Winterfire

Chapter Four

 Lucan

One by one, the other captives became friendlier to me, I guess mainly because the Danes seemed to like me and the captives wanted to be in their good graces. The more popular I became with the Danes and the other men from Beal, though, the less popular I became with Wirt. He never passed by me without shoving me against the gunwales, or elbowing me in the stomach if he could manage to sneak it in without Ingmar noticing. I tried to avoid him, but I still went about my business braced for a hit.

At all times, I was aware of the sword’s presence. I wished I hadn’t seen Ingmar putting it into the chest; then I’d know if I felt the attraction because of some quality inherent to the sword or if I felt it just because I’d seen it stowed. As it was, I knew its location and I felt the sword’s draw. I told myself it was nothing more than curiosity and tried to put it out of my head.

The Danes were pleased when they had several days of good weather in a row, and though to me and the other captives, it meant a much-needed rest from our exhausting toil, we soon became more anxious in our idleness. “Where are we going?” hissed Ryce as he crouched with Brother Wilfred, Brother Bede, and me in the bow. “I’ll jump ship before they make me a slave.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Brother Wilfred. “When this weather turns, I mean to be back in my garden.”

“Do not give up hope, men. We must pray for deliverance,” said Brother Bede. “That is all we can do.”

I agreed with Brother Bede at first. Really, what could I possibly do to escape these men? But then, a curious change began to take place within me.

Gradually, in the weeks before the lull, I had begun to lose my appetite, even for the meager rations provided. Rather than trying to sleep, I’d taken to staring out over the frigid, black sea toward Beal. I thought of my mother’s calm, peaceful face, the way she’d been before the never-ending winter started. I thought of my little sisters, and hoped they were alive and playing in the woods, just as I did when I was a child. I even thought about Dell; I wished I’d tried harder not to be such a disappointment to my big brother. Dell was only trying to take care of the family. I hoped I’d have the chance to make it to him someday.

Most of the time, though, whether I was hauling the oars, hoisting the sail, or talking to the other captives, I was thinking of Lif. I thought of her wavy black hair, the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her lightning-bright smile, of course, but then odd remembrances of her began to come into my mind: the slimness of her feet, her purposeful walk, the sound of her voice saying my name. We’d never been apart before, so I’d never had the chance to miss her until now.

I was homesick and heartsick, constantly mooning over my losses. Because I was not eating or sleeping, I was growing weaker and even more despondent.

During that conversation with Brother Bede, I had a sudden realization: if I were going to rescue Lif - and I was - I had to be strong and ready when the chance for flight presented itself. Violence and aggression had separated us, and most likely, would have to be employed to reunite us. We were not just going to somehow wander back to each other. I would have to fight to get to Lif, and she would have to fight to get to me.

My behavior changed immediately. I felt charged with purpose. I wanted to be as prepared as possible to face the challenges before me. I forced myself to eat whatever the Danes offered, and I lost any misgivings regarding stealing from them, at least where food was concerned. I couldn’t force myself to sleep, but at least I could lay still and breathe slowly. In order to drive the images of Lif and my family out of my mind for just a few hours, I began imagining walking through a beautiful forest with Lif. I compelled myself to hear the winds whisking through towering pines, to pick the mushrooms growing behind a rock, to hop across the slick stones of a brook. I had been falling into a kind of lethargy, but the knowledge that I would eventually be called upon to act woke me up. Brother Bede said all we could do was pray, but I knew I could do more.