Blood Eagle: A riveting historical thriller Read online

  I returned my attention to the vessel, which would soon be so close to Orvar and myself that I could easily spot who was in it. Unfortunately, that meant the people onboard could spot us as well if they made a point of looking, which surely they would. I nudged Orvar and said in an undertone, “We better try to make ourselves as small as possible. Let’s lie down.”

  We lay down flat on our stomachs, oblivious to how damp the ground was and how sharp the tall grass was. I pressed myself against the cool soil, desperately trying to disappear into the ground. The ship moved so quietly it seemed as though it existed merely in our minds. It was so close now that I could see the two men standing in the stern, discern their faces. Much to my surprise, they were both strangers. Two other men sat down in the vessel, but since the sail hid their upper bodies, I couldn’t see who they were. Strangely enough, neither of the two standing men seemed overly concerned with scanning their surroundings. The one to the left, who was blond and much smaller, told the other something. The bigger man burst out laughing, and then he turned around and said something to the ones sitting. The ship was very close now, and any moment it would pass me and Orvar. It looked like we were about to make it unscathed… But just as I was about to let out a tiny sigh of relief, the vessel slowed down abruptly. Soon, it had stopped moving altogether, as if someone behind the sail had cast anchor. I froze. So had they seen us all along then? Was that why they had been laughing so, because they were coming to get us?

  One of the men threw a small wooden raft into the water on the same side we were lying. It produced a loud splashing sound. I turned and stared at Orvar. Based on his frantic expression, I could tell he was thinking what I was. What should we do? We had better not stand up and run in case the men hadn’t spotted us and were just taking a break from their trip. Maybe the crew just needed to relieve themselves behind a tree, just like I had. If we remained very still and quiet, maybe the men wouldn’t actually ever spot us… After all, the grass grew fairly high. Then again, if they had seen us, we should try to reach the trees that rose like a dark green wall behind us to get a head start. Two men descended onto the raft.

  I decided that it was more likely the men had spotted us and were about to come get us than not, only acting so calm and aloof not to alert us of their true intentions. We should stand up and run for our lives this very moment. I turned my head met Orvar’s eyes. He remained as panic-stricken as I was. Determined not to let the panic get to me, I whispered almost without sound for us to stand up and run. Orvar nodded. Counting silently to three, we got to our feet. But right as I was about to turn around and run, I caught a glimpse of the third person coming down on the raft. It was a girl—a girl who looked exactly like… Hilda. I stared at her, unable to move.

  “Come on, Leif. Let’s go!” Orvar urged, his voice panicked. At the sound of Orvar’s call, the girl and the rest of the men on the raft turned toward us. The girl’s eyes met mine.

  “Leif!” she said.

  She even sounded like Hilda… A wide grin cracked up the girl’s square face.

  “Leif! It’s me, Hilda! I’m not dead! Ragnar never managed to kill me.”

  I stared at the petite girl standing between the two men on the little raft in front of me and Orvar, not sure what to believe. Had I fallen asleep and was only dreaming all of this? Because it couldn’t really be Hilda standing there, could it? And what was she saying? That Ragnar didn’t manage to kill her?

  Orvar’s hand on my shoulder told me that I was fully awake. I blinked and said, “Hilda? Is that really you? You are… alive?”

  The grin in Hilda’s face grew wider.

  “Yes, Leif, it is really me. And as far as I know, I’m still alive.”

  Relief and happiness streamed through every part of me as I realized that it was indeed Hilda who stood there on the raft, smiling so widely it looked painful. It seemed too good to be true; yet, clearly, it was true. I smiled back at her. Hilda signaled to one of the men beside her to move the raft toward where Orvar and I stood. The two men helped Hilda onto the ground, one of them joining her, the other returning to the boat.

  Hilda rushed up to me and we threw our arms around one another in a long, long embrace, as if we both wanted to make sure the other was for real, not a ghost. At last I pulled back so that I could get a good view of Hilda.

  “I can hardly believe it’s you, Hilda,” I said.

  She stared up at me with fierce eyes, and then words came tumbling out of her, “Well, you better believe it. It is me and no other. And I know all that has happened, too. I know that Ragnar set you up so that he could have Thora. I know that your family has become tenant farmers under us to pay for what they think that you did. I know that your father spared your life and that you are a forest man now. I know that Thora divorced you and married Ragnar, just like he wanted. Unluckily for him, he didn’t strangle me long enough because… because…” Hilda looked beyond me, a contorted expression twisting her features suddenly. I turned my head and glanced behind me to see what had caught her attention. But I could see nothing unusual going on.

  An apologetic smile creased Hilda’s lips as her eyes returned to me. “Please forgive me, Leif. That just happens to me now.”

  “What?”

  “That I all of a sudden forget what I was talking about. What was I saying?”

  “You were about to say something about how unlucky it was that Ragnar didn’t strangle you long enough.”

  Hilda’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, that’s right. It was unlucky for him that he didn’t strangle me long enough to kill me because here I am still. What?”

  It was my turn to grin broadly now. I found myself unable to remove my eyes from her. One of Hilda’s hands flew up to her face. Feeling her way, she searched for something that probably shouldn’t be there.

