Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (14 page)

             
“Where’s Emma?  She rode out after you?” 

             
She looked away, unable to meet the older woman’s gaze.  “She was with me when we spotted the Vikings.  She, er, ran into the woods......”

             
Godgyth was silent for a moment then her mouth set into a prim line.  “Saving her own skin and the Devil take the hindmost, I know my daughter, and shamed I am of her” she put down the bowl of peas.  “Well, lass, we’re in a pretty pickle, run and get Father Anselm to ring the church bell and after get you to the woods and try to reach
Winchester
, the fyrd must be alerted!” With that she climbed to her feet and walked, calmly, towards the house, followed by Herluva.

             
Alodie ran after her.  “But Godgyth, I can’t leave, what about you and the rest of the villagers?”

             
Godgyth laughed, mirthlessly, then turning placed her hands on Alodie’s shoulders “We’ll hide, don’t fret yourself - now go.  The Vikings won’t want fat old women like me and Herluva but if they see you.......” 

             
Alodie opened her mouth to protest but Godgyth pointed to the gate “I said go, now!” she snapped.  Sighing Alodie picked up her skirts, ran out of the side gate and up the lane toward the priest’s house.

             
There was an air of apprehension over the whole village, an intangible mist of fear - no bird sang, no dog barked and no sheep bleated, it was as if a thick blanket had been placed over the whole area.

             
Turning the corner she almost collided with Edwin, his broad, usually placid face had an unaccustomed look of fear.  He grabbed her arm.  “Run and hide milady, Norsemen!” he gasped. 

             
“I know Edwin, I’ve told milady Godgyth, hundreds of ships”

             
A look of puzzlement crossed his face “Ships? Nay, I know nought of ships - this is a huge
land
army, rank upon rank of them.  The main force has settled in
Wareham
up the coast about ten miles but a goodly number are coming here, heading in from the north east.  Young Aldar the shepherd spotted them, he’s gone to tell the priest to ring the bell.”

             
Alodie put her hand to her forehead “There are also ships, I saw them, hundreds of them”

             
Edwin swallowed heavily and crossed himself  “Blessed Mary” he muttered “from the fury of the Northmen may the Good Lord deliver us poor wights!”

             
“Amen” whispered Alodie, crossing herself  in reply.

             
Suddenly the church bell rang out - it carried with it a note of alarm, never did the bell ring on any day but the Sabbath except for one reason.  All around the village people came out of their dwellings and in the fields mattocks and scythes were laid aside.  Alodie turned on her heel and dashed back to the stables.  Godgyth and Herluva were loading a cart with bundles and sacks, perched drunkenly on top of which was, almost comically, Godgyth’s spindle.  Alodie sighed.  “Gytha, for the love of God, you haven’t time to take the whole hall!  There’s a land army as well, get to the woods” she remonstrated.  Godgyth snorted.

             
“I’m not leaving a lifetime of possessions for no scurvy Danes to wreck, anyway what are you doing here?  You’re the only hope we have of contacting the fyrd.  Get you to
Winchester
- quickly!”

             
Alodie felt tears fill her eyes.  If only there was time to get Godgyth and Herluva to the shuttle but that part of the forest would be thick with Vikings by now.  Godgyth and Oswy had been like parents to her and apart from Emma she loved everyone in the village dearly.

             
Wiping her eyes hurriedly on her sleeve she climbed onto Doucette’s back.  She felt a hand on her arm, it was Herluva “God go wi ye milady” she whispered.

             
Alodie blinked back the tears which had sprung to her eyes.  “Just hide, PLEASE!” she said and slapping Doucette’s neck cantered out of the yard.  As she went through the gap in the hedge Godgyth’s words floated after her.

             
“Warn the fyrd, girl, the fyrd!”

******************

             
It was quiet and still in the forest, the clop thud of Doucette’s hooves as she hit stone and moss was somehow comforting.    She allowed Doucette to slow to a walk, and flicked up the blue stone on her bracelet.  She would contact Luke, any warning was better than none and, tampering with history or not, her family was in danger.  She laughed aloud at the irony, she had obviously been meant to warn Alfred and the fyrd anyway, it would be tampering with history
not
to tell them.  She pressed the button three times, there was a slight buzzing noise then static, she waited a few seconds then pressed again.  “Come on Owen, answer” she muttered - silence.  She was about to press again then reasoned he was probably with someone and it was impossible for him to answer.

