Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice
Toke, now pleased, turns and makes his way up the jetty with his servants behind him.
Rolf points to the cargo ship on the other side of the jetty and says, “Liam take Thora below and make sure she’s comfortable.”
As soon as we step on the ship I notice most of the warriors didn’t bring their wives with them but brought one female thrall instead. Thora notices the same thing, and her cheeks flush with color as she walks down to the small ship’s hold with me. The smell of the animals in the hold beside us chokes us. Thora brings out a bag of herbs and crushes some in her hands for us to smell.
Toke’s loud voice bellows above us, “Go down under the hold, Kitten.”
White kidskin boots appear down the ladder, and upon seeing the silk, I know who is joining us. Thora nods to her in forced respect as Dalla instructs her thrall to arrange her cushions and smooth her silk down to sit without wrinkling. Thora gives me a look. We stay below until I can feel the boat’s motion. There is a great rhythmic splashing sound all around us, and when I go up to the top of the ladder, I find it is the thirty-two oars of the Rolf’s warship beside us hitting the water at the same instant. Each oar has two warriors in its oar port. I search for Rolf and have a newfound respect for him, seeing him there, gritting his teeth and pulling the oar in perfect time.
I look up to the massive white square sail crackling in the wind and above it a large banner flag with the raven on it, the symbol of Odin. The ocean’s sparkling this early in the morning, and I wonder if we’ll be getting to Ireland before tomorrow’s sunset. I go back under, trying to pull out Thora’s cushions for her from her things, so she can rest well.
“Thank you, Liam.”
Dalla looks taken aback by her politeness to a slave. I get out Ma’s blanket, wrap myself in it, and try to shut my eyes with the lulling of the ship in the ocean waves.
At night, they anchor and in the red-sky morning, we all set sail again, following the seabirds toward the jagged Irish coast. The green mountains close in around us, and we head straight into the lough my da once fished. As we draw near the seaside village, the warriors let out a roar of terror that shakes the ship and reverberates over the waves. A shiver runs through me as I remember what that sounds like on shore. I squint and search the houses to see if I can find the one I was born in and hurt to see the women and children running up the hill toward the church.
The warriors thrust the ships up on shore, and I watch in awe how quickly Rolf jumps off with his masked helmet, shield, sword in hand, and other weapons tied behind his back. The fishermen hurry to bring their boats up and run for safety, but many are caught with raised swords.
Was Da taken this way? Is that why he never came for us?
Thora, Dalla, the other thralls, and I all watch from the safety of the deck behind the brightly colored shields. The chieftain paces the shore beside his best bodyguards as he watches his warriors pillage and burn the houses closest to the water. All eyes turn to the hilltop, where a great bellow booms over the harbor and lifts over the ships to the ocean, emanating from Irish warriors with raised axes and swords to the air—surprising Chieftain Toke.
He calls to his men, smiling, “Warriors! We have a fair fight here!”
Toke raises his sword as his men drop their plunder and run back to their chief. Toke nods to his men to give out mushrooms to his bear-shirted warriors. Then he walks back to our ship and says to the head warrior standing guard over us, “You and your men take the women to the safety of those caves.” He points up shore past jagged rock to a darkness in the face of the cliffs. “We will come to you when we are finished with our game.”
I jump off the ship and catch Thora as she leaps.
Dalla frets. “Won’t you take us and then you will be safe as well?” She looks up toward the horrifying men charging down the cliffs as she spoke.
He laughs as he helps her out of the ship. “Kitten, ‘kings are made for honour, not for long life.”
He slaps her backside with the flat of his sword and walks off as we start running with the four warriors. The Irishmen thunder closer, and the chieftain shouts out, “FREE GUNHILDA!”
Gunhilda leaps off of the bow of the ship with her shield and sword out like wings. She clears the water completely with her god-like jump, then roars and runs up
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