Runestone by Don Coldsmith Read Free Book Online Page A

of her warm body and long legs against him in his bed.
    His frustration continued, however. Only once was there an opportunity to speak to her. It was after dark when heencountered her as he walked around the corner of a long-house. She had apparently planned it. She stepped out of the shadows and into his arms, softly yet with a certain urgency. There was no one else in sight. He kissed her warmly, and she returned his eagerness, then pushed him away in the frustrating manner he remembered.
    “You have heard bad things of me,” she suggested sadly.
    “No, I … it does not matter,” he stammered.
    “You will still take me away? Now, when you go?”
    “Not now.”
    Their departure would be two days hence, at high tide. Thorwald Ericson’s ship had departed already, and the
Snowbird
had been moved to its place at the dock for easier loading.
    “Not this trip,” Nils repeated. “We will sail up the headland there, explore this bay, and return here. I will come for you then.”
    “But I can cook for you,” she pleaded, pressing against him enticingly.
    It was plain that she offered more than a cook’s services. With difficulty, he reminded himself of the old seaman’s adage, that a woman on board ship brings bad luck.
    “No,” he said firmly. “I have said I will come for you.”
    She kissed him again before she faded into the darkness, and it was as exciting as before. Even so, he sensed that she was irked at him for postponing her promised release.
    “Until later,” she whispered, her hands caressing him even as she turned away.
    He wondered how long Helge Landsverk wished to explore.
       When the longships prepared to leave with the tide two days later, a large proportion of the colony turned out to bid farewell. The sun was just emerging from the sea on the eastern horizon when the
Norsemaiden
cast loose her moorings and the oarsmen maneuvered out into the channel. The sail was unfurled and she began to run before the wind, cleaving the water and leaving a wisp of foam in her wake. The crowd cheered from shore.
    Nils allowed the other ship to clear the mouth of the coveand begin to run before he cast off. He was searching the faces of the people on shore, searching for a pair of clear blue eyes. Somehow he expected that Ingrid would manage to give him a meaningful look, perhaps even blow him an unseen kiss as he headed off into the unknown. Instead, she had not even seen fit to come to the dock. Even though he realized that this was quite sensible, it rankled him. He was irritated again when it dawned on him that he was actually expecting, perhaps hoping, that she would behave irrationally. Could it be that part of her attraction was the thrill of danger in her behavior?
    He tried to put the girl out of his mind. The ship swung out of the cove and into the channel, with Svenson skillfully bearing on the steering oar. The bright red-and-white sail was unfurled and the canvas filled with a loud snap. The
Snowbird
seemed to leap forward. There was a slight shudder in the timbers, as if she were awakening and ready for the run.
    Nils looked back at Svenson, smiling broadly as he plied the steering oar. He was glad to be afloat again.
    Landsverk set his course to follow the coast, but far enough out in the bay to avoid shallow water. The two dragon ships settled into the day’s run. The shore slid past on their right, rocky palisades and level beaches, forested slopes and meadows. Twice, in the distance, Nils thought he saw a plume of smoke. Each time it quickly vanished, but it was enough to indicate human presence. He could not help but think of the Skraelings, and wonder whether they would encounter any.
    “If you don’t see any Skraelings,” Karlsefni had advised, “that is when they are watching.”
    The thought made Nils a little uneasy. Were there dark eyes even now, peering from hiding, watching the dragon ships race up the bay?
    They made fast time, an excellent day’s travel on a good sea.