  “What is there?” she asked. “What did I do now?”

  “Nothing. You look fine, more than fine,” I said, still smiling, removing her hand that frantically searched her face. “I’m just so happy to see that you are alive. I can hardly believe it.” I truly meant those words and embraced her again. We stood like that for a long moment. Finally, Hilda let go and there was another wide grin on her lips as she looked at me.

  “I see precisely what you are saying,” she said. “When I heard that you had been sentenced to become a forest man and nobody had heard anything about you in months, I became convinced that you were dead. But here you are.”

  “Yes, here I am, out in the woods. Still alive...” I smirked. Then I smiled again. “But what are you doing here? You have to tell me! And who is that?” I moved my head at the man a few steps away from Hilda, who waited a bit awkwardly with his back turned for me and Hilda to finish our lengthy reunion.

  Hilda hushed me and giggled. “Leif, don’t you worry. I will tell you every little detail. And… Orvar too.” She threw a glance over my shoulder as if to verify that it really was Orvar standing behind me, his back turned to us as well.

  “How did you ever meet him?” she whispered as quietly as she could muster. Apparently not expecting an answer, she said, “Let’s get a fire started and some hare grilled. That was why we cast anchor here in the first place. Then we’ll talk. We have lots and lots to tell each other.”

  22

  Orvar and I sat together with Hilda and her three traveling companions around the bonfire burning in the middle of the small meadow now. Bearskins protected our behinds from direct contact with the moist earth. We had skinned and gutted their large hare, each of us holding parts of the animal pierced on birch spits over the crackling flames. The meat had just begun grilling. A succulent aroma transpired from it, making my mouth water. Beside us, spread out on a white linen cloth, were pieces of black bread that Hilda had brought from the ship. The sun was on its way back down again, stretching out the shadows on the ground. A couple of barn swallows sailed across the sky, twittering gaily.

  “So when did you wake up?” I asked Hilda.

  “I’m n
ot sure. I don’t remember much from my recovery,” Hilda said. “But from what Katerina told me, I must have begun to wake up long before I was buried. I do have some memories from lying somewhere in a dark barn.”

  “Who is Katerina?”

  “Katerina is the woman who saved me. She is a medicine woman who also prepares dead people before they get buried. She and her family are from Russia, but now they live in southwestern Ostergotland. Have you ever heard of the Angel of Death?”

  “I might have. Was she the one who prepared you?”

  Hilda nodded.

  “Why did your father get someone from so far away?” I asked. “Why not from Valstad?”

  “Someone recommended her to him. She is supposed to be the best for burials. That’s why they call her the Angel of Death.”

  “I see.”

  “If it wouldn’t be for her, I would have died. She and her family rescued me.”

  “How did they do that?”

  Hilda opened her mouth to speak, but instead she closed her eyes and started to breathe shallowly through her nose. Alarmed, I put a hand on her arm and asked her what was wrong. She soon opened her eyes and breathed normally, smiling a little.

  “Please forgive me, Leif,” she said, “but ever since I woke up, I get these strange spells of dizziness all of a sudden. I forget where I am and what I was talking about. If I breathe through my nose the dizziness usually goes away. I am fine now. Where was I?”

  I wasn’t altogether convinced by her answer. Still, I told her where she had lost it.

  “Oh, right. All right, let’s see…” Hilda screwed up her face as if trying to determine the best way to retell what had happened to her. She nodded to herself. “Well, I might as well tell you everything from the beginning. Everything that Katerina told me. You might have to remind me again if I forget what I was talking about.”

  I nodded eagerly.

  Hilda took a deep breath and began her story:

  The day of Hilda’s burial Katerina had come in early to wash and prepare Hilda for her grave. As Katerina was about to remove her clothes, Hilda moved her head a little and mumbled something; she even opened her eyes a couple of times. Naturally, Katerina was terrified at first, but she soon calmed down for she realized that Hilda must not be dead after all. She had to tell the Jarlabanke family what had just happened, expecting them to be happy when they learned a mistake had been made.

  So she stood up and walked over to the barn’s front door. In that moment Ragnar stormed into the barn, almost knocking her over and demanding to see Hilda. Katerina tried to tell him then that Hilda wasn’t dead, but he didn’t listen. She tried again, but it was hard for her because her Swedish wasn’t very good—and it got worse when she was excited. Still, she kept trying, but Ragnar just grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard, demanding to know why she hadn’t finished the body yet. He was so angry and violent that Katerina began to suspect that something wasn’t right with him. Hilda had to be buried! he’d screamed in her face over and over. He needed her to disappear for good. When he told her that he would kill her, too, unless she got Hilda ready immediately, it finally dawned on Katerina that Ragnar wouldn’t be happy to find out that his sister was still alive... Not happy at all. She concluded that Ragnar must be the one who had tried to murder Hilda, not the family friend she had been told about earlier. Why he had done this she had no way of knowing, of course. She stopped trying to contradict him and returned to prepare Hilda for the grave until he left her alone at last.

