single, tired orb.  My body felt spent, exhausted, but I listened intently to his words, hoping he or someone else would tell me all that happened while I was dead.  “Tell me again,” I croaked with a voice that sounded more like the creaking of taut rope straining under pressure on a ship pounding the waves than the resonating boom it had once been, “What happened.  Why did I sleep for so long?”

I was in no mood for his answer of, “He’ll know!” and so I barked at Torleik as he started to form the words.  He would not be put off, however, and the priest narrowed his eyes, now saying, “He’ll know” in a low tone.  But he was jovial that day and returned quickly to truly answering my question.  “We thought you would die so you were dragged back to the village.  At first Hassun cared for you, but you continued to get worse.  Then when the rest of our warriors returned triumphant, Achak and I were put in charge of your recovery.”

“But neither of you know anything about healing men,” I huffed.  “Who told you to take over?”

“He’ll know!  Lord, as they say across the sea to one of your station, I’d say we’ve proven that we know more than a little about healing.  You’re talking with me now and I’d say you died at least three separate times since the battle.”  He stopped there admiring his own wit at proving me wrong.  “Oh, Alsoomse.”

“Alsoomse what?” I asked.

“He’ll know!”  Imagine how frustrating he was in live conversation and not just the re-telling!  Someday, I vowed, I would cease using any questions with the man.  “It was Alsoomse who directed us to see you recovered.”

“Why?  Forget that I just asked you a question.  Just begin telling me all that happened starting from when your knees hit the sand across from Aoutjaduch until right now.”

He looked at me, silent.  It was as if he were confused by the lack of something for which he waited.  I grew impatient.  “What is it, you old man?”

Then the flood gates opened, “He’ll know!” and Torleik started telling the tale.

“Oh, Chief Halldorr!  The whole thing is miraculous.  That’s what I am telling you.  When my knees sunk into the cool sand, I was so frightened at what might be across that channel peering at me from the island.  But I was resolved, first from your direction and confidence, but then from the One God!  You know he even says that in his word?”  The old man was so happy telling the tale I started enjoying it as if he told of Odin, the one-eyed, poet, warrior god around a bursting hearth at Yule.  I forgot it was about me.  “The prophet Isaiah said, ‘Confirma manus debiles!’ and if that weren’t enough, he concludes by saying, ‘Stabiliendae genua quae fatisco!’  Let me tell you when the prophet’s words came to me like that as my old feeble hands quivered and my bent knees ached down in the cool sand – that was when I knew we would be victorious!”

“You and your warriors walked away to begin the slaughter of the Pohomoosh and I followed your instructions by shouting the prayers of the Lord across the waters in the universal Latin tongue.  I felt strong then.  I think that I even saw the water ripple away from me with each word.  I was so certain at that moment that we could not be defeated.  Moments passed and I prayed while staring across the channel.  Behind me you howled the start of battle and I heard screams and crashes.  Then the underbrush across the water came alive, rattling, shaking as the forest coughed up scores upon scores of Mi’kmaq.  They carried canoes, leaping into them just as the crafts hit the water’s surface.”

“Scores of them?  Where did they all go?”

“He’ll know!  In time, Chief Halldorr.  I will tell you in time.”  Torleik licked the teeth he had left as if preparing for a long yarn.  “I am ashamed to tell you this part, but my faith from just a moment earlier vanished when I saw them all in their paint, brandishing all manners of weapons that would easily cut the scalp from my head.  So I closed my eyes, tight.  The One God knows I still prayed but I admit that the volume of my voice may have faltered.  And I tell you this part because you are jarl.  But chief, please allow me the dignity to tell the tale to others as I see fit.  While you slept I have been known to embellish some details when talking with the younger women.”

I chuckled at his pride, a pride all men shared.  “You may have your ‘embellishment.’”

“Good, good.  Thank you.  Now where was I?  Oh, yes, my eyes were closed and I heard them fast approaching.  I now murmured my prayer and my bladder let loose.”  The priest looked nervous again and opened his mouth to speak.  I interrupted.

“I’ll not say anything to anyone, especially the young women.  Now continue.”

“Good.  Thank you.  I heard them paddling.  They didn’t shout as they probably wanted to surprise you from behind.  Over the splashing and paddling I heard a distinct, very distinct, loud thump.  I have heard it when standing with your men as they hunt.  I had heard it growing up in Norway when my father took me to take down a reindeer.  It was an arrow cracking into flesh for sure!”

“At first, I worried that it was my own flesh and I was so nervous I just didn’t feel the pain.  But when the second thump rang out, I mustered the courage to peek a single eye open.  The Mi’kmaq still came, but the lead canoe floated aimlessly with a dead man in it and another floating nearby.  That is when the Lord began striking them down in earnest.  Thump!  Thump!  Thump!” the priest shouted, striking his fist against the earth to mimic the sound of his words.

“Mi’kmaq men were sent reeling from their canoes, blood splattered over their friends.  Halldorr, I tell you, arrows came from the sky.  God sent each of them.  Not a single one missed its mark.  None of them missed!  As you can imagine, I gained confidence right there.  Now I wasn’t so sure we were guaranteed victory as much as victory or defeat didn’t matter because God, the One God was for us!  I opened both eyes and prayed like a man half my age.  I shouted at the bastards in Norse at first because it was just so natural.  Then I switched to their tongue, because I wanted them to know for certain that I called upon the glory of the One God to bring about their demise.”

