Tides (Time of Myths: Shapeshifter Sagas Book 3) Read online

  When Eilish was called on to climb above deck and have her turn, she set down the bailer and did as she was told. She kneeled before Leif, avoiding eye contact. His fingers moved across her head. Before long she heard him mutter under his breath, “Neinn.”

  She hoped that was the word that held the protection she needed. Leif said something to the other man. Instead of getting the soap scrubbed against her hair, the shears were brought near her head. Eilish pinched her eyes shut, preparing for the worst, when she noticed the man’s forearm.

  A festering wound peeked out from under the leather cuff he wore on his wrist. Forgetting herself, she reached up to pull his arm closer to get a better look. He grunted as she said, “You are injured.”

  The man’s heavy hand landed and tightened on her shoulder. She sucked in a quick breath. Eilish was afraid to move. She lifted her eyes to Leif, who stood beside the two of them. He said one word she understood: “Geyma, Agnar. Healer, læknir.”

  Eilish nodded, and remembered to lower her voice this time. “I am a healer. I can help.”

  From across the other end of the boat, the Allmaster shouted at them, and Leif called back. She wondered if the man whose arm she held was named Agnar. Eilish barely recognized her deepened voice and used it again to speak to the injured man. “Are you Agnar?”

  He gave her a short nod, and she ventured to take another quick breath. She looked up at Leif, hoping he’d understand. “How long has the wound been like this?”

  Leif’s green eyes narrowed, but it was Agnar who surprised her with a clear answer. “A week or more.”

  Eilish looked at the painted man and pressed her fingers around the swollen wound. The skin was bright pink around its seeping center. Agnar clenched his jaw as blood mixed with an opaque fluid. She thought of the nettle leaves her father had put in her leather pouch and knew he needed something else for his wound. One item she used to seal and heal broken skin was easy to find around the farm, but she wondered if she could find it on a boat. But she needed something else, too.

  Eilish asked Leif with her newly adopted male voice, “Do you have water?”

  He nodded and held out his leather drinking bladder. Before she started she told the painted man, “This will hurt.”

  Agnar’s jaw flexed, and he lifted his arm to her. “If it will help—”

  She poured some of the clear liquid over his wound. She took a quick breath and ignored the man’s grimace while she cleared the dying skin and unhealthy discharge away. Fresh blood began to flow from the week-old injury. She poured more water over his arm again. It needed fresh blood to flow no matter what, even if she could find spiders under the decking or not.

  “I must search for cobwebs under the planks,” she explained to both men. They frowned at her. She wasn’t sure if they hadn’t understood or if they had and questioned her meaning.

  Eilish lowered herself into the cargo hold. The open hull at the center of the ship where she’d been working only a short time ago held a few caskets and crates, which likely held their food and drink for their journey. Her leather shoes and feet submerged into the water at the base of the ship. She climbed over one of the wooden crossbeams so that she could peer under the bow’s deck into the shadows.

  Back on the farm, it was hard to go far without finding a spider, but here it might prove more challenging. The Allmaster began to shout again, and she tried to ignore the voices above her, presumably questioning what she was doing. She brushed her hands above her head against the planks. Along the seams, her fingers searched for the familiar snag from the silken threads until she felt it. Fearlessly, she swept her hand around, trying to collect as much as she could, praying she didn’t capture a spider with poisonous pinchers along with it.

  She emerged with her hand out. The sun illuminated the cottony thread wrapped about her fingers. A black body with eight tiny legs dropped away, catching the breeze and floating to the mast of the ship.

  Skeptical and curious eyes watched her, but she paid no heed, for the cure was near. She rose to her feet and took up Agnar’s arm again. Leif stopped her with a frown on his face. She recalled his words when she’d prepared herself to run from the ship, frightened of the unknown. Eilish said firmly, “I do what is best for him. Trust in me.”

