Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (81 page)

Bjarnie grabbed him by the throat.  “You’ve shed her blood though scum haven’t you!” he snarled through clenched teeth.

“Freyja’s dugs man, you act as if you care for ‘er” stammered the by now terrified rapist.

Bjarnie hurled him to the floor again and kicked him solidly in the stomach, the man gave a bubbling scream.  With a cold smile on his face the red haired man bent down, grabbed the front of his jerkin and dragged him to his feet again “considering that she’s my wife and the baby’s my daughter I think you could say  I do.  Give my regards to the inhabitants of Hel’s Pit you stinking little slug!” he whispered.

With a shriek the man put his hands over his head “G – give me my sword for Thor’s sake” he stammered “give me a chance to enter
Valhalla
!”

Bjarnie paused for a moment and reached for the man’s sword then out of the corner of his eye he saw Anstice, saw the blood like a snail’s trail along the deck, saw her shivering with fear and holding their baby close to her breast.  He looked back at the man and shook his head. “No” he said simply and with an almost clinical  sweep of his sword he split the man from throat to groin then stepped aside as, with a gurgle, his life’s blood gushed from the gaping wound to join that of Anstice.

Bjarnie turned.  His wife was staring at him, her eyes wide as saucers.  He then realised that she had never seen this side of him, the piratical, slaying side, she needed comfort, needed to be reassured and now was not the time.  “Give me Nerissa” he whispered.  Numbly, she handed the sleeping child to him.  The little girl cried out softly in her sleep and her tiny hands grasped his jerkin.  “Come my love, to the other ship, now, round the back of the men, quietly” he said gently, speaking in Saxon.

Sword in one hand, Nerissa in the other and with Anstice carrying the baby Bjarnie crept round the back of Harald’s men to the gangplank.  Harald himself was on the ground clutching his thigh and groaning whilst little Tom glared stony faced at him.  Bjarnie hustled Anstice and the children quickly onto the
Freyja
and saw them safely bestowed in the small tent near the prow then, kissing them all gently, he slipped quickly out and went back to join his lord.

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

Herger turned as Bjarnie appeared by his side.  “Are they alright?” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Anstice, little Alodie and Nerissa are all safe aboard the
Freyja
, there is no one else from Hergersby aboard.”

Herger nodded, it was time.  He glanced down and saw Bjarnie’s dripping sword, then looked up.  His men were staring in his direction.  He nodded again then pushed forward.

Harald had climbed to his feet and was advancing toward Tom who had again backed up against the mast, the dagger clutched in his pudgy little hands, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

“Right, yer little bastard!” snarled Harald. “You’ve let my blood, its about time I let yours.....”

Within two strides Herger was at his son’s side.  He lifted the child in his arms  “Brave lad” he said “this game is over for you.  You see that ship over there with the little tent on it?” the child nodded. “Well Anstice, the baby  and your sister are in there, go to them Tom”

He placed the little boy back on the floor and patted his backside.  Puzzled, the child looked back then pointed at Harald.   “Bad” he lisped.

Herger nodded.  “I know
,
my son
,
and he will be punished – now go”

Grinning broadly on recognising his father Tom handed him the dagger, nodded and toddled toward the
Freyja.

Puzzled silence descended and Harald looked up in disbelief, then gripped his sword and spat on the deck.  “’Old ‘ard a minute cripple!” he snapped, hobbling toward Herger.  “Since when ‘ave you bin givin’ the orders?  Olaf put  me in charge of this little expedition”

Erik laughed hollowly.  Harald turned and looked at him, the fact that things were not as they had at first seemed finally filtering through to his benumbed brain.  “Olaf’s an even bigger fool than I first took him for then” said Herger slowly.  “Where was your look out?  We crept up next to you unnoticed”

Harald gripped his sword.  “Now look ‘ere” he blustered.  “I might ‘ave a flesh wound from Herger’s pup but I’m still able to put an end to a cripple with an ‘unched shoulder” he drew back his arm, and rushed toward Herger.

To his surprise, the ‘cripple’ spun out of the way and Harald went dashing harmlessly past.  With a curse he turned to face him again and then his heart almost stopped in fear.  The ‘cripple’ was gone and there, drawn up to his full magnificent height, clad in his habitual black, bare chested but for a sleeveless jerkin and a battle
hlad
fastened around his forehead was Herger the sea-king.  He held out his right hand and his ‘captain’ Erik, handed him a huge silver chased sword.