“Damn it” she said to herself, then decided to head straight for the shuttle.  Once aboard she could be in
Winchester
within thirty seconds, she would explain the speed of her arrival somehow.

             
“Well, what ‘ave we ‘ere then?” Doucette neighed and plunged to a stop as a rough hand grabbed her reins.  With a sinking heart Alodie looked slowly at the owner of the hand, realising as she did so that the man had spoken Norse.   He was very tall, with dirty blond hair on top of which was perched a leather cap reinforced with iron.  For the rest he wore a short blue tunic which ended above the knee.  Round his waist was a leather belt, hanging from which was a sword.  He wore blue hose which were tucked into leather shoes and on his right arm was fastened a shield.  In his left hand he carried a huge war axe, stained with blood.  She then noticed that he was surrounded by twenty or thirty men all dressed similarly to, and as tall or taller than, her captor.  She had met the Vikings.

             
Alodie was able to make these observations because she suddenly felt  once again, curiously detached, as if this were not happening to her, as if she were an actress in a holofilm.  Any moment now she would wake up in her quarters on the
‘
Star
City
Colossus’
and it would all have been a dream.  “Well lads, and what do you think we ought to do with this” he continued, running his hands up and down her thigh and grinning, showing a row of dirty yellow teeth.

             
As she glanced at his filthy blood caked hand on her leg she snapped out of her reverie and felt for the security of her bracelet, surreptitiously flipping the top from her psi gun.  The Viking saw her action and grabbing her arm attempted to pull the bracelet from her wrist “Very pretty bracelet my darling” he leered “I’ll ‘ave that” he reached up and cupped her breast “..........and more besides!”

             
That was the last straw, with a strength which surprised both the Viking and herself, Alodie shook free his hand and smashed him across the face, at the same time urging Doucette into a run.

             
The mare floundered through the middle of the men, scattering them like ninepins.  Instinctively she turned the horse off the path toward the thickest part of the forest, the sound of pursuit crashing after her as she urged more speed from the terrified animal.  Then an arrow whistled past and the horse, without any urging, redoubled her pace.

             
Branches loomed up before Alodie’s eyes and she hung onto the reins, lying low against the mare’s neck.  She realised, to her dismay, that they were heading in the opposite direction to the shuttle, and decided, when the pursuit had died down, to swing around in a wide arc and double back.  The trouble was, she reminded herself, ninety percent of
England
was covered by trees and it was all too easy to get lost.

             
They plunged deeper and deeper into the forest, the thick moss luckily deadening the sound of the mare’s hooves.  On and on they galloped, Alodie content to give the mare her head, just needing to put as much space as possible between herself and the Vikings.

             
Suddenly the horse stopped, almost pitching Alodie over her ears.  It was so dark in this part of the forest that she could scarcely see.  Dismounting, she noted with relief that the sound of pursuit had faded somewhat.  The ground sloped gently down in front of her and she could hear the gurgle of swift running water below.  She turned back to the mare who was standing, flanks heaving and head down.  “Good girl Doucette, come on” she whispered into the horse’s ear “they won’t expect us to swim for it” tugging gently on the reins she coaxed the frightened beast into following her.

             
They slithered down the banking onto a small shelf of sand and screwing up her eyes Alodie peered into the gloom.  The river looked deep, very deep, with swift currents in the middle.  The tide was obviously going out and she would have to be very careful not to be caught in one and pulled down to the sea.

             
The branches of the thick trees on either bank almost met above the river and the bright morning had turned into a dull, dark, afternoon.  She could see barely thirty feet in front of her.

             
Taking a deep breath she walked into the water.  It was cold and pretty shallow at first, but within a few steps she was out of her depth.  However, as she waded into mid stream Alodie was relieved to find that the current was not as strong as she had first feared and she found both herself and the horse making pretty good progress toward the other bank.

             
Suddenly from somewhere in front of her she heard a whooshing sound, it passed overhead and connected with a thud beside her.  The horse screamed and kicked.  “Doucette!” she shrieked, splashing back to investigate.  What she discovered sent her heart into her boots.  An arrow was embedded in the mare’s back, the poor beast was in agony.

