A Journey in Kind: Viking Blood

By Susan Schaffner

Can the power of Viking blood defy death? In 1907, Alison MacGiverson sees her body laying on the beach at Tiburon Island. Yet her spirit mysteriously merges with Asta Haroldsdottir, the young bride of Viking explorer, Eirik Sigmusson. Tied to Asta, Alison travels back in time from the shores of Tiburon to medieval Sudrland, assuming her role as spirit guide.

Forced to relocate after the loss of their family farmstead in Iceland, Erik and his brother, Sigmus, sail to their mothers manor and swear fealty to the clan chieftain, unaware of the duplicity rooted in their adopted homeland. With danger imminent, can Alisons ghostly presence help or hinder the Sigmussons as they ferret out friend from foe, and suspicious spectre from meddling voyeur?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496929938

Susan Schaffner

In a four-book series, Susan Schaffner merges the mythology and lore of Medieval Vikings and the tribal peoples of Sonora, Mexico, sweeping readers off on a journey through eight hundred years of adventure and romance. From the placid waters of the Sea of Cortez to the storm-ridden North Atlantic, the two cultures collide and intertwine to create a compelling saga.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

North Atlantic Ocean: Late Autumn, 1107

W hat else could go wrong? Asta wondered, staring out to sea. They had heard the rumors while aport in the Vinland camps, and a skald could not have spun a more befitting end to their journey. Greenland awaited, and there, what was left of their family and uncertain future. Beyond those troubles, however, the voice of her spirit friend had fallen silent. Feeling forsaken, she’d listened over the weeks at sea, but heard nothing—just the lonely beating of her heart.

Sailing for home across uncharted oceans, she’d had time to contemplate those last days of reckoning on the desert isle. Their daring voyage had tested even the hardiest of souls, but her own courage had been for Eirik and Sigmus—to attend and love them. So what if Alison had abandoned her! Did she really want a meddling apparition in her life?

Oh, yes. I want her to return, she quickly responded. Yet Alison remained silent, hovering beyond reach. And the radiant cord of light that bound them had died to an occasional flutter in the belly.

Alison, where have you gone? Please, speak to me like before! Glimpses came to mind of the earnest face that had risked everything, even death, to save Eirik and her. Regrettably, she had not heeded Alison’s warnings and the consequences haunted the weeks sailing for home—for a place that now did not exist.

Asta, what in Freyja’s name do you do, . . . standing with no tether!?

Asta whirled around. Eirik stood behind her, irritation etched across his brow. Grabbing the rope, he shook it in her face. Yet she couldn’t reply. She had no rational reason why thinking of Alison took her far from the ship, from him, even from herself. That pondering their journey was more than she could bear. She had not ventured to speak of past events, her melancholy, nor the deep longing for someone who was only a vague recollection. Alison was as lost to her as the farmstead in Iceland was to Eirik and Sigmus.

I did not think, she answered with a blank voice. Wind Serpent rose out of the water, then splashed down into the white foam with a jolting slap.

Eirik’s hard expression instantly changed and he took her in his arms. Asta, I know you be unsettled by the news. I as well. But until we ken the facts of my father’s banishment, brooding gains nothing.

Everything has changed since we set sail for Vinland so long ago. Asta clung tighter to him. I see our former life lost forever. Most of all I know not our destination. Our plans for a home at Cairnby are surely gone too. Sigmus the Elder will never agree to our resettling now.

Granted there be many things to reconcile. But, Asta, I have every intention of fulfilling my promise to you. We will sail for Mother’s lands when possible.

Eirik, even good intentions will not be enough if matters at Sigmusbudir are grave. Is that settlement a place where you would leave Britna behind to keep a promise to your wife?

She could not help the tremble in her voice. She’d never felt so alone in her husband’s arms. He did not understand her conflict of feelings, nor the desolation in her heart. Oh, Alison, why have you deserted me?

Asta, my love, he said soothingly, running his hand over her crown as if to pacify her thoughts. Let us take our troubles one at a time. You jump too far ahead. Next, I fear you will have us debating our first son’s name. His voice broke into a soft chuckle. She looked up. "I do not laugh to minimize the decisions ahead, but can we not enjoy these last days at sea? That we be together and our journey successful? We do have more timber than Father will need come spring and the following. And you ken how he loves the jingle of silver coin."

Eirik held her tighter to his chest. His strong unwavering heartbeat made her realize that after weeks navigating home in the cramped confines of the ship, they would soon share the passionate intimacy bred from the strange voyage into skraeling land. Perhaps it was for the best that Alison was gone. She wasn’t sure she could share Eirik with another woman—even one in spirit form.

Head buried, she mumbled, "Well, I tell you this. My son will not be named Sigmus. As much as I would love to honor your brother, there are too many in the family already."

Eirik laughed. Loki take me! You be a woman to rival the sea!

How so? she asked, pulling back from his arms.

Your currents drift in erratic directions. It takes a keen eye and hand at the rudder to steer you a steady course.

And you speak with words better directed to your ship. I am but a woman, even though the last time you looked was weeks ago.

Eirik howled, and his men stopped at their duties to look and laugh among themselves. In that moment of merriment, Geir strode forward. He hailed to Eirik, pointing at the ship whose wake they followed.

Sigmus hoists his flag. Shall I prepare the plank?

Aye, Eirik nodded, then turned. Can he nay leave us be for one day, our last?

"He only wants to talk. After years of rivalry and discord, be glad brotherly fondness has replaced animosities. At least we can say that has come from the voyage."

Talk? To me or you? Eirik asked, watching the ships angle to dock. I swear, you and he have forged a bond that tests a husband’s tolerance. How can I not be jealous of his attention?

