A Short Tale From Norse America: Young Ravens & Hidden Blades (The United States of Vinland) Read online

  A Short Tale From Norse America: Young Ravens & Hidden Blades

  The United States of Vinland

  by Colin Taber

  Published by Thought Stream Creative Services, 2013.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  A SHORT TALE FROM NORSE AMERICA: YOUNG RAVENS & HIDDEN BLADES

  First edition. August 5, 2013.

  Copyright © 2013 Colin Taber.

  Written by Colin Taber.

  Table of Contents

  A Short Tale From Norse America: | Young Ravens & Hidden Blades

  A Short Tale From Norse America:

  Young Ravens & Hidden Blades

  The two boys ran across the grass-covered hills under the midday sun. They dodged shrubs and jumped lichen-spotted rocks that punctuated the thin soil. Neck and neck, they raced down into gullies hosting sprays of summer wildflowers and shallow streams, and startled birds and hares that fed and sheltered as best they could in the windswept landscape.

  The boys, despite pumping their ten-year-old legs to reach their destination, found the breath to tease each other that the ghost of the Godsland Wolf was chasing them down.

  “She’s at your heels!” cried Ulfarr, son of Eskil, the founder of Markland, the new Norse settlements in the west.

  Brandr, son of Ballr, laughed, but answered by barging his blond-haired friend with his shoulder to send him careening away. A few breaths later, he cried out, “No, she’s not after me, but you! She wants the son of the man who came to steal Godsland away from her!”

  They both laughed as they raced on, crying out and trying to knock each other off their feet.

  Soon enough they reached their destination — the rocky shore where they had left their raft.

  Ulfarr announced, “A draw!”

  Brandr laughed as they slowed. “I let you win!”

  Ulfarr chuckled as he shook his head and waved his friend toward the raft. “Come, let us get it into the water.”

  They had put the raft together during the last summer, building it with driftwood and finishing it off with some rope and planks. Godsland, the gateway to the new western settlements for ships coming in from Greenland, held a fair supply of both. Eskil had let his son take some off-cuts, as long as he promised never to cross the channel or land alone in the rival lands of Lakeland.

  Dazzled by visions of grand voyages, Ulfarr would have agreed to anything.

  The boys went to where they had pulled the raft up, beyond the tide on to the gravel beach, its oars stored safely beneath. They wasted no time dragging it to the water before grabbing the paddles and pushing the craft out as they waded in after it.

  Climbing aboard, Brandr lunged forward to claim the front with a cry, “Captain!”

  Ulfarr laughed and let him take the lead.

  During their play, with no adults around, this was one of the few times the boys could act as equals. Back in the village, Brandr was destined to always come second to Ulfarr, first born son of the man who led the Ravens.

  After Ulfarr took up his position at the rear, they both knelt, with oars in their hands. The chilled water of the fjord splashed up between gaps in the planks and sloshed about to wet their pants, but they were in high spirits and did not care. With gusto, they began paddling.

  Brandr asked, “Where do we go?”

  “Not too far, we have only the afternoon.”

  “It would be good to go to Guldale and see the village and ironworks.”

  Ulfarr grinned. “You mean the twins?”

  Brandr looked back over his shoulder at his friend. “If only we could see more of them. Once or twice a year is not enough!”

  “You think Karek is cute!”

  “No!” Brandr protested loudly.

  “Yes, you do!”

  Brandr was quiet for a moment before shrugging, “She and her brother are fun to be with.”

  Ulfarr laughed before saying, “You do realise that to marry Karek would make Seta your mother-by-law?”

  Brandr’s eyes widened. After thinking on it, he sighed, “Seta’s not that bad. She has taught the twins a lot about the forests. Her woods-people know so much about the land, the beasts, and the seasons here.”

  Ulfarr nodded as they paddled.

  Before long, they had left the gravel beach behind them and neared the middle of the wide channel. Ulfarr said, “Well, we won’t be seeing the twins; by raft, it takes all day to get to Guldale and back.”

  “I know,” Brandr said glumly. “But where do we go now?”

  Ulfarr looked out across the water, thinking of what might offer the most adventure.

  The steep shores of Lakeland loomed ahead.

  Brandr asked, “Shall we just take the raft back home to Godsland?”

  They both turned to look down the channel, where some of the rooftops of the village showed, peaking above the hilltop. Most of the village hid in the gully beyond, with the Godsland Hall nestled in its side. The top of the hill lay levelled and ready for the new Raven Hall that Eskil and Ballr planned to build over coming summers.

  “No, if we go now, we’ll get back too early. We’ll either be put to work or be asked to watch over the younger children.”

  “You are right. This is the first time we’ve been able to get out on the raft since the spring storms. Let’s not ruin it.”

  They paddled on, reaching the middle of the channel.

  Normally, they would now be headed one way or the other, towards Godsland or Guldale, turning from Lakeland’s forbidden shores. But this time they were not.

  After a few quiet oar strokes, Brandr asked, “Do you think he’s there?”