“When they began to understand what I said, and as the arrows from heaven slapped into their chests, the Mi’kmaq checked their paddling.  Suddenly they weren’t so eager to attack and be struck down.  They argued, but I don’t know what they said because I prayed so loudly that more arrows would kill them.  And they did!”  He laughed with excitement.

“Two canoes filled with men decided that they should continue the attack – probably in the name of their Great Spirit or in the name of that infected goat teat, Luntook, God rest his soul, and resumed paddling.”

“Wait a moment.  Luntook is dead?”

“Oh, he’ll know!” the priest chided me.  “In time, chief, in time.  You asked for the tale, now sit still.  You remind me of a baby standing on wobbling legs whose shit-filled cloth makes him fidget.”  Hurit came in to the mamateek then.  The woman smiled silently at me, having spoken to me for a short while that morning.  I loved that woman and was happy when she came to sit next to me as Torleik continued.  I was surprised at just how much her presence warmed me.  Hurit placed some buckskin article in her lap that required mending so that her hands were kept busy just as my Norse sisters would have done under the same circumstances.

“Those two canoes struck the sand and men piled over the sides.  Each of them raised their weapon to me, but I had no fear at that point.  I even straightened my back to meet the blow cleanly and with honor.  But look at me now!  I was not even touched.  Each of those who intended to kill me, were themselves cut down with the Lord’s arrows.  I looked straight ahead at the canoes in the water while hearing the thud of death kill the Mi’kmaq around me.  Then two of them, probably the bravest two of all the Mi’kmaq warriors decided that they must keep the attack moving.  They decided to by-pass me and run toward the forest behind me.  The first one must have only made two steps before I heard him grunt from an arrow strike.  He toppled backward against me, but I ignored the blow and kept on praying.  Two of his companions stood in front of me at the water’s edge.  They stared in wild-eyed amazement.  I heard the footsteps of the second man who ran past me as they moved away, up toward the forest.  In the Mi’kmaq tongue, I asked the One God to send him to the earth from whence he came and was so pleased when I heard the crack of bone and skidding of his lifeless form into the sand.”

“They broke then!  As if I gave them all a signal, those remaining in their canoes spun and paddled away.  They didn’t go to Aoutjaduch, though, they paddle directly out of the channel and headed to sea for the Mi’kmaq territory of Epekwitk.  The two left standing next to me spent a heartbeat in confusion before plunging back into their canoes, piloting each of them solo after their cowardly friends.”

“I shouted to them all for a while after that, watching their canoes climb up and fall down the swells, hoping that the words from the One True God would send the boats to the sea floor.  That’s when I heard you scream out behind me.”

In truth my plan for Torleik was nothing.  I hoped the sight of the strange, white-haired, giant, pale priest speaking in a completely unfamiliar tongue would merely delay the other band of Mi’kmaq long enough for my men to wipe out the smaller band and turn to face the surprise force.  I fully expected that Torleik would have been killed and scalped.  Some of you may not have ever led men into battle.  If that is so for you, I am sorry for your life has not been filled.  Battle, war, combat crystallizes the mind.  It makes difficult decisions simple.  It is to those of you who have not led or killed men to whom I speak now.  Do not judge me for my seemingly cavalier willingness to sacrifice Torleik, the only one of my countrymen yet living among us.  A battlefield commander must make decisions with the full knowledge that some of the very men to whom he gives orders, will not survive the day.  Torleik was such a man.  I thought Torleik’s sacrifice, may give the rest of us time to survive a little longer.

Torleik wasn’t sacrificed though.  His prayers brought a maelstrom of arrows from the One God.  As my mind turned on the story, I recalled that I saw unmistakable arrows buried in those dead men on the beach.  “Alsoomse,” I whispered as I thought about my daughter.

“You are right, chief.  When I heard you cry out, I scampered up to you.  First, of course, I splashed some water from the channel higher onto my robes to disguise the . . .”  He looked at Hurit, considering what to say.

“I know why you splashed the water,” I said.  “Now talk.”  Hurit would not have cared anyway.

“Good.  As I approached you and your men, Alsoomse burst out of the brush carrying an enormous bow and a quiver of the very arrows that had brought down our enemies.  I thought it strange that the young woman held them at all.  And they were, well they are, just so big for such a fine creature.  But those thoughts vanished when I saw that your men had rolled you onto your back.  I saw the wicked, damaged eye of yours.  And the arrow, one made by the people of Enkoodabooaoo, lodged in your belly.  I don’t even know why you still wear that mail any longer, it is so worn.  The arrow easily found a hole large enough through which to drive a herd of reindeer.”

“Alsoomse cried out and dropped to her knees, placing her wrist above your mouth to see if you yet lived, because your chest did not rise and fall as it should.  When she was satisfied that the spirit hadn’t left you yet, do you know what she said to me?  This little girl whom I instructed in language and writing for so many years, enduring her games and jokes – do you know that once the little beast set my robes on fire by carefully nudging them into the cooking fire while we studied your books?”

“Yes, I remember that.  What did she say to you while I was dying on the beach?”  Instinctively my hand reached down to feel the scarred knot on my stomach.  It seeped a little that day.

Torleik continued, “She told me that I had to keep you alive until I got you to Hassun and then the task was his responsibility.  She told me that if you died under my care or under Hassun’s eye, that she would cut my walnut sack from between my legs!  Can you believe the insolence?”

I smiled at the insolence.  “And what did you do then, priest?  And if you answer, ‘he’ll know’ one more time, I’ll call in my little Skjoldmo to cut your shriveled walnut sack right now.”