Valknut

CHAPTER|22 Reunions

All was as it should be. They had landed at Rognvaldsey a sennight ago. Since it had been during the day, they moored several miles off the coast till nightfall. And then they waited a few hours more, just to be sure. The festivities had taken its predicted toll. All defenses were down, guards were drunk more oft than not. None had expected company – especially not this kind of company. The island had been weakened already with part of their army traveling to Pictland. With the festivities… they had been ripe for the devastation he had brought with him. 

An evil grin laced his face as he dug up the memories from a week ago. The shock, the screams, the blood. Bodies littered everywhere. The satisfaction he had felt. The familiar stirring inside him. Yes, the onslaught had ended quicker than he had anticipated, but it had been fun nonetheless. The way he and his men had run through Rognvaldsey killing everything in sight, the feel of warm blood spilling over his hands as his sword sliced through people. Oh what fools they had been! It had been too simple. All he had to do was use the ships stationed north of Rognvaldsey to gain entry into the Meginland. And the guards had let them through. They had believed distressed villagers were seeking shelter. Like wolves in sheep’s clothing they had been. They sent the women and children out of the ships first, screaming unintelligently at the guards. The chaos and confusion that followed gave his men the opportunity they needed to slaughter the guards before they could call for help. The rest of the island had fallen just as quickly as Rognvaldsey. More farmers than warriors these foolish people had been. 

An evil laugh escaped his lips as he made his way down the stairs. The familiar stench of everything dead or rotting blanketed him. It reminded him of home. His home. The tiny chambers Fergus had given him in the dungeons. This was his home now. It was bigger, it was better! Two whole islands under his rule. Was there even a reason to return to Fergus? He had everything he wanted right here. Land he could call his own. People he could terrorize. No pesky shriveled man to challenge the way he wanted to run things. His awful secrets could now find their way out and none could... or would dare to stop him. 

Pleased with what he had accomplished, the Dark Knight strode out of the castle. He had things to do today. Oh yes, today! Today would be a pleasant day. Today … he would get his revenge. 

“Bring th' prisoners” he hollered at the nearest guard. The man bowed low before scuttling off towards the dungeons. 

Outside, the Dark Knight made his way to the longhall. The dais was still standing from the festivities from a week ago. He grinned. This would be the perfect place for his vengeance. He made his way to the platform, dragging a chair with him. The dais that had served as a temporary altar for the Norse God, Njord, would now be his throne. He would be worshipped. Exalted. Feared! He embraced the dark feeling that flowed through him. He was finally, omnipotent! 

Yes, all was as it should be. 

Before long, three prisoners were presented to him.  Sir Connor, Lady MacShane, and Catriona. A week in the dungeons had suited them well. They looked thin, weak, subjugated... broken. The lass still had a small fire burning in her eyes. That detail had not escaped his observation. Not for long, he thought as he sneered at her. 

He nodded to the guards that had escorted the prisoners from their cells. All three prisoners were forced apart. Connor remained standing in front of the Dark Knight while both women were being dragged to the cages erected in the center of the bailey. 

*********** 

“We are home” Olaf said to Kieran. Sverting had reported to him just a few minutes earlier that the men had spotted land. Throughout the escape attempts at Pictland and the long journey home, Kieran had remained in his trance. His eyes seeing, but not seeing. His ears listening but nothing much was registering. His motions like clockwork, but holding no meaning. He was an empty shell. The turmoil Kieran felt, radiated off him in waves that dispirited all that ventured near him. 

Hours and hours of talking to the boy, but still being unable to get through to him, had frustrated Olaf to no ends. Sure he felt the same anxiety as Kieran. Sure he felt the same concern for the safety of those he had left behind. Sure he wished that one morning he’d wake up and this would just be a nightmare he would brush off. But that didn’t change the fact that they still had a lot of work to do. If the rumors about the Dark Knight were true, reclaiming their lands, saving their people would be a mammoth task. He knew, although he wished otherwise, that he would probably not see Catriona alive. It had been five nights since they had escaped. Much would have happened in that time. Now was not time to be weak. Now was not the time to be wallowing in self-pity or any other emotion that would render them weak and cloud their minds. The time for regrets and mourning would come later. 

Olaf shook his head and walked off when Kieran’s reply was a blank stare. He had better things to do than babysit a grown man that couldn’t overcome his fears. 

He walked back to Sverting and Klaufi. Quietly they whispered between themselves. It was clear that they needed an element of surprise. Although they had an idea of how many men accompanied the Dark Knight, they had no estimate of how many had survived. They could only assume that the men on the two islands would have put up a worthy fight and reduced those numbers dramatically. 

Olaf grunted and paced back and forth as the three men deliberated on the best strategy. Come nightfall, they needed to prepare to take back control of the Meginland and Rognvaldsey. To split into two forces, dispatched to each of the two islands seemed the least favorable option. Thankfully, they agreed on something. Everything else was still under debate. 

Come nightfall, they would sail as close to shore as possible without risking discovery. Barely 120 able men, tired from two weeks on the sea and several days in dungeons was not the ideal army Olaf needed to make this work. With few weapons and even less armor at their disposal, the odds were definitely stacked against them. Discovery at this point, would be fatal to their attempts. 

From what Olaf remembered, Kieran had followed his instructions for defending the Cliffside castle perfectly. If the Dark Knight maintained a small force of well-equipped men, it would make the castle impregnable from sea. They needed another entry. A place less conspicuous. An entry spot so risky or so impractical, that the Dark Knight would not consider defending it.  

“The loch” Kieran whispered. All eyes turned to him. Olaf grinned. The boy was coming to his senses. And what perfect timing! All chatter ceased as they waited for Kieran to continue. 

“We were digging canals from the loch for irrigation. The men stumbled upon an underground cave network during their digging. From the North East islands, we could swim to the cave and make our way into Rognvaldsey undetected. I was going to have the tunnel network sealed, but never got the opportunity.” 

For the first time in almost a week, the men felt their anxiety lift. The difficult part was now not quite as impossible. They had ease of entry into the island! Once at the Loch, it was a half-day’s walk to the castle. They could dispatch the army stationed at Rognvaldsey before moving to the Meginland.