Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (75 page)

             
Keeping almost on the
Arctic Circle
she flew across the northern coast of
Iceland
, spotting the tiny shapes of fishing boats beneath her like insects on a pane of blue glass and settled down for the last one thousand three hundred or so mile hop to
Norway
.

             
There were several boats below her and she wondered if, perhaps, her children were on any of them.    The main thing, she decided, was going to have to be to get to Segensfjord and take control before the ship carrying Nerissa and Tom arrived.

             
What sort of people were the inhabitants of the village?  Probably terrified of Olaf but surely not to the point of killing innocent children in his absence.  Who ruled when he was not there anyway?  Whoever they were they would probably be thrilled to discover Olaf was no more.

             
A tiny ship below took her attention and quickly she cloaked and dropped down - it looked like a trading
knarr
, yes, she could see the bales of skins piled up on the decks.  An old man, shivering and wrapped in furs, glanced up curiously as he heard the whoosh of her engines but apart from that no one seemed to notice anything.

             
Glancing at her chart she turned south, switched back to automatic and concentrated on the view beneath her.

             
The country seemed to be dotted with thick pine forests and mountains with the deep inlets from the sea - fjords, making up almost all the coastline.  From here it looked very beautiful and very inhospitable.  The Norwegian coastline, she noticed, was very convoluted with hundreds of tiny islands between the mouths of the fjords and the sea, leaving most settlements several miles inland.

             
Alodie decided to land the shuttle, uncloaked, in the middle of Segensfjord and do her goddess Freyja imitation again - it had worked wonderfully well in Winchester - then she would sort out the wheat from the chaff, imprison the ‘baddies’, release her father and await the arrival of the ship carrying the children.

             
It all seemed so simple, so cut and dried.  But supposing the people of Segensfjord did not bow to her will, suppose she injured some of them, not only would she be disobeying the First Rule but she would be replacing the tyranny of Olaf the Black with one of her own, however well meant, and how on Earth could she explain to Herger, when he did eventually arrive, how she had managed to take, single handed, a Viking fortress and one which had never been  taken before to boot?  Could she possibly explain everything to him?  Impossible, their life would never be the same again.  It was a no win situation, she would have to take each moment as it came.

             
The craft reduced its speed to just over
100 mph
and swooped low over the fjord.  The mountains looming high on each side of her formed a narrow valley through which the waters flowed to the sea, whilst a mist curling up from the rocky sides of the slopes made the fjord look like a river of smoke.

             
She went down lower, almost skimming the surface of the water, glanced at the distance to target, noting she had another four miles to go, and then at the terrain following radar without which the shuttle could crash into obstructions in the dark or fog,   it read clear.  The fog became thicker and she was driving blind, the grey swirling vapour clouding the view screen like a thick blanket.

             
Alodie bit her lip nervously.  It might be best after all if she landed outside the actual settlement itself and went in to ask for work.  She was anxious, undecided, not wanting to commit herself and her twenty fifth century technology if it could possibly be avoided, she reached out for the manual control.

             
It was then that it happened.  For some reason, perhaps being left uncloaked in
Jamaica
, a tiny circuit in the terrain following equipment had burned out.  There was an outcrop of rock, razor sharp, sticking out of the water to a height of nine feet, the ship was flying at a height of six feet.

             
As Alodie reached for the control she was hurtled forward as the rock sliced through the bottom of the shuttle, catapulting it through 180 degrees and ripping a huge gash along the underside.  She screamed as she was thrown against the ceiling then bounced around as the shuttle hit the water.  For a second the craft was buoyed along, then it fell to one side and as it did so the water began to at first seep, then pour through the gash.

             
Alodie fought down the rising panic which began to clutch at her vitals as the shuttle began to sink.  Within seconds the icy water swirled around her waist.  She took a deep breath, and ducking, fumbled for the cockpit hatch, it would not budge.

             
She resurfaced, the water now up to her neck, and trod water for a few seconds.  “Idiot!” she said aloud.  She had forgotten her elementary physics, there was no way the hatch would open until the pressure inside the shuttle was equal to the pressure outside and that would not happen until the cabin was almost full of water.

             
With a shudder, the shuttle stopped its descent, the bottom grating on rock with a squeal that set Alodie’s teeth on edge.  Gingerly, she dived down again and tried to open the hatch, again it would not budge.  An icy hand of fear clutched at her as she realised that the shuttle was resting sideways with the hatch trapped against the side of the fjord.  She resurfaced, noting that the water was still flooding in to the left hand side of the shuttle, leaving a gap of perhaps four inches between herself and the ceiling.

             
What a way to die - drowning like a rat in a bucket.  She thought of Herger,  her father, the children.  The water lapped against her chin, making her cough - no, she would not give in like this..... then it hit her - the cargo bay doors!  Of course!  They were on the bottom of the craft which was now directly opposite her.  Taking a deep breath she dived, flailing around blindly.  As she kicked out she became entangled in something black which wrapped itself round her face - Olaf’s braeis - was he reaching out from beyond the grave to haunt her?  She pushed them away and groped with her hands along the tear, it was too narrow for her to wriggle through and stopped about a metre short of the cargo bay doors.  She was running out of oxygen.  Praying there was enough air for a last lung full she kicked upward hitting her foot as she did so on a cylindrical metal box which seemed to have bubbles flowing out of it.  Paying it no mind she fought her way upward, discovering that there was now only a tiny gap between her head and the top of the craft.  She lay on her back and took a gulp of air.  It was not enough, she was going to die.  She floated almost serenely downward.  Strangely, she was not afraid now at the last.  She noticed idly that the equipment which had not been fastened down was floating around, Olaf’s clothing, the anti grav belt.  She reached out almost lazily and wrapped it round her wrist.  That box was there again, the one with the bubbles coming out of it, it looked very pretty.  It was strange but the water was remarkably clear. The box bumped her nose and she took hold of it, reading it absent mindedly.  ‘Oxypills’
“OXYPILLS” - Jesus!!!  
With fumbling hands she unlatched the lid, grabbing at the tablets as they drifted upward.  The water had melted most of them but she managed to grab one and pushed it into her mouth.

