The United States of Vinland Box Set Read online

Ballr arrived beside the women, followed by Eskil, as well as Steinarr and Samr. The men let fly with another round of stones as the beast disappeared into the gloom down the beach.

  Steinarr growled after it, “Markland is ours, not yours, ragged beast!”

  Lightning flashed, and a heartbeat later, a loud clap of thunder hammered the air, as if punctuating the end of the encounter.

  Eskil laughed. “A land that is indeed ours, given to us by the gods themselves; first Odin this afternoon, and now Thor, to protect us by calling us together in a moment of need.”

  Gudrid smiled. “Godsland it is, and that is what you called it earlier.”

  Eskil nodded. “Godsland, indeed.”

  Halla turned back to their camp, the tent aglow because of the fire, reminding her of their meal. “Oh, the fish!” She hurried to check on their food.

  Gudrid chuckled and followed.

  Eskil turned to the other men. “Drifa and Manni will draw back the beast. We need to tend to them now.”

  Steinarr offered, “We can bury them with stone. They need a cairn.”

  Ballr gave a nod. “You are right that it cannot wait, although it is a shame we lack enough timber to build a pyre. I think that is what they would have preferred.”

  Eskil said, “Anything, over flame or under rock, would be better than being feasted upon by that ragged beast.”

  The men agreed.

  Eskil announced, “We have plenty of rocks, so a cairn is what we will build to mark their passing.”

  Torrador and Erik soon returned to join in the toil.

  As they worked, gathering loose stones to pile atop the two bodies, Ballr said, “This is no burning ship, nor blazing pyre, but still fitting in its own way, as they shall live on in this new land by joining the soil.”

  Eskil nodded. “Those are fine words. Let us hope their burial brings their spirits peace.”

  The others agreed.

  Before long, it was done.

  The men returned to the tent and a meal of fish, which they hungrily devoured. Divided eight ways the food did not stretch far, but it was enough.

  After they ate, Steinarr shook out a cloth he had rolled up, its importance clear only when it was unfurled and free. He stood there proudly, letting the firelight show its truth – a black raven, on a blue field – the banner salvaged from their wreck. He announced, “The raven flies over Godsland, having beaten off the wolf!”

  A cheer rang around them.

  Erik the Dane laughed and offered, “We need something to drink!”

  The others murmured in agreement.

  Steinarr nodded and offered the banner to Eskil.

  Sharing a smile, with Gudrid beside him, Eskil stood and took the banner. “A drink would be good, but that will have to wait for another day. For now, let us celebrate that we sailed under the raven, the symbol of Odin, who delivered us here. We came looking for a new home, one free from the influence of the White Christ and rising kings, and we have found it. Together, we will build a great land to honour him!”

  They called out their agreement.

  Chapter 3

  -

  Godsland

  Exploration and discovery, under cool and mostly dry skies, filled the next few days. In that time, it seemed the wolf was unwilling to face them again, although they often found fresh signs of its passing. Those days also brought sorrowful moments often paired with hope: The bodies of three more of their crew were found, along with the half-eaten remains of some of their livestock; three drowned and savaged sheep. They also happened upon more salvage, including a chest holding a small iron axe – and that, at least, was welcome.

  Much of the debris from their ship was close to the site of their beaching, but the farther west they ranged from the runestone, the better the land. With every step they took from the open sea, the more the low, rock-studded hills, along the windswept and stony coast gained shelter from the nearby islands edging a broad channel that seemed to funnel them towards the fjord’s mouth.

  Away from the beach, areas of the hills often revealed sheltered gullies with pastures, streams and even struggling copses of trees. They were unlike the steeper, western shores, where the fjord cut into Markland’s rugged interior. But they were close, and more welcoming than the harsh land about the runestone.

  They also noticed how the shore curved around, beginning to head north. Eventually, when another channel ran into the one beside them, they realised they were on a large, sea battered island at the fjord’s mouth. The slopes and vales across the water were tighter and deeper, with occasional woodland-cover. It looked to be not only birch and willow, but also taller timbers such as pine and larch. To see this range of terrain and timber was a comfort, even if it was unreachable – at least for now.

  The island promised to be a harsh place. Thin soils hid under the turf, but improved in the gullies, similar to those inland along the fjord. The summer weather was cool, as was the water, but they had expected Greenland and the adjacent new lands to be as such. The long, white winter would be their real challenge. Nonetheless, the vales, woods and pastures they saw about them had potential.

  They spent their second night at a more sheltered campsite featuring deep stone overhangs, along one side of a gully, as well as several small caves. Here they feasted on the meat from the sheep carcasses they had recovered, and smoked what they could of the rest.

  Eskil spoke as they sat around a noisy fire fed by driftwood and timber gathered from a nearby copse. “It looks as if we have found all we are going to, in the way of survivors and salvage, though we must keep watch for whatever else may come. Yet, a question remains. Should we stay on this island or take to the mainland that from a distance looks promising, with better pastures and thicker woods? If any of you have concerns on this matter, now is the time to voice them.”

  No one immediately answered since they were busy with their mutton. In truth, Eskil had planned it that way; he wanted his people to consider their words carefully.

