Valknut

CHAPTER|18 Panic!

Brian departed from Kieran’s chambers the way he had come, barely a half hour after his introduction to Olaf. Both men sat in silence looking at each other as they began absorbing what Brian had shared with them. Fergus knew. Fergus was waiting. The Black Knight was headed towards Rognvaldsey! 

Keiran couldn’t think. The alarm bells going off in his head were simply too loud. He should have stayed. He should have listened to his mother. Guilt washed over him and for an instant he was six again. He hadn’t listened to his father and that had cost him everything. Now he hadn’t listened to his mother. What would this mistake cost him? He barely registered Olaf shaking him vigorously trying to make Kieran focus on the present. 

He couldn’t breathe. He felt suffocated. He had to run. He needed space. Wide open space! Air his lungs screamed AIR! NOW! He hadn’t even realized that he had stopped breathing. Olaf’s broad hand connected with Kieran’s jaw, the pain from the contact snapping him out of his panic. Terrified eyes met Olaf’s. We must leave this instant his brain screamed. But his mouth wouldn’t form the right words. It couldn’t. Mither! He thought. Catriona! 

Dear Gods! What have I done? Was the only thought screaming in his head. 

Olaf strode out the room hollering for Sverting to bring some more ale. Ale was definitely needed now! “Where was Klaufi? Why hadn’t he returned? By Odin, I will skin that man alive for taking so long,” Olaf promised himself. 

“Ale where’s th' damned ale”, he growled under his breath. Olaf turned to Kieran. The lad hadn’t moved. His eyes staring into emptiness. His face was shrouded in utter despair. Olaf rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This wouldn’t do. This just wouldn’t do. So Fergus knew, that didn’t mean they needed to draw suspicion to themselves. They were in the fishing village, not the castle dungeons. Escape was still possible. Only if the lad would just find his senses. 

“Where’s th' damned ale”, Olaf grabbed Kieran by his forearms, pulled him to his legs and half dragged, half carried the boy to his chambers. He sat him in front of the fireplace and left, making sure to lock the door behind him as he went in search for Sverting. He didn’t want anyone stumbling across Kieran in his state of shock and he did not want Kieran walking off and doing god knows what! 

As he rounded the corner and began descending the stairs, a commotion snapped him from his thoughts. The clink of armor was quite distinct. As he listened, he heard footsteps – lots of them. Almost like a marching army. Instead of thundering down the stairs, Olaf listened quietly. 

“The witch’s brew worked. they're all asleep. Grab them, grab them all.” 

Olaf stood frozen. A trap he thought. My men. He looked back at his chambers unsure of what to do. Part of him wanted to grab Kieran and run. Part wanted to fight for his men. How would he fight a whole army by himself? Would he make it back to his room in time to grab his battle axe and shield before he was found? Could an element of surprise be added to his favor in this situation?  

Fergus wanted Kieran that much Brian had told him. What if he hid Kieran? Could he return for his men with Kieran safely sheltered elsewhere? Would it be too late then? Could they get off this godforsaken land by morning? What’s happened to their ships? Surely Fergus wouldn’t leave them an escape route. Without the ships, they’d be stranded at McDermott’s. 

 Klaufi…. sadness filled him. Had he sent Klaufi to his death? Is that why the man hadn’t returned? What of the men that went with him? Were any of them alive? Barely covered in armor, and no weapons? He shook his head. He knew well enough to have hope. His men, as great as they were, as bloodthirsty as they were, they couldn’t stand a chance when unarmed and facing a full army. There was no telling what had happened! Oh how he hated not knowing! 

For now, the best option seemed to be denying Fergus what he sought. Quickly he made his way back to his chamber. He locked the door behind him and turned to Kieran. They boy was still lost in his nightmare. Olaf growled. He ran towards the crates and tore through the fur cloaks. Digging all the way to the bottom, he retrieved his battle axe and his shield. He grabbed the next crate and dug at the bottom for whatever weapons lay there. He threw a sword across his shoulder, hung another at his waist and donned a fur cloak to hide it all before strapping his shield to his back. He grabbed another sword and shield for Kieran. 

A groan caught Olaf’s attention. As he stood up tall, battle axe shifting in his hand waiting for whatever enemy turned up first, the wall next to his fireplace shifted ever so slightly. Two hands came out from the opening, nudging the wall further open. Olaf sighed with relief as he recognized Brian’s form. 

“Quick grab Kieran, they're here for us”, He said to Brian. 

Together they helped Kieran stand and dragged him to the secret passageway. The wall shuddered to a stop just as the door to Olaf’s chamber flew open. Loud footsteps filled the room as Fergus’ army marched in. 

 “Clear” a voice said. 

“Check the other rooms. I want this whole place searched for the missing men. Ye will not rest till ye find them! 

Olaf and Brian stood behind the wall, listening quietly. No one dared to breathe. From the corner of his eye, Olaf tried looking at Kieran. The darkness made it impossible to see the boy’s face. But he knew Kieran was lost in his thoughts. His fear for his mother. For Catriona. For Sir Connor and his people. 

When the footsteps were gone, Brian ushered them down the cold winding steps to the opening at the end. He turned to Olaf and put a finger to his lips. Olaf nodded, his fingers were white from clutching his battle axe tightly. What he wouldn’t give to sink his axe into someone’s head this minute! Brian quietly moved the curtain of leaves aside and stuck his head out. He gave one sharp whistle before ducking back inside the passageway. 

Seconds passed, but to Olaf they felt like hours. The wait was going to kill him. Brian refused to speak. His face unreadable. Could Olaf trust this man with his life? With Kieran’s? Were his loyalties where they should be? Even after all these years? Did they shift like the O’Sullivan boy’s? Did he barter with Fergus as well? Was the earlier incident a façade? Did he bring Fergus’ army to surprise his men while he distracted Olaf and Kieran? What of the ale? Did it have the witch’s brew mixed in it? What a turn of fate that he hadn’t had any! 

As he heard horse hooves nearing, Olaf’s free hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Brian shook his head at Olaf and walked out. He returned a minute later with two hooded cloaks, and McDermott army tunics and leggings. As Olaf changed his clothes, Brian wrapped the second cloak around Kieran and drew the hood over his head. This Norse outfit and hair needed to be done away with lest someone recognize them. 

Quietly all three men stepped out of the passageway. Brian led them to the horse drawn cart and ushered them inside the hay it carried. 

“My man will take ye to a safe hiding place. I will join ye as soon as I have some news. Ye will be safe. I owe the boy's father my life. Trust me” 

The two men looked at each other. Olaf decided he could be trusted. He nodded and joined Kieran in the cart.