Herger smiled, wolfishly.  “Prepare to die, Harald” he hissed, and with a speed which looked impossible for a man of his height, Herger sprang into the air and landed on the balls of his feet, a foot away from the by now terrified Harald.

Gulping, Harald drew back his arm and with a yell slashed toward Herger’s face.  The taller man’s sword arm shot up and with a bone jarring scream of metal their blades met.

It was a foregone conclusion.  Harald pushed against Herger’s sword with all his considerable strength but with an almost negligent gesture Herger pushed against him and Harald’s sword arm was pushed back.

Then, with acrobatic ease, Herger twisted under him and elbowed him sharply in the stomach then hurled him bodily over his head.  The hapless pirate bounced against the mast with a bone crunching crash and landed at an odd angle, groaning and sobbing.

Herger walked slowly over to him then, pushing the point of his sword under Harald’s chin he lifted the terrified man’s face. “I apologise Harald” he said evenly.  “I thought you were some kind of warrior.  If I had known just what a fighter you actually were I would have let my baby son finish you off.  Now tell me, just how many of my people did you kill?”

A small trickle of blood began to run down Herger’s sword, the man gulped.  “None! I – I killed only a fat old hag, a cook, she was in the kitchen”

“Maudya, oh no” whispered Herger.

The silence on the ship was absolute, the boat rocked on the swell and even at this distance the sound of waves slapping against Odin’s Twins was audible.

Suddenly the quiet was broken by the almost unanimous hiss of swords being drawn. He glanced up, Harald’s men were preparing for battle, then came the answering hiss from his own men.  Herger held up his hand and, such was his aura of power, both sets of men paused.  “The men I left in charge of Hergersby were not
nithings
Harald, nor would they run away.  How many did you kill?”

Harald shook his head.  “I swear Lord Herger, I have no idea”

Herger plucked his bottom lip.  “Harald” he said quietly. “You are going to die, now you can either die quickly, cleanly, with a sword in your hand or slowly and in agony.    You have sacked my village, killed my man Sigurd’s mother, a woman who was a dear friend to me, that much I do know.  What I do not know is how many other villagers you slayed”

Harald breathed deeply.  “I – I was the one that killed the cook, we did not want a fight, so we just walked into the hall,  our orders were to get the brats, nothing else.  There were four men at arms in the hall, three greybeards and a young lad - they – they were killed.   We did not bother the villagers at all, they were sound asleep in their cottages”

Herger groaned.  Three old fighters over fifty years old and a young lad not turned fifteen.  They all had kin on the
Freyja
.  “No women raped”.

Harald shook his head.  “Save that – that one over there” he whispered.

“That has been taken care of” he snapped, then turned. “Sigurd” he shouted, “come here”, shrugging the warrior walked over to him and Herger put his hand on his shoulder. “Right my friend” he continued. “I am sorry, this scum has killed your mother – I leave him to you.  As for the rest of you flea bags, prepare to enter
Valhalla
!”

For a second silence descended, then, with a scream of
“Tur Ai!”
  from both sides – the horrific clash of battled filled the air.

Herger’s men were slightly outnumbered but more than made up for it in their courage and battle experience.  Thorund the Berserker, naked and screaming like a banshee, ran on board from the
Freyja
and dispatched at least ten within the first minute until he was laid low by a swinging cut and collapsed, blood gushing from his neck, on top of Tostig.

Herger himself, his back to the mast, slashing right and left, despatched five and his men did the rest.  The cacophony was deafening.  Swords and axes thudding against wooden shields, the sickening hiss and thunk as blades sliced off arms, heads, legs.  The screams of the dying, the stench of blood.  Herger hoped Anstice and the children were safe in the other ship, perhaps he should have left someone guarding them.  He beckoned to Bjarnie who came running over, sword and  axe both dripping with gore.  “Anstice and the bairns” he said “go see for them.  I would not put it past one of these bastards to sneak aboard the
Freyja
and finish them”. Bjarnie went white under his tan then nodded and quickly ran over to the other ship.

“Die Raven!” hissed a voice in his ear. Spinning on his heel, Herger slashed his sword arm up and backward.  The head of Toki, Harald’s comrade from the ordure pit, tumbled with a sickening thud down onto the deck and his headless corpse, blood spurting from his severed neck in a fountain, collapsed at his feet.