Asta clung to Eirik’s arm. ’Tis a friendship sealed from loss, my love. He mourns for Kaarta, and I am the only one with whom he can share those feelings. When another woman takes her place, I will be forgotten. As any good friend should be for the pleasure between a husband and wife.

I ken what you say, be true. Eirik’s tone remained bone dry. But by Freyja’s hand, I hope that he meets a woman soon who will salve his spirit. Of late, your brooding self seems to find solace only in his persistent company.

Startled at his inference, she glanced up. Did he sense her fragmented feelings? In those last frantic moments leaving the island, did he remember touching Alison’s hand? Over the weeks they’d sailed for home, he’d never questioned the odd occurrence of their rescue.

I do not follow your thought.

At times you seem to be farther away than the stars. You dwell in places in your mind that make me wonder… and fearful… that you will not return to me.

Oh, Eirik! She hugged him closer, but then stepped back when his arms hung to his sides. Have I worried you with my blind lapses? The magnitude of our voyage and everything that happened might be common fare for sailing men, but to a woman… has been overwhelming.

Aye, that I can understand, but ’tis troublesome the way curious happenings keep circling round you. He smiled, though his eyes conveyed sadness.

I will explain when the time is right. ’Tis over anyway, my fears, she said, smiling. From now on, you have your wife’s support and constant attention. Must have been the warm seas and hot lands of the skraeling that took me from myself. With the north wind steering our way home, all is well. I am sorry if I worried you. I have been too absorbed in myself. Forgive me?

Eirik’s face softened and he placed a soft kiss on her brow. She prayed she’d spoken truly. That the cursed heat of their journey was to blame for her erratic moods. Alison was now gone. Whether she had been an angel guide or just a kindly wraith, was not something to delve into deeper. On the morrow, they would face more Sigmusson family travails—likely caused by her father-in-law’s rash acts and explosive temper. Those concerns were bound to keep her mind’s bountiful imagination from wandering off course. From here on, she would assume her wifely responsibilities, using her own wits and guile. Instincts told her, that’s what Alison would have wanted her to do.

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Sigmus jumped on board Wind Serpent, his face unable to belie his anxiety.

Eirik, he bid, then put his arm around Asta’s shoulders. After her conversation with Eirik, she wanted to pull away, but thought better of it after noticing Sigmus’ distress.

What be wrong? Eirik clipped, annoyance not far below the surface of his voice.

’Tis Ktamyu. He awoke this morn with fever. I ken not what to do! He looked at Asta. Do you have anything in your chest of cures that might help him?

Asta knew the chest of which he spoke. It was actually Kaarta’s collection of dried plants. He had not spoken the skraeling girl’s name to anyone since finding her strangled on the island. If anything could cure Ktamyu’s malady, it would be Kaarta’s plants.

I can try.

Good. Fetch what you will need and come with me!

Eirik quickly interceded. Wait, there! Who gave you the right to direct my wife, tell her what she will do and when? Shoulders set, he grabbed Asta by the hand, stopping her in her tracks. I do not want her tending any sick man. She might become ill herself!

Eirik’s eyes had a green cast as Sigmus’ face turned crimson. Asta’s exasperation with them bubbled. They acted as if nothing had changed between them. Before Sigmus could respond and angry words erupt, she spoke sharply.

Will you both stop bickering! A man’s life is at risk, but not mine! She looked at Eirik. If something can be done, we cannot let Ktamyu die. Lest we all forget that he saved us from death more than once! She dropped her voice. I will get my chest. Eirik, you come with Sigmus and me. Let us cease fighting. We are family and need no dissension, especially now.

Spinning away, she felt the penetrating stares from Eirik and Sigmus on her back. So what, she mused, it was past time she spoke her mind. Kneeling behind the trunks—the private place she and Eirik shared—she grabbed several bags of Kaarta’s dried plants. Emotions knotted in her throat. She missed the skraeling girl who’d captured Sigmus’ heart and changed him, blood and fiber, from the cold calculating man he’d been. Sigmus the Elder would never understand his son’s painful transformation.

Flared into anger by thoughts of her father-in-law yet again, she crawled from the trunks and stalked toward the prow. Hair whipping in the wind, the rosy blush to her cheeks contrasted with the very blue of her eyes. The men glanced up at her purposeful gait—all held Eirik’s wife in high esteem. She’d been the only one among the women to survive. The least likely to do so, but the most worthy.

Eirik hoisted her onto the lypting. His look of bemusement mirrored Sigmus’. Little did they know that she could be a formidable ally or fearsome when crossed. Yet she wondered where her newfound confidence sprang—was it her own, or Alison’s? Speculation aside, Ktamyu had to be saved. God, let me find a cure!

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Well? Sigmus inquired, setting a pail of water by Asta.

Sigmus, you have asked her enough times about Ktamyu’s condition. ’Tis unchanged!

Sigmus raked his hands through his hair. Forgive me, Asta. Just do not let him die.

Eirik tugged at Sigmus’ sleeve, pulling him away. They rose, leaving Asta to administer her cures. Relieved they’d retreated, she wiped Ktamyu’s brow. Apprehensions were reminiscent of the last hours she’d spent with Kaarta. Washing sweat from the skraeling chief’s dark skin, she pondered why he’d suddenly turned ill. One thing she did know, he hadn’t been poisoned like Kaarta. His sickness, however, had quickly become the concern of everyone—especially Sigmus.

Sigmus and Ktamyu had developed a deep bond, and all the crew deemed the chief one of them. Ktamyu had helped guide the ship from the island, then to the river passage. He showed them the best fish from the waters along the way. And he’d defeated most of the men in games of skill—arm wrestling, swimming and spearing.