  Ulfarr searched the patchy woodlands ahead, where they ran steeply down to the shoreline of the fjord. “Thoromr One-Eye?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, he’s not there.”

  “What do you mean — you don’t believe in him?”

  “No, not that. I believe in him, to not do so would be like calling your own father a liar, as it was he who put out Thoromr’s eye.”

  Brandr grinned with pride. “So what do you mean?”

  “That the Lakeland vale is supposedly over that ridge, and that they have their own new lands further on, just like our Guldale. That’s where Thoromr is. Just as we don’t cross the water to their land here, they also don’t cross the ridge, as it brings them too close to us. That’s why Thoromr One-Eye is not on that shore. We call it theirs, but in truth, it is not. You’ve heard our fathers talk about it; no one has seen anyone walk that shore for years. It is only a borderland, too steep for farming or building a hall. It is nothing.”

  Brandr gave a nod. “My father says they are different now that Faraldr the Greenlander has brought in his own people, same as he has to Godsland and Guldale. He says Lakeland is only ruled over by Thoromr in name, that it is Aldis, his wife and Faraldr’s sister, who truly wields the power.”

  Ulfarr agreed. “My father says the same, though it sounds as if One-Eye still has some say in what happens.”

  “He has a son — a great and strong son with golden hair — who is a sure shot with a bow.”

  “Who says that?” asked Ulfarr.

  “My father. He says that one day I might meet him and that I should be ready for such a thing. He says that as our fathers have had a bloody history, so it is also likely their sons will too.”

  Ulfarr thought about that. “It is true; Ballr is wise.”

 
Brandr again turned and grinned at Ulfarr.

  The raft continued on, both boys paddling under the blue sky, as if waiting for the other to stop or begin to change course. They were now two-thirds of the way across the channel.

  Brandr asked, “Do you think One-Eye is as fierce as they say?”

  “He was when he murdered Ari and when Leif died, but they say he has changed since he lost an eye. I think our parents tell us to keep away from Lakeland as a caution, not because they really think he would grab us and kill us.”

  Brandr nodded. “My mother says they were surprised he survived the wound. He changed after that, and again when he married Aldis.”

  Ulfarr had heard the same thing. “Travellers returning from Lakeland told my father Thoromr is haunted by nightmares of the shades of Ari and Leif coming back from their graves for him.”

  “He murdered Ari, everyone knows that; but he didn’t kill Leif.”

  “Yes, but people say he feels some of the guilt.”

  “Could they, Leif and Ari, come back from their graves for him?”

  Ulfarr shrugged. “The travellers told my father that Thoromr dug up Leif’s body himself and smashed the skull to stop such a thing.”

  Brandr was fascinated. “What a creepy story!”

  Ulfarr nodded, but wore a perverse grin.

  “You’re lying — it can’t be true!”

  Ulfarr’s face became stern as he cursed. “By the gods, don’t call me a liar! That’s what I’ve been told, which might not make it true, but it’s what I’ve heard and what was reported to my father.”

  Brandr dipped his head and gave a nod. “Sorry. But what a tale! Why would he suddenly have thought shades were about? What would make him so scared?”

  “I know my father has heard from some of the ships passing through on their way back to Greenland that there have been troubles in Lakeland.”

  They rowed on.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Things stolen in the night — even people have gone missing.”

  “Could it be shades?”

  “My father thinks it must be thralls or skraelings.”

  Brandr looked ahead to the shoreline, the raft getting closer with each stroke. “Not shades?”

  “No.”

  They paddled on again in silence.

  Brandr broke the quiet as his eyes searched the woods of the nearing shore. “You were right, what you said earlier, about the ridge-side being a borderland. No one is ever there.”

  “So, where do you want to go now?” Ulfarr asked.

  The young Marklander gave into a daring grin. “To the shore. We won’t stay, but we can at least say we have been to Lakeland and survived.”

  Ulfarr laughed. “We just have to be careful who we say it to. If my father finds out, it will not be One-Eye who kills us!”

  Brandr nodded. “Yes, I’m not sure who’d punish me hardest if they found out; my mother or my father.”

  “Your mother is kind-spirited — she’d never touch you!”

  “She is quiet and kind, but when she is angry, she is more frightening than Seta!”

  Ulfarr shook his head, laughing as he did. “That is hard to believe, but maybe that is why she and Seta are such close friends.”

  Brandr also laughed. “Yes, I think they practice together on how to brood, growl and give those chilly stares.”

  Yet they still rowed on.

  Ulfarr said, “Well, I did promise my father that I’d never go to Lakeland alone.”

  “And you’re not.”

  Looking to his friend, Ulfarr smiled and tried to convince himself that his father would somehow approve of the adventure they were about to embark upon. Finally, he pushed any doubts from his mind. “True.”

  “Besides, what could go wrong?”

  And so, with Brandr’s words hanging in the air, they made for shore.

  They came in slowly, looking for any sign of movement, but there was little to see aside from some birds on the water and more in the trees. With a nod to each other, they continued in.

  After landing, they hid their raft on the shore, amongst the branches of a fallen tree. From there, they quietly took to the bank, hiding amongst shrubs and trees to make sure no Lakelanders were about.