Slowly, the battle subsided.  Herger’s men began to look round for someone to fight and, when the last of Olaf’s men had been slaughtered and the roll called of the
Freyja’s
crew, Herger again held up his hand for silence. “Valiant warriors” he said “You have fought well.  You have killed five and forty of Olaf’s filthy crew for the loss of two of our men, who will even now be entering the doors of
Valhalla
.  We will remember Thorund the berserker and Thorssen the young with pride, now we must throw the dead overboard, although it sickens me to pollute the fair waters of the
North Sea
with such filth, swill the decks, and head for Seinshaven with both ships.  There is no time to wait for Magnus the giant’s men.  We will take a few hours to re-provision then, with this ship in the lead and the
Freyja
following after, we will sail round to Segensfjord.  With luck we will catch them unprepared and, if their men are of the mettle we see here on the ship, and I doubt not that these are the cream of Olaf’s mercenaries....” this was greeted with hoots of derision.  “I misdoubt that the battle will be hard fought, now let’s to work”

Alodie grimaced as the bitter bile flooded into her mouth.  They had been in the cell twelve days now with nothing to eat and just sips of water to drink. Alodie knew that if it had not been for autodoc Jake would have been dead, as it was they were reasonably healthy, just incredibly weak.  Emma came down daily to taunt them through the door hatch.  Apparently when Burgin had regained consciousness she had brought him down to the cell and showed him, through the grille, that the sorceress who had laid him low was no match for her magic and she had set herself up as a queen, with Burgin and his men as her bodyguard.

             
Therefore when, two days after Alodie arrived, the villagers, armed with billhooks and scythes, had come to the castle demanding retribution, they had been met by Emma herself, hovering above them, flanked by her men, who informed them that the sorceress whose petty magic had blown a little hole in the castle gate was now incarcerated, awaiting death, and everything was as before except that Olaf was dead and she was in charge.  Taxation would be increased and the penalty for breach of any of the rules would not change – death.

Grumbling, the villagers had turned had headed back toward the village, they thought old Grimm’s version of events had been too good to be true and now it seemed that they were out of Olaf’s frying pan into Emma’s fire, they should never have listened to the mumbling old dotard.

Alodie looked up.  Her father was looking very old today, his grey hair plastered to his head with dirt and his filthy beard reaching his chest.  How old was he?  He was thirty when Alodie was born and she was – God, how old?  Twenty one in biological age but in actual years twenty five – Jake had been here
ten years
and he had set off the year she had disappeared – he was sixty – time travel was nothing if not complicated, still, back in 2430 (or was it 2431) sixty was only just entering middle age.

She prodded his foot with hers and he looked up.  “Dad” she said “we are going to have to get out of here, the boat carrying my children will arrive any time and Emma will have them killed, have you any brilliant ideas?”

Jake shook his head.  “D’you think she’d fall for one or both of us collapsing and one of us jumping her when she came in?”

It was Alodie’s turn to shake her head.  “Dad, you’ve been watching too many old holos”.

He smiled, mirthlessly.  “But Emma’s never seen any old holos.  I think it’s worth a try, but whatever we do decide to do, we’ll have to do a good job, and we’ll have to deal with her manually, we daren’t risk using a psi gun anywhere near here”

“....and we’re not exactly at the peak of our health and strength either are we?” interjected Alodie.  “Do you think Emma would be stupid enough to come in alone?”

“No, I don’t, would you?”

They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming briskly down the corridor and the hatch sliding open.  Alodie and Jake hurled themselves to the floor.

“Oh Alodie! Jake!” came Emma’s silken tones.  “I just thought I would let you know that Olaf’s ship has been sighted entering the fjord, and as Olaf is not there to greet it.....!   Oh! the pains of motherhood!  Do you know I am almost tempted to let you both out so you can witness the little ones’ deaths.  Do you think they’ll call for “mamma” as the knife goes in?”

There was silence, Alodie dug her nails into her palms, sweat springing from her brow, she would give ten years of her life to have a clear swing at the bitch.  Surreptitiously Jake squeezed her hand. 

“Alodie” came the voice from the door, a sharp edge beginning to creep into her tone. “Alodie, don’t pretend to be asleep, I know you can hear me – its dying time for your babies Alodie – I am about to have my sweet revenge!  Get up of the floor you bitch!”

That’s right Emma
she thought
rub it in, it is inconceivable that any mother could listen to that without reacting isn’t it?  Just open the door and see what I have for you
.