  Halla spoke first, not surprising anyone, as she had again worked to cook and serve, and was still cutting her own portion of meat with one of their few blades. “What of the wolf? If we are on the island, then so is the beast.”

  Eskil nodded as others murmured their own concerns. After swallowing a mouthful of meat, he said, “The wolf is a danger, I agree. The huge beast looked crazed and half starved. Perhaps it crossed ice to the island during the winter and became stranded at the thaw. Regardless, we will need better weapons, as one wood axe, a few knives and a generous supply of stones may work against the wolf when we are together, but not if any of us are caught out alone. We will have to watch for signs of it, to see if we can find its lair. As for our meagre arms, we need to improve them, since they will not do against the skraelings.”

  “Skraelings?” Torrador asked with a frown.

  “They may not be on the island, but we know they are in Greenland and also most certainly in Vinland. Some must be nearby, even if they are in the depths of the fjords. Eventually we will run into them.”

  Halla finally sat, with her own serving of meat, but instead of eating, she asked, “How would we stand against them?”

  “We are too few to wage any meaningful war with them, regardless of how many of them Markland hides. For now, we must be armed and ready as best we can, and that means creating a home we can defend.”

  Gudrid spoke up. “Staying on the island may keep them at bay.”

  Eskil smiled at her with pride, for she was right. “For a while, at least.”

  “Should we work to build a boat and sail for Greenland,” Erik asked, “thus seeking the company of our own kind?”

  “They are giving themselves to the White Christ. They are no longer our kind!” Torrador snapped, drawing sharp nods of agreement.

  Eskil agreed. “That is reason enough to stay here, on the land Odin chose for us.”

  Steinarr sat beside his younger brother, Samr, both men nodding as they ate. The older man swallowed some mutton before saying, “We will need to build a boat in any case – and eventually a ship.”

  Gudrid answered him, “Yes, we have the skills, but the tools are gone, stolen away by the sea. We could still build a ship, but such a thing would take more time than we can give it before winter settles in.”

  Many of them considered her words before turning to Eskil, who gave a nod. “While we lack the tools to easily make a ship capable of crossing to Greenland or back to Iceland, we will be able to create them in time. We first need a boat for the local waterways. And we need to consider the winter, for it will be long and harsh.”

  Steinarr shrugged. “Winter will be hard, but it is almost two full seasons away.”

  Gudrid grimaced. “If we had Manni or Leif here with their tools and skills, we might finish a ship over summer, but not by ourselves. It will take longer. At the same time, we will need to be hunting and gathering food, as there is no farm yard here to harvest.”

  Eskil nodded, pleased with how sound a thought it was. “Yes, we must consider our other needs as well.”

  “We need iron,” Steinarr grumbled. “A few knives and a poor wood axe will win us no skraeling war.”

  Erik the Dane agreed. “We will not find iron on this island. In order to make the tools and weapons needed to defend ourselves, we will need to go to the mainland and find a bog that will provide the necessary metal for smelting.” Murmurs of agreement rose from the group.

  Eskil announced, “So, Godsland is our home for now.”

  Many about the fire nodded.

  Gudrid said, “You men have spoken of our need for weapons, and for that I should not be surprised. But we also need to build up a store of foods and better shelter. We arrived here in early summer, so none of us
know what the winter will be like; it would be wise to plan for it to be long and hard, perhaps worse than in Iceland. It will be a hungry and barren time. If we do not work on gathering stores now, we will starve before we face any skraelings, despite how many weapons we have.”

  Halla called out her agreement around a mouthful of mutton.

  Eskil nodded at his wife, for she raised a good point; it would only be prudent to assume winter would come on strong. “We will winter on the island, in the most sheltered site we can find. We will also have to hunt down the wolf if it stays near, lest it come upon us when we are at our weakest, in the depths of the snow and ice.”

  He received a chorus of agreement.

  “While we prepare for winter, we will also work to build a hall able to handle the worst the gods can throw at us, and one defendable against a great wolf or skraeling attack. At the same time, we will begin looking for food to preserve, whether it be fish for drying or nuts, roots and grains.”

  Steinarr asked, “That might do for winter, but what of the iron we will need if we live to see spring?”

  Eskil smiled, beginning to warm to the plans brewing in his mind. “We will have to go to the mainland and discover what it can offer. For that, we need to build a small boat, and once completed, no one crossing the water will go unaccompanied. We also need to locate a bog for the smelting of iron for the making of blades and tools.”

  They all agreed, and then their gathering fell silent.

  After a pause, Torrador asked, “And what of those still missing? Are they all dead?”

  Eskil dipped his head a little before answering, “The sea has taken them. For whatever reason, the gods have seen fit to give only those gathered here this second chance. While we should mourn their loss and honour them for having the courage to make the crossing, we must also respect the opportunity given to us. We will labour to make ourselves safe and to survive the coming winter, but during the depths of that long season, we must also plan for spring and perhaps a move from Godsland, to a better site if one is found on the mainland.”

  Torrador was downcast at Eskil’s words, his gaze going to the fire and thoughts of his missing wife.