Tears came to her eyes. Ktamyu lay quietly, his body shaking with chills, then fever. What can I do? Tell me! The words were not a prayer, but a cry for help. But she heard nothing. In despair, she tore open another bag of herbs and shook the leaves into a mug of warmed water. The proper way according to Toonak, Kaarta’s grandsire, was to steep the leaves. But she was desperate. She had to break the fever.

"I could hide no longer with him so ill."

Asta cocked her head and looked furtively over her shoulder. Was she just imagining a voice? Ktamyu moaned, drawing her attention back to him.

"He will not recover aboard ship… not exposed to the cold and damp."

Alison? Asta asked, praying she’d heard right. Is it really you?

"No good will come of this, do you know that? I tried to keep away, to stay hidden in your mind, but I cannot watch this man die. Can I?"

Oh, Alison. ’Tis true, you have come. When you became silent after we left the island and the light between us died, I thought you were gone forever…

"And relieved, I suspect. As a ghost with no body would only make trouble for you and Eirik." Though speaking lightly, a pang of truth told her she was right. Asta had every right to worry. For now, she must keep her thoughts closed. She didn’t know yet how much Asta could hear.

Asta ignored the comment and implored. Can you save Ktamyu? Looking down at the mug of watered herbs, she tilted her head in an effort to listen. Alison’s voice spoke again:

"I will do what I can, but cannot promise. When will we land? I believe if he is kept warm and forced hot liquids, he will recover. Though I worry, for his breathing is labored. Pray that he has not caught pneumonia."

I do not understand.

What Asta? Sigmus asked, kneeling beside her.

Does he fail further into fever? Eirik asked, suddenly stooping next to Sigmus.

"Aye… his breathing is labored. He will not be cured unless we get him quickly ashore, to a warm place where we can force liquids into him."

Sigmus glanced at Eirik.

Can he last until the morn? The worry was evident on Eirik’s face.

"We must keep him warm and sheltered as best we can."

We must keep him warm and sheltered as best we can, Asta repeated, then inclined her head to hear more.

"Perhaps a tent can be erected, or maybe under the shelter of the small boat."

Can we erect a tenting, or maybe he can rest underneath the faering?

’Tis done, Sigmus said, already moving into action.

"Asta, have fires built. We must keep him dry and warm. More blankets, too!"

Anything else? Asta asked, meeting Eirik’s level look.

Seems a sound plan, Asta, though I ken nothing of illnesses and cures.

Ah… yes, Asta stammered, bombarded by multiple voices speaking to her. Perhaps we need more dry pelts, and bring your extra mantle. Wool will lock out the cold.

I will see to it now.

Her head spun as Eirik stepped away toward the docking plank. Left alone with only Alison’s voice in her ear, she asked. Will you stay? I will need your help. I know little of medicines and cures.

"After tonight, Asta, that will change. That I can promise."

Asta sighed, calmer and more hopeful than before. Alison had come to help her, Ktamyu would be saved. Over the weeks at sea, the loss of their connection had resulted in a wretched empty feeling that rent her heart. Now she brimmed with confidence and expectations rose that ghostly possession held a wider realm of possibilities than she’d ever imagined. She only hoped she could persuade Alison to stay and rekindle the light that burned between them. Surely Alison was as curious as she, where the power came from and where it could take them.

CHAPTER TWO

H our after hour, the night droned on. Ktamyu lay shuddering with fever while Sigmus kept the fires stoked, making the shelter under the faering stifling to Asta, and lonely. But with Eirik and Sigmus taking turns sitting with her, she was never really alone. Though Alison had not spoken, she didn’t feel as apprehensive as before. Somewhere, she knew, Alison watched and waited.

Could Alison hear her thoughts? The question was one she’d pondered for several hours. If so, maybe they could learn to speak between themselves. It was all too new and confusing. They needed time alone to sort out the dilemma. Yet that would be impossible once the ships landed in Sigmusbudir—the Greenland settlement that was a way stop between Iceland and the Vinland camps.

When Sigmus rose from watch, Eirik came out of the shadows just behind the faering to sit by her. Are you tired, my love? She was relieved to have his company for the moment and needed his strong, capable presence to distract her thoughts.

Aye, a little. If I could only see a change for the better, then I could shut my eyes. Yet I dare not, Ktamyu pushes the pelts from his body when fevered.

Here, lean on my shoulder and rest. I will watch the skraeling and keep him covered.

Eirik pulled her over. The touch of his hand, his broad warm shoulder, was heaven sent. After hours of fighting her fatigue, she collapsed and closed her eyes.

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She was alone with Eirik. She could not see him as Asta’s eyes were shut, but she could feel him and that was enough. On the return voyage, there had been too few opportunities when she and Asta had been alone with him—it being a perilous journey.

That was why she hadn’t spoken to Asta. The voyage was too rife with dangers, one after another. Yet when Ktamyu became ill, she had to surface. In fact, she’d been as lonely as Asta, and perplexed by the events of the dreaming, and the ending of her life in the corporeal world. She’d often ruminated, did Esteban and Maria think of her? Did Mark miss her? And what had her father thought after he heard the news of her death.

A pain shot through her heart, and Asta whimpered as if feeling the same anguished thoughts. Eirik touched Asta’s face, slowly brushing the hair from her brow. She could feel his calloused hand, so tender and full of love for his wife. How could she ever reconcile her feelings for them both? Though Eirik was the one she’d waited for, her connection to Asta was beyond doubt. For the present, however, she and Asta were trapped, and she couldn’t envision them living together as one, with such different personalities.

