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

even deadly.
    Soon,
they were at the edge of the lake, looking across the waters, taking what cover
they could from the trees around them, many only now coming into leaf.
    Steinarr
turned to Eskil and asked, “Which way?” He was asking if they should follow the
lakeshore seaward or inland, yet the answer came from elsewhere.
    Out
of the cool night and the whisper of the rising wind came the sudden and stark
bleat of a sheep.
    The
Godslanders quieted in an instant.
    “Sheep?”
Torrador finally gasped.
    Eskil
smiled. “Perhaps our own, once lost, but now found?”
    Another
sheep sounded.
    Steinarr
pointed in the direction of the bleats. “Two of them! The call is coming from
across the lake. That puts them at the base of the bluff, the place best
sheltered.”
    “But
are they living wild or tethered in a skraeling camp?” Samr asked.
    Eskil
tightened his grip around his spear. “We did smell smoke, after all, and it is
what brought us here. There must be a camp.”
    The
men agreed.
    Eskil
continued, “We approach in the dark, slow and quiet.” He then turned to lead
the way, heading seaward, following the lake’s edge.
    They
made their way amidst shrubs that gave way in places to last autumn’s dead
reeds. They continued to pass along the edge of the mostly leafless wood, some
of the trees yet to awaken from winter’s sleep.
    Again
the sheep called, their bleats coming to them on a slow but smoke-scented
breeze.
    After
some time spent following the lake around, they reached the base of the bluff,
a place where more trees and rocks crowded as the cliff face stepped down
steeply into the vale. Once there, they caught a glimpse of light ahead.
    Flames!
    It
was the soft, yellow glow of a campfire.
    The
nearer they approached by dusk’s dying light, the more they realised that what
they saw was the stirring of a fire pit as they looked through a doorway into a
hall. The detail of the building was lost to gloom, but the structure was clear
enough.
    For
a moment the light died, blocked by a figure passing through the doorway and
into the night. The sound of the sheep came a moment later, them calling out as
they were led inside. With that, the door shut and only the barest of golden
lines from the fire was visible.
    Eskil
slowed his men by holding out his arms as they neared the camp. He whispered,
“Let us take great care in this. While we could do with those sheep, there is
something here that unsettles me.”
    “What
is that?” asked Steinarr.
    “It
seems too familiar, so unlike what I would expect of skraelings.”
    “What
do you mean?”
    “I
know dark is upon us, but look at what we can see of that hall.” They all
peered through the night, taking in what they could from the escaped glow of
fire light, or from what the night shared of the silhouette. “It looks to be a
hall, a hall of our own kind, not a hut or tent roped together by wretches of
no consequence.”
    As
they looked at it in the dark, weighing Eskil’s words, a great gale of laughter
erupted from within the hall, one borne of several strong voices. Amidst the
roar, one voice declared, “By Thor, I am surprised she has not had twins yet!”
    Eskil
swore, “By all the gods!”
    His
fellows exchanged glances and cursed in surprise.
    Steinarr
whispered, “What in all of Valhalla is this?”
    Eskil
was smiling. “Kin! Our kin, I think. Was that Thrainn’s voice?”
    Torrador
whispered, “It might be, but how could such a thing come to pass?”
    “Perhaps
they survived their own ship’s wreck as well, but landed over here.”
    Steinarr
eagerly stepped forward, with Samr and Erik at his back, the three almost
pushing past Eskil. “Let us get in there!”
    Eskil
stayed him. “Stop! If you barge in, you will end up with a knife in your gut or
an axe in your face.”
    Steinarr
relented.
    “I
will call out to them and see what we might learn. Even if it is not our lost
brothers, at least they are our own kind.”
    The
others