  Leif’s eyes studied her closely. So closely she worried he’d discover her secret. But he let her continue. She unfurled the surprisingly strong thread from her hand and pressed it onto the bleeding wound. She knew it would need to be held in place and remembered the binding around her chest. That thought was immediately replaced. Her safety was more important than that of a Finn-Gall’s. However, having value was a necessity, so she bent down and tore a strip of fabric from the bottom hem of her oversized tunic.

  Before she was able to wrap it around Agnar’s arm, Leif pulled his friend near. The blood that had been flowing from his broken flesh had stopped. Leif glanced up at her and muttered, “Is it an enchantment?”

  “Only a spider’s home,” she answered. “A cure that has been passed down from my kinfolk as long as time.”

  Leif let go of Agnar and shouted to the Allmaster. She didn’t know what was said, but the other crewmen’s expressions changed. Disgust and indifference were replaced with wonder—at least on a few. The Allmaster’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her while she bound the injury with the scrap from her tunic.

  She didn’t understand why, but Leif muttered under his breath, “My father does not like power which he cannot use for himself.”

  Her hair, having been entirely forgotten, was allowed to continue to hang like a curtain in front of her face, and without needing to ask her name, Leif announced to the crew, “Aiden, inn læknir.”

  From the other end of the boat, the Allmaster was clearly ready to have everyone’s attention back on him and had already dismissed the fact a healer was on board. He cocked his head to the side while he continued to grip the handle of the steering oar. His lips curled into a sneer as he yelled to everyone. Echoing after the man, Leif spoke the slave’s language with a frown. It seemed this was not the first speech he’d interpreted. “The man before you is Ragna, Jarl of Suthreyjar, kin to Ægir. A man who has been blessed by Odin himself. You will serve him dutifully and without question, or you will be replaced like the men before you.”

  Leif paused as Ragna stopped and pointed at the sea. Then, the Allmaster continued to speak, and so did Leif. “We do not bury the bodies of unfree servants. We call on the Kraken to trap their spirits at the bottom of the ocean.”

  A chill traced down Eilish’s back. She didn’t know what the Kraken was, but it sounded like the merrows her father told her about. The other new slaves, Cormacc and Ronan, seemed just as concerned as she was. Eilish looked about the ship at the other, more experienced slaves’ faces. Hardened, knowing expressions were affixed there, making her concern deepen.

  “Only men who are strong and spit in the face of terror will live to see another sunrise. And you will see things that will bring you fear, but always remember—never cross him, never run and never disobey.” Leif rendered the Allmaster’s words for them. “Unfree servants who show loyalty can earn their freedom and be adopted by our family, like Agnar. His place, like yours, is by Ragna’s side. This is your new life now.”

  Eilish wondered where her father was. Had he found a better future than her? She hoped so. Although fear bubbled up in her chest, Leif’s last words echoed in her ears. This is your new life now. They should have unnerved her more, but they didn’t. The only way to survive was to accept it. At least at present.

  Eilish didn’t know how long she would last amongst these frightening new masters, floating on the sea. She would do her best to stay alive until it no longer seemed like the better option. As long as she could keep her identity hidden.

  They continued to sail within sight of the coast. Seagulls flew overhead on the same air currents that carried them across the water. The movement of the boat turned her stomach as if it were a child r
olling down a steep hill in summer grass. She kept herself from emptying her belly over the edge of the ship as Cormacc and Ronan had done, though she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to keep herself from bursting. It had been far too long since she’d found an opportunity to relieve herself in private.

  Eilish wondered where they were being taken and for what purpose. She supposed she would find out soon.

  She returned to her bailing job, something that gave her a small amount of comfort. Her back and shoulders had long grown tired of the movement, but still, she paced herself and pushed on.

  Every time Eilish came up to pitch water over the edge, she took a moment to observe the changing scenery. The sun had drifted lower in the sky, and the men around her grew busy while the sailboat was directed toward land and the sounds of seabirds’ calls. They approached a grassy hillside that sloped to a narrow beach.