             
Almost instantly she felt her body flood with oxygen.  How could she have been so stupid?   Oxypills were standard issue on shuttles, they did away with bulky environmental suits on places where the atmosphere was not breathable but not exactly poisonous.

             
Quickly, she slid back the bar which manually held the bay doors closed and prayed the pressure had equalised.  With infinite, aching slowness the doors opened.  As they did so Alodie swum out with them, realising to her dismay that the tiny fragment of oxypill she had managed to ingest was not going to last very long, seconds more probably, half a minute at the most.

             
She felt a movement behind her and turned, the shuttle had come to rest on a narrow ledge - in swimming out she had overbalanced it and as she looked, wasting precious seconds, it rolled ponderously, then with gathering speed, down the ravine-like sides of the fjord.

             
Alodie watched, hypnotised, as her only link, her only real lifeline, disappeared into the dark depths then, self preservation taking over, she kicked out and began her ascent.

             
Although the shuttle’s descent had only seemed to take seconds Alodie realised, by the darkness of the water, that she was probably at least
100 feet
or so down.  The sides of the ravine seemed to be strewn with boulders and were completely sheer, gouged out long before by glaciers.

             
A small fish swam by her, not as colourful as the ones in
Jamaica
, a grey drab little thing vigorously pursued by a larger one with snapping jaws, Alodie felt herself hoping fervently that the little one would escape.

             
After what seemed an eternity the water became lighter and looking up she saw with relief that she was within a couple of metres of the surface.  Not before time, the breathing space the oxypill had bought her had at last run out and she again felt her lungs begin to crave for life giving oxygen.

             
Tiredly, she pushed herself toward the surface, straining with every sinew -  she burst into the light, drawing deep lungfuls of the foggy evening air in great whoops.

             
Treading water for a second, she attempted to get her bearings.  The shore was to her right, although whether there was a place to climb out by or sheer black cliffs leading down to the water she had no idea.  Wearily trusting to fate she struck out for the shore.

             
Minutes passed, a dark shape loomed up in front of her - a cliff?  She stretched out her hand - wood - a man made structure, perhaps the supports of some kind of jetty.  With a gasp of relief she clung to the wooden struts then, after regaining her breath, gingerly reached up, pulling herself out of the water, and flopped like a stranded fish on top of the jetty.

             
What to do?  The cold bit through her like a knife and her teeth were chattering so badly her jaw ached.  She would have to get warmth and quickly.  Glancing dully at her hand, she noticed that the anti-grav belt was still wrapped round her wrist and climbing shakily to her feet she fastened it on, hoping that it had re-charged in
Jamaica
with the sun streaming into the cockpit of the shuttle.  She ran her finger over the plexi bump on the front of the belt and sighed with relief as, with a whirr, it lifted her into the air.

             
The fog had begun to disperse and she was able to see clearly enough to follow the path from the jetty until she came to a small group of huts.  Night was beginning to fall and the sound of conversation mingled with the warm smell of cooking drifted through the windows.

             
Alodie decided to throw herself on the mercy of the villagers, there was precious little else she could do, she felt sick from the water she had swallowed, dizzy from the blow to her head which she had not noticed at the time but which was now bleeding, and hungry and cold.

             
She lowered herself gently to the ground and knocked on the nearest door.  As she did so her legs gave way, a great wave of darkness seemed to overcome her and she knew no more.

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

             
There was something hard and smelly next to her cheek and, opening her eyes with difficulty, Alodie looked around.  She was covered with a filthy sack, lying on a makeshift bed of planks, and seemed to be in a long low room with rafters running the length of the cobwebbed slated roof from which hung what looked like cooked hams and joints of bacon.  Leaning drunkenly against the walls on both sides were sacks, some empty, some full, the windows were covered with slatted boards, and there was a coil of rope in one corner and a wooden handled spade in another.

             
Grimacing with distaste she pushed herself into a sitting position, wondering where she was.  Her boiler suit was cold, damp and sticking to her, so whoever had found her had just thrown her in here wet.  As if on cue she sneezed, then, remembering Herger’s bracelet, she patted the pockets of her boiler suit.  It was still there, however, her own bracelet was not, nor was the anti grav belt.

             
Puzzled and disoriented she climbed off the bed and looked round.  By the look of things the place was obviously a storage hut of some kind.  Shivering with cold she walked over to the door, only to discover that it was locked from the outside.

             
Making her way over to the windows she tried to peep through the slats, however it was now full night and the only thing she could see were stars and the indeterminate bulk of a large building about half a mile away on top of a steep hill.

             
Turning she sighed - out of the frying pan into the fire once again.  Actually a fire would be a godsend, dare she start one?  There were plenty of dry makings but - no, it would probably get out of control.  Someone was sure to come soon anyway.  Just then her stomach gave a disconcerting rumble.