Fault (Book 1 of the Vikings Series)

Chapter 8

"What?!" I hiss. "How far out are we?"
Saga boosts herself up again to see outside. In the same moment, a large wave thuds against the side of the boat. Saga grabs the railing above, loosing her footing on the ladder. I'm not so quick and fall to the ground with a thud. Up above, I see someone grab Saga's forearm and pull her up onto deck. Slowly, I creep up the steps to get a better view of what's happening. Vern stands a few feet away from her, arms crossed. A voice shouts something from up on the rigging and Östen swings down onto deck moments later. Seeing both of them here together suddenly reminds me of their rings I have in my pocket. Crap, I think to myself. Why didn't I just leave them in Havredal?
Even after their short stay in Havredal, they all still look exhausted and wind blown.
"Saga?" he questions. "What are you doing here?"
Saga looks casual, as if she's been questioned for doing this a thousand times.
"I wanted to see what the ship was like," she says cooly. I'm not sure if I've ever seen Östen so angry. He paces a few steps and stops, completely ridged.
"You know Tarben doesn't allow any women on Raid!" he explodes. Vern jumps right into his role as peace keeper.
"Father, what's the harm? Tarben doesn't have to know she's here."
One of the other men walks down from the helm.
"I say we bring her back to Havredal! It won't serve any of us good going against the chief," he growls.
"We can't turn back. We're already going to have a hard time getting back to the fleet," Vern says. I'm surprised he would dare cross the helmsman. Still, Vern stands in his shadow without an ounce of fear. A large group of at least thirty men have now gathered to watch the spectacle.
"Father, please. I didn't intend to be here, I swear it. But Vern is right, we shouldn't turn back. There's only one reason that rule exists and it's not me," Saga begs.
Östen scrunches his face in frustration.
"I'm sorry, my dear. Rules are rules," Östen says sternly. Saga looks uncomfortable with her father's attitude and Östen notices. His demeanor changes and he offers Saga an embrace that she gladly accepts. Östen whispers something into her ear and she smiles brightly.
"Get us back to the harbor," Östen commands. The boat shifts it's direction back to the harbor immediately. The bluff comes into view. Based on the wind, I assume we slow down. I disappear below the staircase, not wanting to risk being seen. There is no way I can stay in Havredal. Not even if it means being the only woman on Raid.
When I crawl up the ladder maybe an hour later, the gale rushes at me. A few men stand around the deck and the ship once again sways with the waves. That was it then. No turning back.
Suddenly, Östen appears on deck and turns towards me. I duck underneath the hatch. I jump down the staircase and huddle behind it in the relative darkness. I can't be seen now. Not when I'm so close to getting out of Havredal.
Östen descends the stairs and heads for the map room. Slowly, I creep down the hall into a small room and close the door behind me. Two sets of bunks line the walls but other than that, the room is void of any furniture. A large leather bag sits atop one of the beds and I untie the cord to get a better view of the contents. I pull out a small journal and flip it to the first page and instantly recognize the handwriting. Vern. Not good. I stuff the journal back into he sack and slide out of the room. The deck creaks down the hall and I move swiftly in the opposite direction. I heave the door at the end of the hall open and gently close it behind me. Instantly, I realize where I am. A small chuckle escapes my lips.
"The brig," I breath.
Of all the places I could wander into, the brig would have to be my choice. It wasn't an awful choice, however. It was divided into three sections, an empty corridor where I now stand and two vacant cells. Chances are it would stay empty until the first attack, save a few crates of weapons.
I stay there most of the day, wallowing in misery. It had only taken about three minutes of the ships rocking to make me completely sea sick. The constant rocking and creaking of the ship does nothing to help the cause. After what feels like hours of nothingness, I finally start feeling well enough to unwrap the twine that holds the map of Antrapar. As soon as I see the first etching, I realize that Antrapar isn't any small village. By the scale in the corner of the map, at least five times bigger than Havredal. Could this be the answer to all the secrets that haunt my life. All the mystery I have begun to uncover all seems to lead back to one place, Antrapar. To be completely honest, the thought makes me even more sick. I curl up into a ball in one of the corners and try to sleep.