  Seeing this, Gudrid cleared her throat and said, “We do not know the plans of Asgard, as surely as we cannot say for certain our friends and fellow crew are dead, though it is likely to be true. What we can say is that we need to survive, to build and grow, to create something here to not only honour our gods, but also ourselves, and our lost loved ones.”

  Torrador raised his gaze to meet Gudrid’s sympathetic eyes, a smile of gratitude finding his lips. He was not alone, for all sitting around the fire had lost friends, and many of the men lost their wives.

  Eskil let Gudrid’s words sink in before he added, “Let us give thanks to our gods, all of them, but particularly Odin and Thor, for they have both had a strong hand in giving us this chance at life in this new world. Let us also give thanks to each other, that we are here, and remember those who are missing from our fireside.”

  Together they called their thanks into the night, not toasting it with drink, but celebrating with juicy mutton.

  ***

  The next days passed as they finished checking over the island for any better sites for their winter home. They also gathered wood for the making of spears and fuelling the cooking fires. At the same time, discussions ran amongst the men on how best to create a small boat that could take them across the chilly waters of the sound. After Manni’s mortal wounding, none were in a hurry to chance the dark waters without a vessel.

  While all this went on, they watched for the giant wolf and its lair. The island may not have been huge, but it was large enough that they were not able to check every gully or grove. But they did find more signs of it, including numerous seal bones around shallow caves on the island’s rugged northern coast.

  Halla and Gudrid, meanwhile, planned what they needed for winter, and Ballr and Erik worked on what was left of the larger timbers from the shipwreck, preparing them for reuse. Soon, they decided to winter where they were because they found no better site. So Eskil, Torrador, Steinarr and Samr began cutting turf to build a wall that would enclose the stone overhang and small caves of the gully at their current campsite.

  Everyone worked on the hall.

  As the turf walls rose, built like so many halls in Iceland and Greenland, differences in the building emerged.

  A single door would open at one end, into the main hall, and a long hall, similar to those they had left behind in Iceland, would be centred around a warming fire pit.

  Eskil pushed for the biggest difference: to make the most of the natural overhang since it was strong and would save them much labour and time. Enclosing the space, but including the caves at its back, gave them a large main hall, with a chamber stepping up, and the two smaller caves that ran off that and could be used for stores.

  Amidst such toil came a great discovery by way of Samr and Torrador:

  Back near the runestone, while constructing a raft using their preciously salvaged rope and larger pieces of seasoned timber, they had discovered hoof prints.

  They were both convinced the prints belonged to sheep.

  Excited, the two men followed the meandering trail until they also found fresh droppings.

  Had some sheep survived the shipwreck?

  Forgetting their raft, they immediately switched to tracking the animals, knowing life might be much easier for their people if they could count on such things as sheep’s milk and wool – and perhaps, one day, another feast of fresh mutton.

  With little caution, the two men hastily followed the trail.

  Samr called out to Torrador, “Come! I can hear her bleating from here!”

  It was a joke of course, for the only sound about them, so often the case on Godsland, was the wail of the wind and rhythm of the sea’s swell.

  Torrador answered, “And what if it is not only one sheep, but two!”

  They followed the tracks, meandering through the pastures along the shoreline, before climbing a hillside, moving away from the runestone but back towards the new camp about half a morning’s walk away.

  The path put them amongst the hills behind the eastern coast of the island, a place not as rugged as its northern shore, but more barren because whatever tried to grow there – whether pasture, brush, stunted trees or hills – had to contend with the constant winds of the sea and the fury of its squalls. This was a landscape with little shelter, and as the two men followed the trail, they realised it was also no place for sheep.

  But they continued the chase, occasionally coming to a stop where the tracks would cross a stream or pass over rock, leaving them to search for where the tracks began again.

  On their sea crossing, like so many others who had come before to settle new lands, whether Iceland, Greenland or the Faroes, they brought not just themselves, but seed, livestock, and the tools to build a new world. Fourteen sheep and three cattle were on the ship. So far, similar to the way it been with their lost fellow settlers, they had accounted for well less than half their number. The sea had given up the bodies of three sheep, but still others were out there, most likely dead, but perhaps alive, as these tracks suggested, and that gave the men hope.

  Following the trail as it cut along a gully, Samr grinned and yelled out to Torrador, “You are not thinking of milk or cheese, or wool or mutton!”

  Torrador laughed. “What else could I be thinking of?”

  “That you are about to meet your new wife!”

  They both laughed, but the comment also struck at something deep inside each of them. Samr, for all his humour, had lost his wife in the landing squall, as had Torrador, and while they said little about the loss, they both still ached from it.

  What hope did either of them have of finding a woman to marry in Markland?

  Such a thing would not happen, not until they had a ship to take them to Greenland.

  Torrador called back with a grin, “I would take the wolf as a wife, not some old sheep. Then perhaps Gudrid would have some fiery company!” as they came to a bend in the gully,

  Samr laughed. “She already had one argument with your wolf-wife and she won, remember?”

  “Indeed she did.”

  Both men then froze when they heard the bleat of a lone sheep.

  “She is near!” Samr exclaimed as he launched forward.