Kirstie

They sailed passed the Frisian shore without trouble. Leif mentioned that pirates sometimes congregated in the lowlands and the inland waterways. He explained that the inland waters in Frisia were not like the fjords in Norway which were shadowed by great hills and mountains. “These inland waterways are more like flatland swamps in a way. What looks like good land being covered in green grasses and flowers may turn out to be water underneath, and possibly deep water. The pirates know the ways through and around the wetlands so no one can ever catch them.”

“That is twice mention of pirates,” Yrsa said, and Kirstie agreed.

“Third time is the charm. Get your arrows ready.”

“Third time?” Old Man Skarde listened in as usual.

“Just the story of my life,” Kirstie told him. “Don’t worry about it.” She checked her weapons beneath her seat.

Captain Jarl Hagenson gathered everyone’s attention. “Leif has seen a ship in the distance. Our lady Yrsa has confirmed the same with her good eyes. Right now, they appear to be just following us, but Kirstie has suggested they may be waiting for others to join them, and I agree. We are coming to the narrow place between Flanders and Kent. and it is one place pirates like. There is room to maneuver, but not much room to escape. So, keep your eyes open and be ready to row on short command.”

Men felt anxious all morning, but midday passed without incident. It turned roughly two o’clock before the first man shouted, “Ships. There, ahead of us, and they have their oars out. It looks like they were expecting us.”

“The ship behind has lowered their sail. They have their oars out,” Yrsa yelled.

“How can you see that?” Leif asked quietly.

“Wait. To your oars. Wait.” Captain Jarl yelled to the men. They waited, but not very patiently. “I want both ships in front of us moving to push us to the shore of Flanders. I want them committed so it will be hard to back stroke and take time to turn around. Wait. Now!” He shouted. “Oars out. Regular strokes. Not too deep. I don’t want any panic. Hard right. Get that sail down. Regular strokes.”

Old Man Skarde started singing, and the rest of the crew slowly picked it up. The song was an old sailor’s chant such as mothers sing to their babies, but the roots of the song were much older. It kept the rowing rhythm perfectly, and the men smiled at memories of mother and home and relaxed, which relieved their panic and got them synchronized. They flew.

The bottom pirate ship that blocked their straight path struggled to turn around. The top ship that would have pushed them and chased them to the shore tried to reverse stroke so they could back up. They had to come to a complete stop first before they could start moving the wrong way. Longships were able to move in either direction with the oars, but they still had to stop their forward motion to start in reverse.

The ship that followed them did not appear to get any closer, and Leif pointed out, “They will tire, having rowed much further than us to get here.”

The men, some chanting and some singing could be heard by the other ship just fine as Captain Jarl steered the ship just around the backside of the top pirate ship. One man later said he could have spit and hit the deck of the other ship. They were that close. But with their speed, they got past the blockade and out into the open waters of the channel. And they did not stop. The enemy could turn well enough and be after them, and with three ships to their one, woe if they got caught.

Kirstie had a thought and slid up her oar so she would not tangle the others. “Vingevourt,” she called. The sprite jumped up to the railing right away, and another sprite came with him. It seemed like Vingevourt followed them all the way from Strindlos. “Can you stop the other ships from following?” she asked.

Vingevourt shook his little head. “I have no authority in the channel. These waters belong to my cousin here.”

“Svartelbin, it is lovely to meet you. Might you be able to help us out?”

“She has a land elf with her,” Vingevourt interrupted and pointed at Yrsa.

“Hello,” Yrsa said. It was all she could manage through her sweat. She was a light elf and did not have rock hard muscles like a dwarf, but she would do her duty.

“I would be grateful if you could help us out,” Kirstie added.

Svartelbin nodded for Vingevourt as much as for Kirstie. “We can’t stop them, but we can maybe slow them a bit. We can press up against the front end and cling to their oars to make them heavy and tire them.” Svartelbin seemed to have a revelation. “I wish I could do more. I honestly wish it.”

Jarl saw Kirstie stopped rowing and got half-way down the center aisle before he saw and turned around. Leif, who watched whenever the captain moved, asked what was going on. Jarl looked at the man and said, “Just something that will make you shriek.” He went back to join the helmsman at the steering board.

“Oh,” Leif thought about it between strokes. “Oh!” he said, considerably louder.

“How about rocking the boat,” Yrsa managed.

“Yes,” Kirstie grasped the idea. “Can you get your wave makers to come alongside the boats and rock them back and forth to make the men… sick to their stomachs?” She almost said seasick, but the sprites would not understand that and might have been offended at the suggestion.

