The United States of Vinland: The Landing (The Markland Trilogy) by Colin Taber Read Free Book Online Page B

the stone, only to cry out
once. With wide eyes, he looked up at the runestone towering over him.
    Gudrid
turned to look down the coast at the cairns of stone marking the graves of
Drifa and Manni. Both cairns were battered by the worst of the winter storms.
It seemed that when stirred, the sea’s anger could reach up onto the pasture
and still have the strength to move rock, though she could only guess how much
of it had been caused by surging water or shifting ice. She knew in time they
would have to return and repair them so they had a better chance of surviving
the winters to come.
    Her
thoughts led her to consider the runestone, for it also faced exposure from the
rage of winter’s squalls. It was a sign of their landing place, where they had
first camped, the place where the gods had revealed Markland to them. The
Landing Stone also needed protection.
    With
her gaze upon it, she whispered, “Like us, it should never be let to fall.”
    Eskil
thought on her words, but then cleared his throat and prompted. “There is smoke
on the horizon.”
    His
wife reluctantly nodded before collecting Ulfarr.
    They
made their way back along the shore and then cut across the hills as swift as
they could, while watching for signs of smoke from across the water. The
telltale column of light grey had faded, perhaps blown away by the rising
breeze, or perhaps the fire that had caused it now burnt more cleanly.
Regardless, they still needed to investigate.
    ––––––––
    W hen
they returned to the hall, they found the others had also seen the smoke and
had begun to prepare. The iron knives and axe were sharpened, as were the stone
and bone blades they had begun to make and use, along with their fire-hardened
spears.
    The
iron represented some of their settlement’s greatest treasures.
    Eskil
spoke as they gathered at the ice-caked shoreline, gathering around Steinarr
and Torrador’s beached raft. “I would rather take twenty men, but we do not
have them.”
    Ballr
offered, “All six of us should go. Skraelings are said to be fierce if but
short wretches.”
    Steinarr
countered, “Perhaps we will meet a different type of skraeling to what has been
faced before?”
    “We
lack knowledge to make any decision with certainty. We must be cautious,” Eskil
observed. “While we are close to both Greenland and Vinland, we are also far
enough away that we might face a different kind of people.”
    Torrador
agreed. “The raft can only take five. If things do not go well and we need to
get away, do we draw lots to decide which of us stays behind and waits to be
collected after the others are all safe?”
    Eskil
gave a nod. “A good point.”
    Torrador
grinned.
    “We
will send five, and I know who will remain behind, for he has something to
attend to in a season’s time.” His gaze fell on Ballr.
    “Me?
I will not stay! I will go across to fight these skraelings! Besides, I am the
lightest. We should leave the heaviest behind in case the swell rises to swamp
the raft!”
    Steinarr
turned on him and gave him a shove. “I will not be staying! I have only blooded
myself on a wolf, a seal and a bellyful of fish. I will be going to gut some
skraelings!”
    Gudrid
stood watching at the edge of the men’s argument, while Ballr got back his
balance after Steinarr’s push. His face was red with anger as he looked to both
his tormentor and Eskil. He snapped, “I will not be staying!”
    But
it was Gudrid who answered him, “You will be staying, as Halla is due in a
season or so, and if any should stay, it should be you to see the birth.”
    Halla
came to stand beside Gudrid, her eyes downcast. Her pregnancy had been a point
of great joy between her and Ballr, yet now it was opening a vein of
resentment.
    “You
will stay, Ballr,” Eskil said in a firm tone, “You will stay to protect the
women and also little Ulfarr.”
    “I
wish to go.”
    “Of
course you do, but Torrador is right that we can only take one load. There is