             
Alodie vaguely herd a voice say, in Norse  “A woman”, there was a splashing and glancing up she saw ten or eleven indeterminate shapes coming toward her from the opposite bank.  With a sinking heart Alodie realised she was surrounded, and Doucette’s screams, neighs and splashes were leading them straight to her.

             
“Where is she?” shouted one of the shapes.

             
“I heard ‘er a minute ago.  I think we’ve ‘it ‘er ‘orse, its splashing over ‘ere”

             
Alodie pulled out the knife she had packed in Doucette’s saddlebag.  “I’m so sorry darling” she whispered and lifting the horse’s head she plunged the dagger into her jugular vein, the horse quivered for a moment then was still.

             
Alodie felt her eyes fill with tears which flowed unchecked down her cheeks and became one with the river and the thick red blood.  Releasing the horse’s head she swam away.  Suddenly a shape loomed up next to her in the gloom and a hand grabbed her shoulder.

             
“Here she is!” he called “I have her, I can’t see much in this light but I think she’s young”

The first thing Alodie noticed when she regained consciousness was that it was raining, the dark afternoon had indeed turned into a dull and rainy evening, the second thing was that her bracelet had gone and the third thing was the smell of cooking meat.

She lay still for a few moments trying to get her bearings, aware that she was wet and cold with an abominable headache.  She put her hand to her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying her best to remember what had happened.  She recalled putting up a good fight in the river, knocking out two men and disarming a third – good old pilot training school!

Eventually though, she had been overpowered and dragged, screaming, to the far bank of the river.  She thought someone must have hit her over the head then because the last thing she remembered was the man she had disarmed saying “Quieten her. Leif”

Alodie sat up and gingerly opened one eye.  Leif had certainly ‘quietened’ her alright – she had a bump on her head  the size of an egg.  She opened the other eye and looked around, she seemed to be on the edge of a clearing, a few yards away flickered a camp fire, roasting over which were chunks of meat on a spit.  Round the flames were about twenty men and every so often one of them would prod the meat with his knife.

“Another few minutes and it’ll be done” announced one, it was the man who had told Leif to ‘quieten’ her, she recognised the voice.  He was big and ugly, aged perhaps thirty with red hair and also, more importantly, he was wearing her bracelet.

“I’ll be glad when it is, Thorkil, I’m clemmed” interjected another.  It was then that Alodie noticed what they were eating, Doucette’s severed head lay a few feet away, her eyes staring dumbly.  Alodie gagged and felt vomit rise in her throat.  At the sound one of the men looked round and laughed.

“Aye up Thorkil, your valkyrie is awake!”

As one they turned to look at her, Alodie shuffled backward, further into the shadow of the tree under which she had been lying.

“What’ll we do with her now?” asked one of the men, a black bearded fellow with a big beer gut.  There was a general shout of laughter.

“Guess!” laughed Thorkil, unfastening his belt.  The dark man placed his hand on Thorkil’s arm.

“Look, I told you, she’s a ‘igh born by her dress and riding that ‘oss – don’t you think we should take her to Herger?”

Thorkil walked over to her and pulled her roughly to her feet.  Grinning, he took her chin in his hand and moved her head from side to side.  After a few seconds he turned.  “After” he leered.  “Ain’t she a treat to the eyes though?  ‘Ave you ever before seen a woman lookin’ like her?  She’s Freyja come to life I tell yer”

The dark man came up behind him and nodded “Aye, Thorkil, and for that reason I think we should give her to Herger, untouched, for ransom.  She’s probably an ‘eadman’s daughter or wife or sister.  Why, she could even be King Alfred’s wife, she’s supposed to be beautiful ‘ent she?”

Thorkil paused and thoughtfully picked a tooth with a stripped twig.  Alodie took a deep breath and glanced from one to the other, she was past fear and verging on terror.  She had never felt so helpless in her life.

Thorkil removed at the twig from his mouth, examined the contents, and licked it clean.  “Leif” he said “you’re a crawler, and stupid with it.  Look, do you think Herger’s bothered about ransom from some local headman when he’s probably got possession of the bastard’s village?  And as for this being Queen Aehlswith, wot in Thor’s name would King Alfred be doing letting his wife wander about in the forest, unattended, with a Viking attack imminent?  Talk sense.  Anyway we’ve got
Wessex
now, or as good as, what use could she possibly be to Herger?”