There was silence for a moment then, to Alodie’s delight, the key screeched in the lock, and the door began to creak open.   Footsteps approached them, cautiously.  Alodie felt her wrist being lifted and her bracelet being loosened, then removed.

“Thank you Emma!” she snapped and leaping to her feet like a cat she swung round.  He fist connected with Emma’s chin with a sound like a pistol shot and the woman careered into the wall, her head hitting the stone with a dull thud. Alodie laughed almost hysterically as Emma slid down the wall, unconscious.  Walking over, she picked up the woman’s wrist and felt for her pulse, it was there, healthily beating, drat it.

“Have you killed her?” asked Jake.

Alodie retrieved her bracelet and slipped it on.  “Unfortunately no” she said “she’ll have one hell of a headache though” she rubbed her knuckles,  “God, I can’t remember enjoying anything more”

“You always were a warlike little bitch!” he laughed, then gestured to the door.  “Shall we?”

“I thought you’d never ask” she replied and walked through the open door with Jake following on her heels.  At the door, she turned. “Sweet dreams Emma my dear” she snarled and locking the door dropped the keys on the floor.  “Right Dad, we’d better make best speed for the jetty.  I don’t think for a minute they will kill the children out of hand, I am sure Emma has given instructions she is to be present, but we daren’t  risk it.  Can you run?”

“I’ll try, pussycat” he said “but don’t wait for me, I’ve only just realised that I’m a grandpa, see to them”

Alodie tutted and taking her father’s hand they jog-trotted up the passage.
Thank God for Autodoc
thought Alodie, realising that if it had not been for their bracelets they would not, in their half starved condition, have been able to crawl up the passageway.

At length, after what seemed like hours, they arrived at the ladder leading to the trapdoor and climbing it, Jake puffing mightily, they reached the top, climbed through and slammed it shut behind them. 

“Lord” he groaned, gesturing to the stairway “I’d forgotten about those other steps, you go on Al, I’ll follow you in a minute, I’ll have to get my breath”

“Ssshh Dad” snapped Alodie, holding up her hand.  “I think we’re in for company.  Is your psi gun set to ‘stun’?  Mine’s useless”.

Jake nodded and backed against the wall.  The sound Alodie had heard, that of feet clattering on stone, was getting nearer.

In the distance, even through the thickness of the stone walls, they could hear the clash of steel.  Strange, who could be fighting?  No sooner had the thought entered her head than the first man rounded the corner, and she sank to her knees.

It was unbelievable.  The long red hair, the bare freckled arms, the height.  Even in his full face helmet he was unmistakable.  On seeing them he ran over and, raising his sword above his head, snarled at Alodie.  “Tell me stringy hair, the lady Alodie, we know that she is here, your men have told us – now lead me to her or by Odin’s beard I’ll separate your filthy head from your loathsome shoulders”.

Alodie climbed to her feet and then lifted her head. “The only thing you are going to do for me Bjarnie Svenson is lead me to my husband, my children, a hot bath and some food – in that order”.

The huge red headed Viking visibly shrank, the arm holding up his sword drooped and he dropped the weapon with a clatter.  “Thor’s hammer, Lady Alodie, can it be you?”

Alodie sighed and ran her fingers through her, yes, she had to admit it, filthy stringy hair, and nodded.  “I’m afraid so, Bjarnie and this...” she gestured at the breathless figure next to her  “is Jake Austen, my father.  Disarm the psi gun Dad, these are the good guys” she finished in English.

Bjarnie reached out and grasped Jake’s forearm in the usual Viking greeting then screwed up his nose and sniffed pointedly.  “I’ll agree with you about the bath milady but as for Herger, he is still fighting the guard – it shouldn’t be long now, they are almost overcome but there is a pocket  of men still loyal to Olaf, although rumour has it that he is dead”

“Bjarnie, please take us to him, now” she said.  The Viking nodded and led Alodie and Jake up the stair.  “Are Tom, Nerissa and little Alodie safe?” she asked, her heart in her mouth.  Bjarnie grinned.

“Aye, safe and sound with their grandmother in Seinshaven.  I have never seen a woman so delighted in my life, lest it was my mother on seeing  Alodie, she had them eating bread with honey and sweet milk and tucked up in bed within half an hour of our arrival”  He hefted his sword, getting a better grip. “Herger ambushed Olaf’s ship of course, and rescued them” he added, almost as an afterthought, as he led them into the hallway.  Here the noise of battle sounded very much closer and Alodie, heart beating rapidly, ran ahead toward the far door.

