Fault (Book 1 of the Vikings Series)

Chapter 20

I wake up to the gentle lull of the boat. Instantly, I snap up and push myself onto the dock. Where are we? The village in front of me is far bigger than the trading village.
“Briar, Welch,” I call back into the boat. No response. I look back down into the small vessel. No one’s there.
I sprint down the long dock past several larger ships. The village is quiet, almost too quiet. I run along several dirt streets, finally coming to the mountain that boarders the village. A small path runs along the side of it. Someone stands at the top, barely visible in the dawn light. A girl. Her long hair blows in the wind
“Who’s there?” I shout. The girl giggles and retreats further up the path. I rush to follow her. Finally, she stops at the top of the bluff and faces the harbor. The morning sun shines on her blond hair.
“Elin?” I ask, now standing only a few feet away. Elin points down at the ships. A large pillar of black smoke rises up from one of the boats.
“Our ship! What happened?” I ask her. Elin finally turns. Her eyes are glossy. She doesn’t look at me. In fact, she doesn’t even seem to notice I’m here. I take both of her arms.
“Elin, I finally found you,” I smile. Her skin is cold under my touch. Elin pulls out of my grasp as if I wasn’t even there. She takes a couple steps right to the edge of the bluff. Elin holds her arms out into the wind and leans forwards.
“No! Elin!” I lunge toward her but it’s too late. She falls forward, over the edge. Finally, she seems to hear my call.
“Vern!!” Elin shrieks.
My eyes snap open and I jump to my feet. My breathing is quick, almost ragged. The sticky air smells heavily of salt mixed with hay and is hard to breath. I lean against one of the barn poles and try to calm down. The barn is silent and a small ray of sunshine seeps through a hole in the roof. 
“We’re still in the barn,” I breath. Last night we’d found a small loft and claimed it as our temporary home.
There’s a noise behind me and someone stands up.
“What’s wrong?” Welch whispers. I run a hand through my shaggy hair and try to come across as less traumatized than I actually am.
“Vern, what’s up?” Welch asks again.
“I think I’m going crazy,” I admit.
“Well I could’ve already told you that,” Welch laughs.
“Try insane,” Briar say, standing. A bunch of straw is still stuck to his cloak and he tries to shake most of it off. “At least in Antrapar we might have a bloody cot,” Briar complains.
“Yeah, we might be dead to get it though.” I jump down to the ground from the loft and Welch is right behind me. He lands almost on top of me and pushes my head down in the process. Briar’s feet crunch down in the crisp straw.
“Don’t worry chief, I hear they have the best of beds in Valhalla,” Welch says.
“Come on, we need to get out of here before someone sees us,” Briar pulls the door open.
The village is quiet and only a few merchant carts are set up. I pull the small sack of money from my belt. The coins jingle around as I toss it to Welch. He opens it.
“Geez, so this is what it’s like being Östen’s son,” my friend gawks.
“Östen gave me none of that. Took it off one of the warriors in Gamgin.”
Briar snatches the money from Welches hands. “And you still think you’re going to Valhalla,” he mocks.
“Coming from the one who attacked Elin,” I mutter, louder than I had meant to. Briar turns on me.
“Don’t start. I didn’t let her get taken to Antrapar.”
“Stop it!” Welch comes between us. He grabs the coins from Briar. “If we’re going to Antrapar we don’t have time for this.”
Briar and I glare at each other for a moment longer before I break away and follow Welch.
By that afternoon, we have the ship loaded up and cast away from the docks. I stand above our small map table. A piece of parchment is laid over it with several cities sketched in. Briar maps our course and Welch is at the helm.
“Do you think we’ll make it?” I ask quietly.
“We don’t have a choice,” Briar replies. “It’s not like we’ll be welcome back in Havredal, even if we knew where it is.”
I shake my head and take a small marker. Carefully, I trace my finger back to Gamgin and follow it back to the small cove where our village is located.
“We can never forget where Havredal is,” I say, more to myself than to Briar.
“You know Tarben won’t let you come back. Probably not us either.” Briar glances over at Welch who still doesn’t take any interest in our conversation. I finger another marker, not really sure what to reply.
“I’m not concerned about Tarben right now,” I try to end the conversation.
“Aye!” Welch shouts. “Dark clouds,” he points to the horizon.
This journey will definitely go down in my memory as one of the most terrifying adventures I’ve had on the sea. The closer we sail to Antrapar, the stronger the gale becomes. The storm seems to blow up around us, completely hiding the sun in a matter of hours. Waves are pushed up and over our deck. Briar takes the helm and Welch and I scramble to keep the sails from ripping to pieces in the wind. I yank on the scratchy rope and tie it down. The rain pelts down onto the deck stinging my face. I squint my eyes past welch into the sea. A huge wave is coming towards us.
“Welch! Get down!!” I yell. Briar tries to turn us but it’s too late. The wall of water crashes over the deck and sends me sprawling to the deck. A few feel away, Welch is thrown into the side of the deck. He lands with a thud that makes me cringe. I scramble towards him. He pushes himself into a sitting position and starts coughing salt water from his mouth.
“I hate the ocean,” he grumbles. I manage to laugh before another wave hits the side of the ship.
“Vern!” Briar bellows above the storm. A large clap of thunder drowns him out. I jump to my feet and grab the large wheel that Briar struggles to keep from spinning. “We’re going to be at the bottom of the ocean if we don’t find shelter from the bloody storm!”
“Oh, shelter? That sounds like a brilliant idea,” Welch shouts from a few feet away. His words are barely audible.
“If the storm didn’t turn us around land should be that way!”
Briar points out across the sea. I let go and the wheel spins a few notches before I grab it once again. Another large wave sweeps over the deck. I huddle behind the helm, holding tight. There’s nothing we can do but wait until we see shore. Either that or the mast will snap and we won’t have a choice where we go.