The Islands of the Blessed

“‘Retro! Retro!’ shouted Father Severus, trying to fend her off.

“She pursued him as best she could, but her feet were tender and she couldn’t move swiftly. Father Severus climbed into the rocks where she couldn’t reach him.

“‘I shall return,’ she conceded finally. ‘For seven days I shall return, and on the eighth I shall take you, willing or no.’ Then she wriggled back into her scales and swam off as swiftly as an otter.” 

Chapter Eight THE DRAUGR

The late morning sunlight flooded into the open door of the Roman house and woke Seafarer in his alcove. The bird hopped to the floor, stretching his wings experimentally and making little grunts of pain. “You can’t expect to get better in a day, my friend,” said the Bard. He opened a bag of dried fish and threw some on the floor. Seafarer, with one beady eye fixed on Brother Aiden, edged forward and snatched up the treat.

The monk’s mouth fell open in amazement. “This is true magic to tame such a creature.”

“He’s not tame. Watch your eyes,” warned the Bard. The monk recoiled as the albatross made a vicious stab at him.

“Take our friend for a walk, Jack, before he does harm. Aiden and I will prepare breakfast.” The boy sighed inwardly, but he knew better than to complain. The Bard could not be hurried and would ask Brother Aiden to finish the story in his own good time.

Jack and the bird walked along the cliff above the sea with Seafarer ahead, eagerly craning his neck at the bright blue sky. They sat down to rest after a while. The albatross screamed a challenge and a dozen seagulls tumbled off the cliff.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Jack said companionably. “There’s nothing like a good threat to start the day.” Seafarer burbled back. The boy could smell oatcakes toasting in the distance. “I’d like to see a mermaid,” he confided, “though I don’t know about marrying one. Seems like you’d drown if you moved in with her. How do you think she breathes underwater?”

Seafarer made a sound between a purr and a croak. Jack was almost certain it was an answer to his question. Suddenly, the bird gave a whoop and soared off the cliff. He almost succeeded in flying, but his bad wing collapsed and he dropped. Jack slid down the rocks as fast as he could. At the bottom he saw the bird staggering drunkenly over the sand, shrieking and clacking his beak.

“You idiot!” cried Jack. “You’ll ruin all our work!” And then he saw Thorgil running toward them. She was cawing in Bird and scattering her carrying bags on the beach. Presently, she met up with Seafarer and the two danced around each other in a frenzy of joy.

“Oh, Jack! You’ll never guess what happened!” she yelled.

“Skakki is here! My brother! He dropped anchor at the inlet where we left you and Lucy. He’s promised to take us to Bebba’s Town.”

“You say there’s a Northman ship anchored near our village?” said Brother Aiden, his eyes wide with horror.

“Skakki has taken an oath not to pillage us,” Thorgil said carelessly. “He might pick up a few slaves elsewhere, but I don’t see the harm in it.”

“No harm?” cried the monk. “Can you not hear the cries of children being torn from their parents’ arms? Is your heart made of stone?”

“We don’t usually steal children,” said the shield maiden. “They’re not durable, and anyhow, the market for brats is poor.”

“Stop needling him,” warned the Bard. Thorgil grinned evilly and fished an oatcake from the ashes. She held out a tidbit to Seafarer, who took it carefully. He had become wary of hot things.

“Has the whole crew returned?” said Jack. All at once a great longing swept over him to see the Northmen again.

“Most of them,” the shield maiden said after cramming her mouth with oatcake. “There’s Skakki and of course Rune, Sven the Vengeful, Eric Pretty-Face, and Eric the Rash. Schlaup is new. Eric Broad-Shoulders was eaten by trolls.”

“Oh, my,” said Brother Aiden.

“My foster father, Olaf One-Brow, tried a slice of troll once. He said it was nasty.”

“Thorgil!” thundered the Bard. “Don’t make me turn you into a frog.”

She laughed and helped herself to another oatcake. Jack was delighted to see her so happy. She had apparently forgiven their quarrel in the hazel wood, for she’d greeted him with warmth. She had, as he’d suspected, fled to the beach. Once she began walking north, it seemed reasonable to continue. The waves calmed her mind and the smell of the sea raised her spirits. After a while she cut cross-country to the old Roman road and found her way to the inlet.

“Skakki never believed I was dead,” Thorgil said. “Early this year he returned to the beach where he’d left me and saw my runes carved into a tree. When he couldn’t find me, he guessed I’d gone to the only place where I might find welcome. He’s much bigger. I thought he’d had his full growth, but he’s practically a giant now. Like Olaf.” A shadow crossed the shield maiden’s face.

“So he’s willing to take us to Bebba’s Town,” said Jack, to keep her from brooding.