He was standing at the bottom of the steps, hands on hips, surveying the final stages of the battle, clad in his long black cloak, head covered with his silver helmet, his long dark curly hair as usual escaping the helmet’s confines and spilling onto his shoulders.

For a second Alodie’s heart almost stopped beating with joy.  Then, as if he had some sixth sense, he turned, even through his helmet Alodie could see his emerald green eyes widen.  Was it with horror? 
God, I must look a fright
she thought.  Then she smiled at him and he opened his arms.  Appearance forgotten she ran down the steps, two at a time, and hurled herself into his embrace.  “Alodie, oh my love” he whispered  “what has that bastard done to you?”

             
She suddenly felt dizzy from lack of food and light headed.  She could not think straight “Olaf?” she said almost brightly “Oh, Olaf is dead, I killed him”

Herger looked down at her.  “K – killed him? How? And how did you get here before me?”

“I knifed him through the heart and left him dead on an island about seven thousand miles from here….....” she tailed off, realising the enormity of what she had said.  Herger gripped her wrist, then beckoned to Bjarnie.

“Do you need me to finish here?”  The red haired man shook his head and grinned.

“What do you think, Herger?  The villagers were delighted to see us and there are only a handful of Olaf’s men left.  The only problem would be if Olaf showed up – his magic?”

“Olaf is dead!” snapped Herger.  “......and I am taking my wife home to Seinshaven – now”

Alodie shook her head and gestured to where Jake was standing at the top of the steps, watching them concernedly.  “Herger, you must meet my father” she whispered.

Herger saluted Jake with his sword.  “Later, later.  Alodie, you and I have some serious talking to do.”

Putting his fingers to his mouth he whistled piercingly and a second later his horse,   Fenrir, trotted obediently round the corner.  Picking Alodie up as though she were a feather, he grabbed the reins and mounted, then pulling Fenrir’s head round, galloped out of the courtyard.

Silently,  apart from the thudding of the horse’s hooves and the occasional spark as they struck a stone, they climbed the path which led onto the cliff top.  As they rounded the last bend, Alodie breathed in the clean salty air and wondered what on earth she could tell him.  The truth?  He could never grasp it, or could he? She glanced back at him and was filled for a second or two with so much love she felt her heart would burst.  She owed it to him to tell him exactly what had happened and why she was here.  Olaf had believed it after all.  Alodie leaned against him, breathing in his scent of salt and leather.  What a dilemma.

She glanced up and looked round.  To her right side the cliffs soared into the sky at the other side of the fjord with the boats moored at the jetty far below them looking like little toys.  In front of them, hovering on the edge of sight, the
North Sea
, whilst behind them and to the left
,
mile upon mile of what looked like sparse moorland.  Herger reined Fenrir in for a moment as the beauty of the vista hit him too then, breathing deeply, he wheeled the horse round to the left and urged him into a gallop.

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

It took three hours to reach Seinsfjord on the other side of which nestled Seinshaven but for the whole of the time Herger remained silent.

As they wound their way down the steep cliff path, Alodie glanced up, catching sight of the settlement about a mile downstream at the far side of the deep fjord.  It looked beautiful, a village basking peacefully in the early afternoon sunlight, scattered up a gentle hill across the water.  Herger guided Fenrir who half walked, half skidded, down a narrow path to a shingle landing, similar to the one at Segensfjord, where two large rafts were tied.

Once there Herger dismounted and, lifting Alodie down, walked onto one of the rafts, leading the horse. Alodie followed him, his silence unnerving her far more than his anger would have done.

Bending down he picked up a pole and, gesturing for Alodie to do the same, began to guide them across the fjord.  The horse wickered and stamped slightly which made the raft dip and sway but Herger quieted him with a word.   Alodie wondered what would happen once the water got too deep for the long poles but was answered as the punt-like barge was taken by the current.  The landing stage had obviously been built to take account of the current, they seemed to be being taken directly over to the opposite side of the fjord.  Alodie wondered what would happen if they had caught an exceptionally strong tide.  “Herger” she said suddenly “would it not be better if you connected ropes from one side of the fjord to the other, tied the raft to them and pulled yourselves across that way?” she stumbled as the raft began to bob and spin perilously.