  Katerina didn’t know what to do now. She figured she should go tell somebody else in the family what she had seen. But she soon understood that this would not be wise, for she did not know if someone else among the Jarlabankes was involved in the attempted murder. It could certainly be more than just Ragnar. All she knew was that some kind of crime had taken place, some kind of crime that at least Ragnar wanted to keep hidden. And she was scared that Ragnar would kill her, too, just like he had threatened, if she didn’t do as he told her. Still, she couldn’t just let them bury Hilda when she knew full well that the girl wasn’t dead.

  Katerina decided that the best thing to do was to do what Ragnar had told her. Katerina hoped that, as the girl was about to be buried, she would start mumbling again, or move, in front of all the people, and then everybody would see that she was alive still.

  She advised the girl’s father to leave the coffin opened inside the burial ship, claiming that, in this manner, his daughter would retain her earthly freshness and arrive to the afterlife in the most favorable condition. Bjorn Jarlabanke wanted what was best for his dead child, so he left the coffin opened. But Hilda gave no more signs of being alive. Katerina began to panic when they threw the first spades of soil on the sail that covered the top of the vessel.

  I pointed at the ship Hilda and her companions had arrived in that now rested calmly in the water only paces away from us and said, “Is that the sail you’re talking about?”

  “No, that’s the sail I lay upon when I was inside the coffin. They covered the ship with another sail. It was fastened with nails on the sides of the ship so that all that was buried with me wouldn’t get destroyed by the soil. The sail functioned like a roof. You have seen those before, Leif. Remember when my grandmother was buried.”

  I nodded, thinking back to the day several years ago when Hilda and Ragnar’s paternal grandmother was buried in one of the Jarlabanke clan’s many ships. Her coffin was placed in a chamber, created in the ship the way Hilda had just explained, together with an assortment of foods and beverages, a loom and kitchen utensils, clothes, jewelry, and a wagon with a dead horse. These items would make sure that she was comfortable during her journey to the afterlife, and later too, when she was living there. Some cattle, a pig, a goat, a dog, and the old woman’s cat had been placed into the ship as well. Two female slaves were killed and placed next to the woman’s body, ensuring that she was well taken care of in her new life. Accompanying a master or mistress to the realm that followed life on earth was considered an honor, not a punishment. In the old woman’s case, being that she had been a most beloved member of the Jarlabanke clan, the house slaves had not been able to settle on just one to go.

  “So the covered ship was my burial chamber, just like my grandmother’s,” Hilda confirmed. “And it’s not the same ship as the one we arrived in, of course. My burial ship was bigger and is still in my grave.”

  “But what about the eagle at the prow?” I asked. “I thought only the Jarlabankes used eagles as figureheads.”

  “Well, I’m still a Jarlabanke. This is my ship and I wanted an eagle in the prow, just like our ships have. I bought the ship with the jewelry Katerina and her men had taken from my grave when they rescued me and asked the builder to carve an eagle for me. He did good work, don’t you agree?” After I gave a nod, Hilda continued her story:

  When they had covered the ship entirely with dirt, Katerina overheard Hilda’s father telling one of the guests that they wouldn’t raise the stone monument to mark his daughter’s grave until the next day because that was when the stone slabs would arrive. Bjorn Jarlabanke had ordered special ones from a rune carver in another district. Katerina knew then that she might be able to rescue Hilda after all—if she could find a way to dig her up during the night. She hoped that Hilda would still be alive then.

  Again, Hilda’s story was interrupted, this time by the arrival of food. Mikail, the man seated on the other side of her, handed Hilda some bread and a piece of glistening, sweet-smelling hare on a wooden plate. She passed it along to me and Orvar, and then a new load of food followed. Soon, all of us around the sparkling fire had food in our hands, and a cup of water or mead in front of us. Hilda put her plate down on the ground and stood up. She looked around at everybody and said, “I have to excuse myself for a few moments. I didn’t realize the food was already done. But please, do go ahead and start before me. I will be back soon.” She walked toward the line of firs that grew densely several paces away
from the bonfire.

  I followed Hilda with my eyes as she headed toward the trees. Only then did I notice how her gait had changed—she was limping slightly. Watching her as she struggled to move as though nothing had changed, I could feel my heart breaking. The stiff leg must be another part of her that had not recovered fully after Ragnar’s attack.

  I turned back and faced the fire once more. I stared into the blue and yellow flames that swirled up into the air, dancing their own special dance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw how the other men began to eat. I didn’t feel like eating, so I put my plate down on the ground instead. Something, an indefinable feeling inside me, had begun to materialize. I found myself turning around again and again, hoping to see that Hilda was returning already. Hearing her melodious voice and watching that wide white smile light up her face made me feel better than I had felt in a long time. There was something different about her, I concluded, something that made her seem a little bit like someone else. I wasn’t sure in what way, though. It didn’t seem like it could have anything to do with her appearance because she looked the same as always. Except, there was a certain glow about her now, as if she had just awoken from a long, much needed slumber. Yes, I nodded to myself. It had something to do with the way she carried herself, something that made her seem years older, yet healthier and more alive than ever, the limp notwithstanding. And that was all a good thing.