The men dissolved into lewd laughter at this remark, it was lost, however, on big Leif, who shrugged “an ‘ostage then?” he said.  This was greeted by hoots of derision, and Thorkil threw up his hands in exasperation.

“Leif, how in Thor’s name have you managed to father three brats?  Look, you can go second, and if you’re so afraid of the mighty Herger we’ll give her to him after” he turned back to Alodie “now give us a kiss, pet”

Alodie took a deep breath and closed her eyes, this was going to be dreadful, please dear God let something happen to stop it.  She felt Thorkil’s rough hands on her shoulders and his halitosis as he breathed on her.  Suddenly her prayer seemed to be answered with a commotion from the direction of the river.

She opened her eyes.  Thorkil and the other men were looking past her, turning, Alodie followed their gaze.  Seconds later a group of men, twenty or so, with dogs, crashed through the undergrowth into the clearing whilst the Vikings, taken off guard, sprang for their weapons.  With a sinking heart Alodie realised that she was out of the frying pan into the fire, these were the same Norsemen who had accosted her in the forest, earlier.

On seeing her, the leader grinned horribly and without a word, brushed past Thorkil and crouched in front of the fire, warming his hands.  “So” he said “I see you Norwegian ship rats have saved my little
Wessex
beauty for me” he wiped his hands down the side of his jerkin and walked over to Alodie, who shrank further back against the tree.  Thorkil spun him round by a hand on the shoulder.

“..........not so fast, ugly.  Who in Middle Earth are you?” The man looked round almost nonchalantly and shrugged Thorkil off.

“My name is Harald Snorrison from Aggersborg in
Jutland
and my men and I are with the land forces of Guthrum”

“an’ what right do you think you have to milady here?” asked Thorkil, his voice dripping icicles.  Harald turned his face toward the Norwegian, the firelight lit an ugly gash which ran from his forehead to his chin.

“We met earlier, and she gave me this for my pains!”

Alodie glanced down at the hand with which she had smashed the Viking across the face, she had been wearing a large ring, given to her by Godgyth, and sure enough it was encrusted with blood.

Thorkil guffawed.  “She kicked one of my lads in the bollocks so hard I misdoubt he’ll be any use to a single Saxon maid this campaign, knocked  poor old Thorsen over there and Erik the young out cold and disarmed me”

Harald shrugged.  “Yes, well, we saw her first”

Thorkil lifted his axe “....and finders keepers Harald”

Silence descended upon the company as swords were drawn and axes hafted.  Harald laughed and leaned forward, almost touching Thorkil.  “The next woman you kiss will be in the halls of Asgard you Norwegian scum!” he hissed.

“Anytime, you Danish bastard!” replied  Thorkil.

With that, the two men began to circle each other, Harald crooning to himself.  Thorkil grinned at this and began to swing his axe, whilst Harald began to throw his weapon from hand to hand, the moonlight and firelight alternately flashed on the blades, turning them from an eerie silver to a deadly red, and as one the rest of the assembly moved to the edge of the trees.

The whole scene reminded Alodie of a painting she had once seen of Dante’s Inferno, the two protagonists looking for all the world like evil demons about to do battle for a soul.

Silence fell, Harald’s crooning being the only sound.  Even  the nightjars, earlier in full voice after the downpour, had stopped their chirruping.  Glancing round, Alodie realised that the assembly were so intent on watching the fight that they had stopped watching her.  Gingerly, she took a step back into the darkness of the trees, no one seemed to notice, she took another, then pulling her damp hood over her hair she turned and scurried towards the river.

Back in the clearing Leif was worried, he knew this was wrong, the forces of
Denmark
and
Norway
should be united in an attempt to crush
Wessex
; weren’t they all brothers after all?  They needed warriors like Thorkil and Harald, they should not be fighting each other like this.  Taking a deep breath, he stepped between them.  Both axes stopped spinning.  Leif held up his hands “Nay lads, nay lads” he said slowly “we need every man to defeat the
Wessex
fyrd, do not fight over a mere wench”

Thorkil hafted his axe “Move out of the way Leif, ‘a mere wench’ you say – are you mad?  Have you not seen her?”  He gestured to the tree under which Alodie had been sheltering, then dropped his axe with a clatter “Loki’s balls” he  yelled “couldn’t any of you
nithings
have kept an eye on her?  She’s run fer it!”

