The United States of Vinland: The Landing (The Markland Trilogy) by Colin Taber Page A

crouch down as they approached the crest, preparing to look on
more of Markland than most had previously seen.
    Over
the ridge, to one side, a small cove opened off the sea. On the other side rose
another ridgeline, and beyond that appeared to be an even deeper fjord. Above
the cove stretched a small valley, the land stepping up to some height. At the
back of that higher valley, nursed between two snow-capped bluffs, a wood
crowded beside a small lake. The lake spread mostly on the far side of the
trees, where a stream ran down a series of foaming white falls, into the cove
to find the sea.
    Torrador
whispered, “That looks to be a grand place.”
    Eskil
nodded, while the others murmured agreement.
    “There
is much timber, that is certain, and it looks to be sheltered from the winds
off the sea,” answered Steinarr.
    Eskil
mused, “I do not see any sign of a camp from here.”
    Samr
answered him. “No, but it is hard to be certain. In truth, I cannot be sure of
where I think the smoke rose, but if I had to guess, I would say it was from
that valley and not the next.”
    Steinarr
agreed with his brother.
    Eskil
also was uncertain of whether this was from where the smoke had risen, as he
and Gudrid had seen its sky-climbing trail from much farther off. “Let us back
down our side of the ridge and follow it along. Then we will try to cross over
and get down into those woods. We need to try and remain unseen.”
    It
had been mid-afternoon when they first reached the ridge top. Now, as they made
their way along, checking for signs of movement from the vale below, the
afternoon waned. Eventually, when they found a good spot for crossing and
making their way down to the woods, they could see they would not reach the
lakeside until sunset.
    Though
the skies remained mostly clear, Eskil wondered if they should risk spending
the night in the wild, exposed as they were to the early spring elements.
Finally, he said, “Let us stop and wait for the coming of dusk. We will then
make our way down, using the night to aid us. It will work to double our
numbers and perhaps we will even see a fire light to help give our foe away.”
    So
they sat up on the ridge, taking in the view, not only of the vale they were to
enter, but of their own fjord. From where they sat, they could see other vales
in the landscape, some crammed with trees, others not. The heights around them
still wore tattered shrouds of snow, but the lowlands held such stores only in
shadowed gullies.
    The
thaw was well underway.
    As
they waited, Steinarr said, “It is a good land, if harsh, and its winters long
and cruel.”
    Eskil
smiled at his friend’s words. “Yes, a harsh land, and one we will need to
master if we are to survive. I suspect it also hides great riches for us to
uncover, but first we must make ourselves safe.”
    When
the sun finally slipped below the snow-capped mountains to the west, the meagre
heat of the day died.
    “Let
us continue,” Eskil said.
    They
got up and readied their weapons. As quickly as they could, and with much care,
they crossed the ridge’s peak and started down the hillside. They headed for
the closest edge of the woodland.
    Torrador
whispered to Eskil as they neared the end of their descent, “I smell smoke.”
    He
was right.
    A
light breeze had come in off the sea late in the morning and scattered the
smoke before it could rise and be seen, but the scent lingered.
    Before
long, they were at the edge of the wood. After a quick check that they were all
down, they dove into the maze of branches and trunks, passing swiftly through a
thick leaf litter of rich rot, some of it still frozen or caked in snow.
    The
night settled cold and dark about them, while the wind picked up strength.
Scattered, heavy clouds started to come in from the east, though it seemed they
would be safe from any rain or sleet for a while yet. But such a thing, this
close to winter’s last gasp, would be uncomfortable to bear, and perhaps, at
its worst,