She never should have let Asta pull her aboard Dragon Horse. A fatal mistake, but perhaps with time she would stop clinging and forget that she was once Alison MacGiverson. Until that day, she hoped that Asta and she could live amicably. Asta must never suspect her love for Eirik, nor the passion they’d shared. She could not hurt the young woman who generously held her life like a baby in the womb.

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Alison, are you here? Asta whispered, glancing down at Ktamyu, whose fever had broken at dawn. Soon they’d arrive at Sigmusbudir, and she wanted desperately to speak to Alison before the ships docked. Once moored, there’d be no time for personal conversing. Not with questions of why Sigmus the Elder was banished, and the farmstead in Iceland, lost?

Alison, scant time remains. I need to speak with you before we land. ’Tis important.

"I am here, Alison said guiltily, still basking from her time spent vicariously with Eirik. You have problems awaiting. Prudence dictates that you be with Eirik and help him. You need not have your thoughts cluttered by me and our situation."

And what is our situation? Asta’s voice had a distinct lightness to it.

"I am here in your thoughts, a separate person and mind. Does that not alarm you?"

’Tis strange, to say the least, but I bid you to come with us. I am not sorry, and believe with all my heart there are reasons why you are here. It is for us to discover the meaning of the light and your connection to Eirik… and me.

"You are too good, Asta. Do you think we will find the answers?"

Together, we will search till sense can be made of it. That aside for the present, we need to speak about our landing. I suppose you ken the details of our predicament?

"Yes, and I am sorry this has happened to your plans. But until you hear the facts, do not make a hasty judgment. It has been my experience that matters are never as bad as they seem. We might be surprised by the direction this calamity will take. I think it is wise, I remain silent. You need no diversions. One piece of advice. Do not let Sigmus the Elder dictate to Eirik and Sigmus. It will only cause more conflict. I will stay close to help with the Indi… the skraeling chief. He will need a quiet, warm place and plenty of rich broths."

Mulling over the situation, Alison couldn’t guess how the turn of events would affect them. She was at the mercy of outside forces, but trusted in Eirik’s judgment, and maybe Sigmus’ too. Strangely, she’d grown to admire Sigmus, but worried about his growing feelings for Asta.

Britna will help us with Ktamyu. She is skilled in healing. You will love her. Asta glanced around to see if anyone watched. Speaking aloud to Alison seemed so natural, but she must learn to wait for guarded moments. Eirik didn’t need more problems than he already had.

"The men are shouting our arrival…"

God only knows what we will find ashore. Do you pray, Alison?

She hesitated, knowing Asta’s religious faith. "Not as much as I should… I was taught a different kind of religion, one of self-reliance. She could feel Asta didn’t understand. What I mean, fending for and relying on oneself. To assume responsibility and endure the everyday trials of life."

Sounds frightening not to believe and trust in heaven. Perhaps I can teach you a little faith, and you can instruct me in healing. Once Eirik and I have our own home, I will need those skills to help our people.

"All right, a fair trade indeed. Only, I fear, you have the more difficult task—teaching me faith. Where I come from, life is complicated by more knowledge than one has time to learn. We do not trust blindly in what we cannot see, but in what we can, using logic and deduction. But I am not sure we are better off for it, probably not. Still, I will keep an open mind to your faith. We have to live with each other—for who knows how long."

Let it be a long while, Alison. Asta’s voice became softer. Except for Eirik, I have been alone most of my life. To have you with me, feels… well, feels like the sister I never had… I trust you.

Alison closed her mind as guilt assailed her conscience. She replied quickly.

"Come, gather your bags of plants. I feel Eirik walking this way. Remember that I am here, but let us be quiet until we have private time to discuss the future."

I will defer to you always. I believe that you are even wiser than Britna. Eirik and I need that knowledge. Blessings certainly come in mysterious ways.

"They certainly do… now hush, little sister." Alison chuckled, so did Asta.

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I canna believe ye be here! Britna said, her eyes tearing. She pulled Asta to her breast, then reached out to Eirik and Sigmus. Sigmus clasped hands and kissed her. Startled, Britna stepped away from Asta. Ye be a welcome sight, my sons, but look so different after your travels. Ye be well? She kept her eyes pinned on Sigmus and thoughts hidden.

Seeing her intent gaze, Eirik spoke first. We are fine, Mother, but have a skraeling man traveling with us who be ill. Can we get him abed? He needs the warmth of the fire inside.

A skraeling? Britna questioned, eyes wide. She glanced from Eirik back to Sigmus.

Explanations must wait, Mother, Sigmus said softly.

Heads turned to Sigmus, but he failed to notice. He’d stepped back to lend a hand to Geir and Ketill as they supported Ktamyu up the steep hillside to the settlement longhouse. The skraeling chief’s breath rattled as Britna walked with them, pressing her hand to his cheek.

He has had high fevers? she asked, leading the men to the house. She stayed beside Sigmus, then stepped ahead to open the door. A wave of heat replaced the cold as she hastily invited them in. With the completion of their journey, smiles of relief washed across their faces.

Put him in here. Britna moved briskly to an auxiliary room adjacent to the main hall. Eirik exchanged a glance with Asta, then snatched a ladle of water to drink. Handing another to her, they sat by the hearth. Before he commented further, he looked over his shoulder, observing Britna’s path with his eye.

She takes Ktamyu to Father’s room. What of that?

I cannot think he will be obliging to a dark-skinned man taking his bed. Though her voice was as serious as Eirik’s, a faint smile turned the corners of her mouth. Britna knows what is best. She would never turn away someone who is ill.

"Aye, her heart be such that she sees no difference in men… but what of Sigmus? I ne’er recall him calling her Mother before. I swear, I know him not anymore."