******************************

Alodie had reached the edge of the river, limping slightly after almost breaking her ankle on a tree root.  She had no idea where she was going but realised she would have to head north in order to get to
Winchester
.  Vainly she scanned the sky for the North Star – Polaris – she had once been to a very boring diplomatic function on a planet orbiting Polaris.  Shaking her head at the recollection she looked again, ah, there it was.  Glancing up stream she noticed that the bank jutted out, narrowing the river a couple of hundred yards away and she decided to attempt a crossing.

Grimacing, she waded into the river and faced upstream, the tide was still going out and the current was stronger now, until it turned it was going to be very difficult to make any headway.

She froze and listened – dammit – dogs.  Drawing up her skirts she began to wade up the river, keeping to the shallows -  the water varied in depth between her calves and her thighs and these damned long skirts were a nuisance, she would have cut them off above the knee but they had taken her knife from her.

Gritting her teeth against the cold she pushed off into the middle of the river, feeling slightly sorry for the Vikings, for such a famous race of warriors they had been very easily fooled.  The water here was not quite deep enough to swim comfortably and she put her foot down in order to give herself a better push off but the stone on which she placed her foot was a particularly slimy one and she slipped and went under the water with a loud splash.  When she surfaced she realised, to her horror, that she was caught in a very strong tidal current and was being whirled backwards towards the sea, towards the Vikings.  She would have to try to swim out of it.

Taking a deep breath she ducked under the water but the trees on either side of the river bank extended roots for quite a distance into mid channel and it was Alodie’s misfortune that her long skirts snagged on an underwater branch.

She made a useless attempt to pull away, but her efforts were in vain, her skirt was wrapped around the branch and it seemed impossible to untangle it.  The water filled her mouth, her nose, her ears, her limbs froze, she was helpless, she was going to die – God, what a terrible way to go.  She couldn’t rise to the surface, she was well and truly trapped underwater.  She tried to stem the rising tide of panic but her lungs were on fire.  She should have planned her escape better, she should not have acted on impulse – oh Lord, even the Vikings would be welcome now!

Her lungs felt ready to burst, still she worked feverishly to free her skirt, frantic with fear she clawed at the material but the stuff was strong, it wouldn’t tear.  She could not give up – she couldn’t, it surely was not her destiny to drown in this Godforsaken place!

She
would not
die here! She was too young for the grave, too alive to become a bloated corpse, why, she was still a virgin!  Spots began dancing across her eyes, she could not hold her breath for much longer, finally she swallowed water.

She stopped struggling, an odd lethargy overcame her and she began to drift slowly with the current.  She realised that death was but seconds away and at the last her fear left her and she almost welcomed it.

She became vaguely aware of a man’s body bumping against her and she heard a curse as he grabbed her round the waist with one hand whilst with the other brandished a knife and with one swipe freed her.  She was dragged roughly to the surface and opening her eyes she was greeted by a grinning Thorkil.   Treading water he turned her away from him and slipped his hands under her arms, then began to kick for the shore, after a few kicks they were back on dry land.

Alodie was thrown roughly to the ground where she immediately vomited up the river water she had swallowed, and, after taking several gulping breaths, she felt the pain in her chest begin to ebb.  “Come on my water baby” said Thorkil.  “I think we’ll take you back to Bredond, we’ve decided, Harald and me, to hold a little auction.  We should make enough out of you to set us up for months, years mebbe, when you’ve dried out a bit”.  With that, he pulled her to her feet and fastening her hands behind her back, threw her roughly over a horse and took her back to Bredond.

***************************

It was a nightmare, she repeated for the second time, it was not happening.

She had been pushed into the hut of Hyld the bawd where, for a few pence and an hour’s respite, Hyld had been glad to prepare Alodie as the Vikings had directed.

First, her hair had been brushed until it shone like molten gold then piled loosely on top of her head.  After that she had been dressed in a lace up shift and Hyld had nipped her cheeks until they glowed painfully “There ain’t much else a body can do to make you more fair milady” she said kindly, then, hearing the sound of gruff voices returning, she quickly handed Alodie a cloak and a pot of green ointment.  “T’will take a lot of the pain off first time dear” she muttered, patting Alodie’s cheek.  Alodie just had time to thank her and
secrete it
before the door flew open.  It was Thorkil, looking even uglier than before.