  Birdsong filled the branches overhead, the nearest birds watching the boys, paying no heed to anything else. Their song and focus reassured Ulfarr and Brandr that they were alone and that no man or beast lurked nearby.

  Still, they crouched in their hiding spot and waited.

  Ulfarr’s unease at the twisting of his promise to his father was beginning to nag at him.

  Time passed, and thankfully, no foe emerged from the wooded slope to challenge them, most certainly not a giant of a man with blond hair, a red beard and one eye. In fact, they heard no sound other than the occasional flutter of wings, call of birds, and light breeze passing through the trees.

  They were alone.

  Reassured, the two boys began to range along the shoreline at the bottom of the slope and explore this long forbidden place.

  Lakeland!

  Cautiously, they started to move further away from the water.

  Each boy took it in turn to advance, one passing the other. A few steps by one obliged the other to match them — or dared them to go beyond. Before long, they had left the raft behind and had begun to make their way up the steep ridge, although they did take care and fall into a deep silence as they climbed a switchback animal trail.

  When they were about a third of the way up the slope, Ulfarr grabbed Brandr’s arm and brought their progress to a stop. He whispered, “Wait.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, but we have landed and can now make the claim. Why not go back and head elsewhere?” his gaze never leaving the hillside as he spoke. Deep down he felt they were alone, but at the same time, in his mind, the promise to his father grew in weight.

  This was Lakeland. Empty borderland or not, they shouldn’t be here.

  While he had not really broken his promise, as he was not alone, he knew his father hadn’t meant sneaking around the ridge with Brandr. Eskil would not be pleased. No one back in Godsland would be. Ulfarr knew as well as anyone what had happened to Ari.

  Thoromr had murdered him.

  Brandr looked disappointed. He’d been a little anxious earlier, but now that they had landed, he seemed to relish being on the same shoreline where his own father had long ago so famously half-blinded Thoromr and gifted the wild Lakelander the title of One-Eye. “We’re here now; we should make the most of it. Besides, where else would we go?”

  Ulfarr grimaced. “We still have time to get out to the runestone and back home before the sun sets.”

  Brandr looked to the sky. “Perhaps, but we’ve done that before. Many times.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “You know what we could do, now that we’re here?”

  “What?”

  “Climb up to the ridge crest and actually look down upon the vale of Lakeland.”

  Ulfarr’s watch of the wooded slope slowed as his gaze followed the trail that climbed steeply in front of them, the path clear, but not well worn. He frowned. “We’ve been brave to come, but no one is here. Have you not had enough?”

  “That’s the reason to do it — no one is here. There are still birds about and the noises of the woods.” This was true. “We may never get the chance to come back. We’ve both been to the runestone before, but neither of us has looked upon the heart of Lakeland.” As he spoke, his eyes twinkled, partly with passion, but also with mischievous daring.

  Ulfarr looked about again. No one was around.

  They were alone; it was true.

  Brandr knew his friend well, and while neither one of them was reckless, they were both boys who didn’t often get time for an adventure such as this. Thinking of his father’s famous victory over Thoromr One-Eye, he whispered the one phrase that he knew would have them stay. “You’re not afrai
d, are you?”

  Ulfarr grimaced. He was many things, just like his father: intelligent, capable, and certainly no coward. “We go to the top, but quietly. Once we get there, we’ll have a quick look. When we see a hall, field or fence, we go. If we see a Lakelander, we go twice as fast.”

  “Great!” Brandr whispered. He then lunged forward, striding up the path as quickly as he could. Over his shoulder he hissed, “I’ll race you!”

  Ulfarr hurried after him.

  They climbed the trail, following its twists and turns as it snaked up the steep hillside ahead of them. The woods thickened and thinned in different places, rock outcrops occasionally piercing the stony soil, breaking the good cover of rambling shrubs and fern undergrowth. The chaotic nature of the landscape gave the boys confidence in their adventure: The foreign hillside, part of a land so long forbidden, offered many places to hide as they continued their advance.

  They took turns leading, one overtaking the other when he stopped to examine something or turned to look back at the view of the green spread of Godsland island across the channel.

  Before long, they were halfway up the slope; soon after, two-thirds of the way. The soil became thinner, and the hillside turned into a mix of rock and gravel marked by gullies where small streams drained the rains from the ridge. Yet the greenery of woods persisted.

  The steep trail they followed soon levelled off near the base of a series of rock faces, and then headed out of a thick grove of trees, before cutting across the slope through a patch of shrubs and more exposed rock. To their surprise, the boys realised they were near the top of the ridge. The crest was only fifty paces away.

  Ulfarr slowed and put out a hand to stop Brandr.

  “What?”

  “We need to be careful — this is not our land. If we want to look upon the Lakeland vale, we need to be ready to turn back to the raft as soon as we see someone,” hissed Ulfarr.

  Brandr sobered and nodded.

  The boys carefully followed the path along the slope as it gradually turned and climbed toward the crest. Out here, high up on the ridge, they no longer had any cover.