You know him, as well you should, being brothers. He has finally become his better self. The goodness in the younger brother has amended his character. Asta leaned over and kissed Eirik’s bristly cheek, then she kissed him again. That one was for you, Alison. There was no reply and she nervously slipped out of her mantle and hung it on a hook by the hearth.

I think that I had little to do with this surprising reversal of character. ’Twas Kaarta. Bad it was that she died. Though the prospect of her falling ill at sea with a babe in her belly seems a real possibility now. Eirik tossed the ladle in the bucket with a splash.

Yes, the journey would have been difficult enough without the added burden of a coming child. Asta sat at Eirik’s feet and rubbed the muscles of her neck. I am weary of thinking, but fear why Britna is alone but for a few older men and women from the farmstead. Where is everyone?

As they glanced around the hall, a few women were engaged in the usual domestic chores, keeping the hearth fires tended, heating the cauldrons, and chopping onions and cabbage in the back corner. Mundane commonplace tasks that had an uncommon shade of gloom hanging over them.

Hunting, I would think. Days to forage be few. Father likely leads a search for game. Eirik put his hand on her shoulder. I remember a small room in back. Why do you not rest? Family tales of my father’s banishment will be heated. The loss of the farmstead will not set easily with Sigmus. Resigning himself to his disinheritance, will be difficult.

I cannot imagine all is really lost.

Before Eirik could respond, Britna stepped into the hall with Sigmus. They moved silently to the hearth. Britna patted Eirik’s arm, then ladled broth into a large wooden cup. Handing the vessel to Sigmus, she smiled and nodded.

Take this to your friend. We will wait for your return before commencing long explanations.

Sigmus strode from the hall, leaving Eirik and Asta alone with Britna.

Mother, you be well? Eirik asked as he reached for her hand. The men on hunt?

I said that I would wait for Sigmus. ’Tis not something to relate twice. Best I tell ye together, as it affects us all. Britna appeared serene, her amber-green eyes clear and face unlined despite the hardships of the past months. Her hand shook, however, as she busily adjusted her brooch.

Then we should wait till Father arrives from hunting.

Britna turned from the hearth and walked to the door, opening it wide. "When I saw the ships creeping through the fog—Dragon Horse and Wind Serpent—my heart cried out that I would nay endure this trial alone—my sons returned. She breathed deeply as if the air were a tonic to stave her heartache. Sigmus looks so much like your father when he was young. So strong, but wi’ a gentle quality now."

Sigmus strolled into the hall, glanced at Eirik and Asta, then stood with Britna. He draped his mantle over her shoulders as she turned and faced him. His smile made her smile, but tears came flooding quickly.

Mother, do not weep, he said, casting a helpless glance to Eirik. Nothing can be so bad. Eirik and I be here. Asta too. We have come to help rectify matters. We will stand together and fight against the Althing’s decision.

Britna stepped back and took Sigmus’ hands in hers. She guided him to the hearth, then motioned for him to sit with Eirik and Asta. Pulling up a bench across from them, she sat and folded her hands regally in her lap.

Oh, how to say what must be said, she began, her face suddenly paling. I be here alone, but for a few from the farmstead. I kent not what to do, because your father… he be dead.

Asta gasped and slumped onto Eirik.

Dead! Eirik said, voice low and hard. He started to rise, but Britna waved him to sit.

How? When? Sigmus asked.

After the verdict, we sailed here. Seas were bad. We lost several ships. Your father felt that he had lost everything of value. That he had nothing to give his sons, nor any love for me. He gave up to his defeat, simply walked away and died. Yet he could blame no one but himself and his fierce temper. I believe, he kent that in the end and couldna face himself.

What did he do, his crime? Sigmus asked levelly. Britna paused, then answered.

Drunk and angry, he killed a man. He and the man had words. Sigmus took his knife and slit the man’s throat from behind. Her eyes watered as she looked at Asta.

I am sorry for you, Britna, Asta whispered. Her heart reached out to her mother-in-law, but her pretense of mourning for Sigmus the Elder would be hypocrisy. He had been cruel to her too many times, unbeknownst to Britna, Eirik and Sigmus.

Britna’s gaze did not falter, but her lower lip began to tremble. Alas, Asta… my daughter by marriage. How can I tell ye this? ’Twas your father, Harold, whom Sigmus slew.

Silence fell like an arrow shot into snow. No one dared look at the other, briefly denying the truth. Surprise then gave way to credulity. Sigmus had hated Harold, bad blood had always been between them. The hearth fire sputtered as broth boiled over from the caldron. Still, no one moved. Finally Britna spoke, her next words coming shaky and thin.

Harold arrived at the farmstead, looking for ye. Her eyes held Asta’s in thrall. Sigmus told him Eirik had taken ye wi’ him to the Vinland camps for the timber harvesting. At first, he said nothing to the fact that ye be gone. By evening, however, he began ranting. He accused Sigmus of mistreating ye, then he let it slip the real reason he had come. He needed silver to buy more sheep and wagons. Britna swallowed hard, eyes focused, as if seeing the events again clearly in her mind.

Sigmus had been swilling ale all day. When night came and we supped, they argued again. Harold cursed Sigmus. Sigmus became enraged. Harold bore no weapon, so the guilt of the act was deemed murder. Sigmus took out his blade and slit Harold’s throat in temper and malice.

How long be Father’s sentence? Eirik asked. Harold unarmed and killed at night?

"Five year. The farmstead forfeited. Sigmus pleaded that ’twas nay his to lose. That the farm belonged to his son, who be innocent of his crimes. It meant nothing to those who presided. He was guilty and we would all pay. Sigmus’ pagan ways vilified him in the minds of those who sat in judgment. That he would nay accept the Christian church nor doctrine, also his crime.