“Sick to their stomachs?” Svartelbin was not sure.

“You know,” Vingevourt said. “When they eject filth from their mouths and can’t do much more than sit and make whining noises.”

“Dirty my channel? Well, some bottom dwellers find that tasteful. Rock the boat?” Kirstie showed with her hands.

“That and pushing against the front and making their oars heavy should stop them pretty quick, especially if they are afraid that they might tip over.”

“It is really hard to make them tip over.”

“I’m not asking to tip them over, just rock them so they are afraid that they might tip over. Will you do this?”

Svartelbin looked at Vingevourt and Vingevourt spoke. “It will be our pleasure, Lady.” He bowed and Svartelbin also bowed before the two of them popped and splashed back into the sea.

“Good thing,” Old man Skarde said. “My old arms are not up for rowing all day.”

“Me neither,” Yrsa said.

“Yes, but at least your elf arms are not as old as mine.”

“My arms are a hundred and fifty years old, just a smidgen older than my hair.”

Old Man Skarde did not miss a stroke, but said simply, “Learn something new every day.”

When they got well out of range, and for all they knew the pirates gave up the chase, Jarl turned them due south. They followed within sight of the shoreline all the way to Fiscannum.

~~~*~~~

Fiscannum already had three ships in the dock when they arrived. Two were Saxon merchant ships from Wessex, or Cornwall or maybe Brittany anchored off the harbor. They were fat and lazy ships, but they had a hold that could carry a large amount of goods. The third ship was a longship not much different from their own. One crew member identified it as a Danish ship.

Jarl wisely chose to anchor off the port and prepared to send a longboat to see if they might be welcome to trade, and to scope out the area. Kirstie wanted to go in the longboat, but Jarl vetoed that idea. He whispered in her ear. “If the hag is in the dock, I assume you don’t want to give yourself away.”

Kirstie growled at him, but he was right.

It turned out they did not have to go anywhere. The port sent a longboat to talk with them. “Where are you from?” The first question came well before the longboat reached the ship. It was said in the old Norse language so communication would not be a problem.

Jarl answered. “We are merchants from Strindlos in the Trondelag and wonder if this is a place where we may engage in honest trade.”

“That depends. What have you brought to trade?”

“Furs, fine hides, and grain,” Jarl answered. “I heard the north shore is full of too much fighting and too little farming.”

The speaker in the longboat paused to turn his head to one of the passengers before he shouted again to the ship. “Where is Trondelag?”

“Northern Norway. Cold country.”

“The land of Harald Finehair?”

“Fairhair,” Leif shouted back.

“He may be blonde, but from what I hear he is losing his hair.” The speaker smiled at the thought, but only for a second. “I see you have a full crew. You can’t have much grain and furs.”

“There are pirates,” Jarl answered in all honesty. “We were chased through the narrow place that comes into the channel and would not have escaped without a full crew.”

The man paused to listen to his passenger again. “Do you have anything else worth trading?”

Jarl paused this time and appeared to look around at the crew. He actually looked at Kirstie. She nodded and said, “Amber,” pinching her fingers to say a small amount.

“Yes,” Jarl shouted as the longboat stopped moving closer. “We have a jug of fine honey and beeswax from the cold north. We have some ivory. And we have a small bit of amber to trade, but we would expect to get a good return, especially on the amber which is very hard to come by.”

The speaker in the boat had to get his instructions before he shouted. “The harbor master says you may anchor opposite the Danish ship. He will send men aboard to inventory your goods, and after you are approved, you may visit the guild hall to bargain.” The longboat turned and headed back to shore.

Jarl figured he had a couple of minutes. He talked to Leif, Kirstie, and the leaders of the crew. “Bring the amber over here.” he said and bent down to the deck beside the steering oar. He pulled up a plank over the pole that connected to the bottom of the steering board. The hole had been expanded there, either by wear and tear, weathering, or on purpose. He slipped almost half of the amber in the hole. Before he replaced the plank, Kirstie took two fine pieces and handed them to Old Man Skarde to hide in his tunic.

“They will expect us to try and hide some. This way they can find some.”

Jarl nodded and grabbed a piece of ivory. He put it in the hole, really a dent made for the anchor. That hole was also bigger than it needed to be. “Get the men to the oars. Up the anchor. Let’s fit it on top.” They did. The anchor did not fit perfectly but it got covered and looked acceptable and wet. The men rowed and the steersman put the ship alongside the dock.