Fault (Book 1 of the Vikings Series)

Chapter 12

We sail into the harbor several minutes later and start loading tons of material onto the ships. That's when I see them. Tarben and Gunnar walk among the people, swords in hand. They head straight for Östen's ship, weaving their way down the short dock. I glance up to the helm and Vern gives me a small nod of reassurance. It helps, but not much. I search around for something to do and start coiling a rope.
Tarben's large boots thud on the wood as he climbs the short set of stairs to meet Vern. I move casually towards them to hear their conversation.
"Next port is Gamgin. Stay close at night and hang back during the day. It's not worth catching the attention of any Saxon ships," Tarben instructs.
"And the maps again?" Vern asks.
“Yes, but we may have to fight our way in," my father explains. Another pair of footsteps ascends to the helm. I glance up to see Östen greet both of them.
"Tarben, brother. You don't waste time when we are gone," he laughs. The two friends greet one another as if nothing has happened. Like two men chatting over a mug of ale.
"You mistake your role as irreplaceable," Tarben chuckles.
"Hardly. You are still alive," Östen responds. Both of them laugh for a few moments.
"Tell me of Havredal," Tarben requests.
"Havredal is well. Although Singrid did mention that something happened involving Limerick."
"Raid?" Gunnar asks.
"Fire," Vern responds.
"Boys, go see that the rest of the haul is loaded up."
Vern and Gunnar disappear over the edge of the deck onto the docks but I stay to listen to the conversation.
"That's not good," Tarben says quietly.
"I wouldn't worry," Östen chuckles. "Singrid can handle herself."
"I don't doubt it. It's the aftermath I'm worried about."
"I don't understand why you are so concerned with this, brother," Östen mutters. I glance up at them to see Tarben lean close to his friends face.
"Never underestimate Thorgar," Tarben hisses. My eyes widen. Thorgar! I've seen that name before. It was on the map of Antrapar. "The house of Thorgar," that's what was written in tiny letters on the map.  I had left it hidden safely under the small mattress in the bunk room. I back away too quickly and trip over a box, landing on my injured arm. The pain makes me want to scream but I'm quickly preoccupied as scramble back to my feet. I fly down to the docks and sprint towards the village. Out of nowhere, someone grabs my shoulder and spins me to face them. Vern.
"What are you doing?" He questions in a hushed tone.
I glance around to make sure no one is paying attention to us before responding.
"Elin, listen to me. You can't go back in there," Vern says sternly.
"Why not?"
"These are.. Dangerous people."
"Vern I can handle a couple people," I hiss.
"You got lucky today, I'll give you that. Please don't push it."
"You think I just got lucky?!" I exclaim. Vern shushes me. "Thorgar!" I say quieter.
Vern bites his lip.
"Who is it?" I ask.
"I can't say," Vern looks pained. I roll my eyes.
"Of course you can't," I turn away to stomp back to the ship but decide I'm not done with this battle just yet. "But I'm starting to think that you just won’t.”
“Elin, I-” Vern starts.
“No. Just forget it. I’ll figure it out anyways and I don’t need your help.”

We turned the village to our rudder early that morning and everyone headed to the meal room to celebrate the haul. The routine begins once again as if the Raid hadn’t happened. I sit up on one of the deck railings and stare out over the flat sea. Ahead of us, the flagships sails in the distance carrying half of my family. Family that has no idea where I am. The only one who has any clue that anything is remotely wrong is Singrid, and she won’t be able to do anything about it. I lean over to get a better look at the convoy of ships and the sea breeze hits my face, pushing my greasy hair back in the wind. I breath the salty air and allow myself a moment to grin at the peacefulness around me. Peace. I almost chuckle at the thought. Peace on Raid, that just proves how far from reality my emotions are.
Someone taps me on the shoulder and I spin to see Welch staring down at me.
“What are you doing? No time for watching the waves around here,” he crosses his arms. I start to leave but I stop as he bursts out laughing. “Geez, you new people would listen to anyone.”
He hands me a small flask and leans along the railing.
“How’s the arm?” Welch asks. I shoot him a confused glance. He slides towards me and whispers into my ear. I take a drink from the flask as an excuse to look away from him.
“You can talk to me, Elin. Just try not to laugh all girly like,” he teases. I roll my eyes.
“Vern told you?” I ask.
“Don’t get mad at him. He just doesn’t want you getting hurt, which brings me back to my first question. How’s the arm?”
I sigh, unhappy that my secret seems to be spreading more than I’d like.
“I’ve felt worse,” I shrug. Welch stares intently out over the ocean, still not looking at me.
“Alright, where’s the speech?”
“Huh?” he asks.
“The ‘what are you doing here’ speech?”
“I don’t need to give you a speech,” he laughs.
“That makes one person so far,” I mutter.
“Well what did you expect? Flowers? A welcome banner? You’re on raid Shorty, it’s not all fun and games.”
“Is any of it?” I wonder.
“Sometimes,” Welch shrugs.
I roll my eyes. “Shorty? Is that my name now?”
“Well since you came up with such a depressing name, yeah.”
The sound of metal on metal snaps my attention away from Welch. Across the deck, Briar and another man have their swords drawn.
“Learn your place boy!” the older man yells. His blade meets Briar’s again. Welch and I leap up but he goes running down into the hatch, probably to go find Östen. I watch the fight from behind the mast. It’s obvious that Briar is out skilled. The other man swings and catches my friends arm with the tip of the blade. Blood immediately starts pouring down his arm. The man looks happy with the damage he’s inflicted but Briar seems angrier than ever. He launches himself at the other viking. I look around for something to stop them. A shield sits propped against one of the crates. I grab it and rush towards them.
“Get out of here!” Briar shouts. The other man seems happy to be done with the match and backs away. Briar groans with effort and spins his weapon towards me. I throw the shield up, completely shocked. I glance over at Briar, eyes wide. His chests heaves and blood has already stained most of his shirt. Briar drops his sword and grabs the side of the shield, throwing it across the deck. He brings his fist back to strike again. Out of nowhere, Vern slams into his side and they both go rolling to the deck.
“What are you doing?” Vern yells. Briar staggers to his feet.
“I don’t answer to you,” Briar hisses. “And you,” he points a finger at me. “Fight your own battles.”
I take a deep breath as Briar brushes past me.
“James, what happened?” Vern asks the man.
“He needs to learn when to shut his mouth,” James responds.
Vern glances towards me with a look that's only purpose is to make sure I'm ok. I give him a small nod, though I'm practically frozen in place. What had happened to make Briar so angry?
"James, you're at the helm. Everyone back to work!" He commands. Vern disappears beneath the deck.
"Thrall," James says. I glance up at him. "There's hardly a line between bravery and stupidity."
"Aye," I mutter.