Asta, I be so sorry for this. Harold was your only family. Britna sniffled and tears ran down her cheeks. I couldna stop what happened… I…

You could have done nothing, Mother. I know. My father came here to beg from Eirik. He was lost to his own vices of drinking and temper much the same as Sigmus. ’Tis no one’s fault. Asta shook her head. They were men of the same ilk. Forgive me that I malign the memory of the dead, but I know not what to think of this disgrace.

Eirik pulled Asta into his arms. I see no disgrace. ’Twas only a careless act. We will sail to Iceland and speak in defense of my brother’s property. It be his… no matter…

Nay! I want it not! Sigmus shouted, suddenly standing. Father lost it. Let his memory be that—for I want nothing from him, just as he wanted nothing from me!

Britna rose. Sigmus. Ye were his first born, his heir. He loved ye!

We ken that be false! He favored Eirik. Always Eirik!

I thought old grievances be settled between us? Eirik pushed Asta gently aside and stood, his face flushed and stance rigid. We will nay lose the friendship forged on our journey to the pettiness of our past rivalry. One provoked by our father, who can relish it no longer! Sigmus stepped forward, but did not respond with a barb.

We must not fight! Asta pleaded. We must form a plan for we cannot stay here. There is nothing for us but a life hard with misery!

Her emotional plea placated Eirik and Sigmus’ flare of temper. Britna smiled, and took Asta’s hand in hers. The stiff set to Sigmus’ shoulders slacked, and Eirik took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh.

Let us speak no more of this, he said. It has festered in Mother these many months, but ’tis too fresh for us to grasp sense of events and repercussions now facing us. We be tired.

Aye, Sigmus agreed. I will assist the crews. Get them fed and settled in the byres.

I will help. Eirik grabbed his mantle. Asta, if you could attend to Ktamyu.

Britna and I will sit with him. She glanced at her mother-in-law.

Ye hae come. My sons and daughter, Britna said, her voice stronger. Thank God, my prayers hae been answered. We be a family still, and a new life be possible. Let us not forget we hae each other in truth and love. Both of ye be my sons, brothers to the other. I ask for nothing, but that we abide this time peaceably together.

Mother, we will not let you down. Eirik nodded to Sigmus. Sigmus inclined his head.

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Britna nervously fussed about the small room and Asta watched her mother-in-law with fascination. She’d never seen Britna act so strangely. After Britna slammed the lid of her trunk for the fourth time and Ktamyu flinched, she’d had enough.

Britna, come sit with me. I was weary when we arrived, now I am even more tired from your fretting. Asta bid her to the bedside chair. Ktamyu was propped up to aid his breathing. His eyes were closed, but she knew he watched.

Verra well, my dear. Britna glided to the chair and sat, but noticeably averted her eyes from the skraeling. Asta did not miss her mother-in-law’s discomfiture and was puzzled by her odd reaction to Ktamyu. Had Britna never seen a skraeling?

We can move him out of your bed if you prefer.

’Tis nay the skraeling that has me so… so, beside myself. Britna glanced toward Asta and smiled. I hae too many questions wanting answers… and know not how to ask the details of the voyage. It be a mother’s shame to pry into the lives of her grown children.

I was beginning to think ’twas me, Asta said quietly, or the skraeling. I am sorry you have had to endure this tragedy alone. Then we arrive after many months gone—with a sick man who we deposit in your bed. Britna waved her hand over the bed, dismissing Asta’s concerns.

’Tis neither ye, my dear, nor the skraeling. Britna finally looked at Ktamyu. His unbound hair spread in black tendrils over the otter pelts, his naked chest beaded with perspiration from the fever. Even laying ill, he was a formidable presence and a handsome man despite his foreign features and coloring. Asta thought Britna blushed.

Ask me what you want, Mother. Though tonight Sigmus and Eirik will tell you their story. I would call it a misadventure, she huffed, recalling the endless days of worry, for we skirted disaster most of the time. God must have heard my prayers and yours. There can be no other explanation how we survived.

Britna wrung her hands. Perhaps ’tis best that I dinna ken such a perilous journey. Yet I be curious. If nothing else, what of Geisel? Did Sigmus leave her in Vinland?

With Alison quiet, Asta yearned to tell Britna every detail, wanting desperately the confidence of another woman. However, there was so much to relate.

I will tell you, she said conspiratorially, yet you must pretend that all is new when Eirik and Sigmus do their boasting of our voyage. Britna laughed, soft and melodic. Ktamyu opened one eye. Asta noted his interest. She’d seen that expression before, the first time he’d looked at Geisel. Britna noticed too. Her face flushed and she glanced away.

The skraeling must want sustenance. I will fetch more broth. Britna bolted from her chair and went into the main hall to the fireplace. She put more hot stones in the cauldron, then swiftly returned. Here, Asta, ye give it to him. I return anon.

Before she could object, Britna was out the door again. Her mother-in-law’s response to the skraeling, was one that she dared not make speculations about, but indeed it was curious.

"Not curious at all, Asta, Alison commented dryly. She is a woman, and by all accounts of the elder Sigmus’ reputation, she was probably mistreated by him as you and Sigmus were."

Oh, Alison. You speak. Thank you. Asta pressed the bowl to Ktamyu’s lips. He studied her, head cocked. Quickly, before Britna returns, what do you think of our situation?

"It is complicated. For years Sigmus has been envious of Eirik. How he will react to his loss of property, I do not know. What we do know—Eirik will stand by him, but Sigmus can be so unpredictable."