  It looked similar to the place she called home, although she knew it couldn’t be the same place, for after the raid of the Finn-Gall, she’d been taken a full day’s travel from her home to the place of Black Pool, the first town she’d ever seen. Though she was inexperienced with seafaring, she knew that a boat could move farther and faster than any horse could, and they’d sailed the remainder of the day. Eilish doubted that she would ever find her way home, even if she escaped or was given her freedom.

  She took the threat to her life seriously. As happy as she was to see them approach land again, she could appreciate the swords and axes that were strapped to the freemen’s belts. At some point in the near future she might seek her own death, but she was not there yet. Eilish was wary of drawing the Allmaster’s wrath, for even though she had never witnessed it, she believed him to be the sort who might relish it, and she wanted to keep him from that sort of enjoyment.

  She watched as they brought the boat right up to the beach. It took half the men on board to take the sail down. Cormacc and Ronan cast the large curved piece of metal, something she learned was called an anchor, over the edge. Provisions were gathered by the Finn-Gall and handed off to the unfree servants so they could wade through the water and take them to the sloping hillside. Once all of the necessary gear was carried off and they reached the top of the knoll, the men hurried around to set up camp.

  Each crewman laid out a leather sack in a circle. One of the servants produced food, and she was handed dried meat. Eilish accepted it, not knowing when she’d be offered another meal. Her stomach was still unsettled from a day of rocking on the ever-rolling sea. She wasn’t ready to take a bite the way the men around her were doing.

  Leif and Agnar stopped to take a sip from their drink bladders and share a few words. She listened to them speak, trying to recognize a pattern and coming up short. The Allmaster shouted at them, and they responded, “Já, Ragna.”

  They glanced at the setting sun and shared a few words before pointing at her and Cormacc. Leif said, “You will come with us to get firewood.”

  She tucked her uneaten jerky into the leather pouch that hung from her belt and stood up. Cormacc adjusted his woolen cloak around his shoulders before meeting the men at the edge of their camp. Eilish noticed both Leif and Agnar had axes hanging from their sides.

  Both freemen turned around and walked inland toward groves of trees. The sky was cloudless and glowing blue. The sun was just touching the horizon, offering only a short amount daylight until the heavens darkened into a deep cobalt tapestry for the stars to shine. Thin columns of smoke rose in the distance, revealing where farmhouses were located. Families likely sitting together, sharing a meal before tucking into bed and preparing for a new day. Something she could imagine herself doing if she hadn’t been captured by the Finn-Galls.

  “You come with me,” Agnar said, rousing her from her thoughts. He pointed to a cluster of thick-trunked trees with bushy boughs. He walked with a long spear, using it as a walking stick, but she knew it was much more than that. She followed him across the field, noting that Leif and Cormacc were walking in the direction of a nearby thicket. Maybe she would find the opportunity to relieve herself in privacy.

  When they reached the closest tree, they discovered a large branch hanging from above. It was still attached by twisted fibers, although many of its leaves had paled and lost all signature of life. Agnar set his spear beside him, pulled his axe from his belt and swung at the threads that attached the limb to the trunk. It took him little effort before it flopped to the ground.

  While he began chopping at its thickest end, Eilish bent and twisted the smaller dried branches from its length, making a pile. After he severed a log from the bough, Agnar paused, breathless. “Thank you for tending my wound.”

  Eilish looked up at him, holding twigs in her hand. She had to remind herself that she needed to act like a young man and cleared her throat so she could lower her voice. “You are welcome. It should heal quickly now.”

  “There was a healer near our farm from our homeland, but I have met none other before.”

  She pointed at the dark pattern that wrapped his exposed shoulder and neck and asked, “Did the healer treat your skin?”

  Agnar’s cheeks lifted into a dimpled smile, and he laughed. “There is nothing the matter with it. Through our travels I met a man who could paint a warrior’s skin so that it would never wash off.”

  Eilish could not understand why one would want to decorate themselves like that, but she chose to say nothing more about it so she would not upset him. She was very curious to learn more about Agnar. The Allmaster had said that he’d earned his freedom, which meant he’d been an unfree servant as well. Besides his painted skin, he looked and acted like the other Finn-Galls on the boat.