Alison answered Asta as best she could, but really had no idea of Icelandic law or what Eirik might be willing to do for his brother. Clearly, though, for them to stay at Sigmusbudir was not an option.

Damn, Sigmus the Elder, Asta cursed through her teeth. He brought us to this impasse. My father was an uneducated yeoman. When Mother died, he turned to drink. If she had lived, everything would have been different.

Alison recalled that Asta had lost her mother at an early age, too. She thought it interesting how circumstances ran parallel in their lives, still they were very different. Asta leaned over to Ktamyu and wiped the corners of his mouth. By the Indian’s expression, he likely thought her to be touched in the head.

"Asta, we must cease speaking aloud. This time, it was my fault, but I am afraid the skraeling thinks you are mad."

I am mad! Good and mad! At the men who do deeds of violence with no thought how far-reaching the effects might be on their families. Asta tilted her head toward the door. Someone comes. We will speak tonight when all are abed. Thank you, Alison.

"It is Britna who comes… and yes, Asta, I like her very much…"

How did you ken what I was thinking?

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Omitting her mysterious bond with Alison, over the afternoon Asta told Britna the events of their voyage as they watched Ktamyu sleep. Britna listened to the story Asta related, though was visibly shaken to hear of the stormy seas, Geisel’s treachery and the disloyalty of Sigmus’ crew. She reiterated time and again that their arrival at Sigmusbudir had been a miracle.

Despite the traumatic details, Britna was heartened to hear that the dissension between Eirik and Sigmus had been mended after years of adversarial conflict. She had often chastised her husband for coercing their competition, but had been proud that Eirik always loved Sigmus in spite of his taunting and derision.

Tell me of this skraeling girl who worked magic on my son, Britna asked. "I want to know more. He ne’er called me, Mother, till this day."

As Asta recounted the story of Kaarta, Britna listened quietly, often shaking her head and wiping her eyes. She’d loathed the day Geisel came into their lives, manipulating Eirik into her schemes, then Sigmus. But when Geisel caught the eye of Sigmus the Elder, she’d had enough of her wayward daughter-in-law. It had been her edict which sent Geisel to the Vinland camps for the timbering, perhaps if not for that they might have avoided misfortune.

When Britna expressed her guilt, Asta rallied to her defense.

Mother, you must not blame yourself. Think of it in this manner, Geisel would have betrayed Sigmus when he returned from Vinland even if she had not sailed with us. In the end, she would have done anything to rid herself of him and seek a liaison with Eirik.

Ne’er doubt Eirik, Britna said emphatically. He loves ye.

Who loves her? Eirik said, sticking his head into the small room. His smile was broad and his good humor brightened the talk in the room. Asta rose and bid him to enter.

We have been watching Ktamyu. His fever still comes, but passes quickly.

I suspect ’tis not only the skraeling you tend, but your own thirst for gossip. I could hear your tongues wagging through the door. He laughed, as Asta put her hands on her hips.

Go then about your business. As if you and Geir and Ketill have not wagged your tongues a time or two. Britna laughed at her daughter-in-law’s quick rebuff.

Children, she chided. I willna hae this contention. Not in a sick room. Leave this poor man to rest. Come, Eirik. I can tell by your eyes ye hae news… Then turning to Asta, she commented under her breath, been that way since he be a lad… the mischief in the eyes.

Aye, I have news. We head for Sudrland, Sigmus too. We will split equally the lands of Cairnby, our fortunes to be had. And it will be just as we planned, Asta… and Mother, you return to your girlhood home.

Asta and Britna both cried out, startling Ktamyu. Rushing to Eirik’s side, a hundred questions begged answers, but there was only one they wanted to know above all.

In a sennight, my ladies, he replied, squeezing them in his embrace. We sail then. Prepare yourselves. Lest I leave you behind on this forsaken ice bound island, letting the wild beasts pick at your bones! Asta and Britna laughed. Then you think the plan worthy?

"The plan and ye," Britna whispered, holding tight to her son.

CHAPTER THREE

W hen Sigmus did not return at nightfall to the stofa where he slept, Eirik went to search for him. Asta and Britna begged him not to venture out alone, but he would not be deterred. He knew his brother, so did not start out blindly. He had a fairly good idea where Sigmus had gone.

That had not eased Asta nor Britna’s worry. They waited by the fire until late, then Britna retired to her room to keep watch on Ktamyu. Asta had volunteered to do the duty, but Britna demanded she rest in the hall. On the men’s return, they’d be hungry and cold. Asta could have that chore, attending to their needs.

Yet as weary as she was, when she lay down her eyes refused to shut and her mind whirled with everything that had occurred over the day. Thoughts of her father’s death were the most unsettling. He had not been a loving parent, but an unforgiving man who’d berated her mother for not conceiving a son. She often speculated that he thought her responsible for Inga’s passing. When she’d become ill, her mother nursed her, then succumbed to the same sickness and died. Despite their estrangement, Harold did not deserve a bloody end to his life.

Purely by accident, Eirik had found her two years back and saved her from Harold’s abuse. Although her father never beat her, his stern manner and drunkenness made her youth isolated and unhappy. Then Eirik had come and transformed her life. He would never know her gratitude, nor the deep love she felt for him. So, she wondered what if she had been the one to drown that last day on the island? Would Alison be with him now, in her place? Thoughts always returned to the same fears, abandonment and loss.

If you are listening, Alison, I am sorry. Silence. This is unfair, she objected, I cannot hear your thoughts, but have no secrets of my own from you. Stomach knotting, she sat up on her pallet and took a deep breath. The hall was stuffy with smoke, and the pungent smells made her cough. She took a ladle of water and cleared her throat.

Speak to me, will you please. Still no words came into her mind, nor the soft voice in her ear that came as an audible whisper. Forgive me, Alison, but we need to discuss matters. She glanced around as if Alison might materialize. She did, in words.

"Yes, I know, but you are tired and I am still perplexed to answer you sensibly. I do not know why I can hear your thoughts and you do not hear mine… I have only a vague idea why I am even here. Perhaps answers will come as we spend more time together."

When we sailed home, where were you? Asta realized that when Alison spoke to her, calm prevailed. The smoky air did not choke her, nor was she fraught with worry for Eirik and Sigmus. Alison rose from the silence of her heart and hope replaced trepidation.

"I stayed in the corners of your thoughts. I do not sleep as you do, but can cease thinking, though it has taken much practice. As I said, I thought it best to stay away. I’d had a bit of a shock back on the island."

She didn’t want to drudge up with Asta those last hours on the island—the dreams nor the loneliness she’d felt as they sailed for Greenland—mainly how she watched Eirik, but couldn’t touch him. In the early dreams, Eirik and she had shared intimacies, at least she thought they had, but maybe she’d only dreamed she was Asta.

"I believe we can settle little tonight. You are worried where Eirik and Sigmus have gone."

"I had thought there might be some refuge in this remote place, but it seems a wife always has some predicament over which to fret. Asta subtly underscored the word wife with a flatter tone. Yet I understand that Eirik could not leave Sigmus to wander alone in his state of mind."

"Asta, I must say one thing to you and you must not rise to anger. I say it for your happiness and Eirik’s. You must take particular precaution around Sigmus…"

"Precaution? What foul thoughts! He is our brother and loves Eirik. He would never hurt me in spite of past transgressions. I think you harken back to the discovery of the necklace. He has apologized to me for that, numerous times. Asta tossed off her covers and stood. Well!?"

"I was not thinking of the past, but the present. Since Kaarta’s death, he leans on you too much. I sympathize with why he does, but you cannot be a replacement for her. He is confused because you were her friend. And perhaps the only one who understands his feelings. You must realize that he might unavoidably fall in love with you. He is half way there already."

I know Eirik has been irritated by his attentions toward me, Asta said more calmly, but Alison, I think of him as my brother. Surely he must know that?

"I have had little experience with men, but had one man friend pursue me, thinking he was in love. It went on too long. I failed to make plain my feelings, and in the end I hurt him. He was the only person that I could trust at the time, so I used his friendship for my own ends."

What has that to do with me? Asta glanced around to see the shadows in the hall move restlessly even in sleep. She’d spoken too loud.

"Do you not see that Sigmus is using you the same way I did Mark? He does not mean to hurt you, but he mourns the girl’s death. I did not intend to manipulate and hurt my friend, but I did. Sigmus grieves and this situation with his father—the forfeit of his inheritance and old emotions attached to Eirik—muddles his judgment. I believe that is why he left. Splitting Britna’s lands may be a temporary answer, but it is not a solution to heal Sigmus’ lost hopes and sorrow over Kaarta."

And Eirik and I are in the middle?

"Yes, little friend, you are definitely in the midst of his problems… and I fear I am to blame for much of this trouble… the skraeling girl’s death." For weeks, she had not faced the fact that she had withdrawn from the dreaming when Asta and Eirik needed her intervention the most. It had become a burden of conscience that was hard to bear.

That I do not understand. How could you be? Asta lowered her voice, distraught to think Alison could do anything but good works. To discover otherwise, led to the possibility that her angel friend might be aligned with the devil.

"Asta, I told you long ago that I am no angel, but am not from the dark side of your faith."

Alison chuckled when Asta’s face grew hot and she began pacing the hearth.

I have no secret thoughts from you, do I!? she railed, throwing her hands in the air.

"So sorry to laugh, but I did not want you thinking of me as evil. I am… was a woman as you are. Should I return and hide away? You are angry and too tired to continue."

Asta spun around, picked a log from the pile and tossed it onto the sputtering flames. She studied the fire blaze from blue to bright orange, but held her thoughts to block Alison from knowing her feelings. It was futile. Alison perceived everything and was perhaps right about Sigmus. Quickly she shifted the subject back to Kaarta.

Pray, stay and tell me why you think you were at fault for Kaarta’s death. Asta sat by the hearth and crossed her legs, waiting for the explanation after cleverly changing the direction of the conversation.

Alison realized that Asta thought Sigmus was a safe concern, so she dropped the subject for the present. Calmly she began her painful recollections of Kaarta and the dreaming.

"My dreaming of you began just after the storm. When the ships were beached in skraeling land. The dreams progressed as you sailed for the gold. In one dream, I heard Geisel plotting, and her schemes were that of murder. Near the end, the night Kaarta became sick, I had taken the small boat ashore with Eirik and Sigmus. I assumed the danger would be there."

She thought of Don Esteban. If it hadn’t been for his obsession to change the myth, she would’ve concentrated more fully on the entire situation and seen that Kaarta would be Geisel’s first victim.

"I should have anticipated that the danger lay on board the ships and stayed that night with you and her. Though I did not think that Geisel possessed poison to murder the girl. Of course, I knew she had coerced the men around her to kill Sigmus for his share of the gold. So, I should have guessed his relationship with the girl marked her as well."

You dreamed of us at sea for those many weeks, but did nothing to warn us! Asta shook her head, astounded that they’d been watched and spied upon. Alison’s account of events sounded so indifferent from her own recollections.

"At first, I did not have the ability to warn you, then… sometimes the dreams were muddled. I cannot explain right now…"

"You came to me