  She asked, “Where were you born?”

  He lifted the log on its end and swung his axe at it, sinking the blade in. He lifted the wood, still attached to his weapon, and pounded it down upon on the ground, splitting the stem in two. “I was born from a servant on Ragna’s farm in lands far to the north of here. A place we have not returned to for eight long years.”

  “Do you miss it?” She thought of her own home, trying not to fill with sadness. She retrieved the cut firewood and added it to the growing pile of kindling she had made.

  Agnar swung again at the long tree branch on the ground, chopping off another segment. He grunted. “I do, but I have grown used to the thought that I will never see it again. And now I am a freeman and can take up a place of my choosing with a wife, if I can afford the bride price.”

  “Can you?” she asked.

  “I should have enough after this season, if luck is on our side.”

  She noticed his wistful expression. “Have you set your sights on a woman?”

  The painted man stopped to catch his breath and look onto the field where Leif was pulling branches from a thicket with Cormacc. Agnar shook his head and answered, “She is the woman of my dreams, but I would not leave my friend. Though I was a servant, he always treated me as a brother. He is a man of honor and the one to whom I owe my freedom. It was he who labored on his father season after season, convincing him that I worked harder than even his kin and that if he freed me, I would become a symbol to the other servants so they would remain loyal. Neinn, as long as Ragna requires that his son remain by his side, I will stay with Leif.”

  Eilish dropped another dried branch on the pile and frowned. “Leif is Ragna’s son? But they look the same age of twenty—how can that be?”

  Agnar’s expression hardened and became unemotional. When he looked at her, she worried she’d asked one too many questions of someone above her stature. He may have once been an unfree servant like her, but he was no longer. He squeezed the handle of his axe tight and stared at her. “Leif is a year my senior at twenty-six years, and though he does not look it, Ragna nears fifty. You can depend on this—you will see unbelievable things while in service to him. Although it is true Ragna is someone to fear, and it may seem his son is cut from the same cloth, if you put your trust in Leif as I have, he will
look after you, for that is what a man of honor does.”

  Eilish remained quiet as she thought about what he’d said. Even though the painted man had told her more than she’d expected to hear, she could tell he was done talking. He’d taken up swinging the axe again and was focused entirely on chopping firewood. Its sharp echoes rang across the terrain.

  While she walked about the tree gathering up other sticks for their pile, she looked at the darkening landscape around her. The dusky light made elongated shadows over the hedges. Perfect for hiding in.

  As though reading her mind, he grunted, “Survival through loyalty, not cowardice, that is the way.”

  He bent down to gather up the chopped remains of the branch and called her over. “Put out your arms so I may give you a full load. I wish to be warmed by a fire before falling asleep tonight.”

  Any thought of escaping into the night was dispelled. This man spoke of honor and loyalty, two words used with great reverence. If this freed servant was so faithful to his friend, maybe he spoke truth, and he should be heeded. Besides, the deepening twilight brought a chill to her skin and a fire did sound appealing.

  She felt her stomach rumble in hunger, a sign the rocking boat was a distant memory. She hurried to Agnar’s side and held out her arms to receive a bundle of firewood. Eilish waited for him to gather the remaining sticks and branches before leading the way back across the field toward the campsite. Leif and Cormacc walked ahead of them with their arms full.

  When they arrived back, the Allmaster made a sharp comment Eilish couldn’t understand. The firewood and kindling were set on the ground, and without being told she busied herself at the circle of stones that had already been laid out. It had been her task to build the hearth fire since she was old enough to light it without burning herself. She knew it was considered a woman’s task and that she was trying to hide as a man, but it was clear to her that she was the slightest fellow on the crew, something that didn’t appear to get past the Allmaster or the elder man who never left his side. She’d felt Ragna’s eyes on her, appraising her value, and she didn’t want to be found lacking.