out, or else they had killed her too.
Men yelled. Two youths chattered in their strangely accented language, on the next ship. A man lumbered past. Hekja shrank back.
It was the man Finnbogi, who had killed Hekja’s ma. He still had Ma’s blood on his shirt, but he didn’t even glance at Hekja as he passed. She was just one more piece of loot among the many.
No one seemed concerned with her at all. They were busy setting sail, stacking goods and settling themselves comfortably against the bundles.
Suddenly Hekja saw the woman Freydis who had captured her the night before. She was the only woman on board, standing amid ships and directing men to stow this here and stow that there. A tall, short-bearded man Hekja hadn’t seen before stood by her side, bellowing orders.
Hekja looked on wide-eyed. What was happening? Where were they going now? To raid another village, or a monastery perhaps? Where did the Vikings live? But there was no one to ask.
Finally the ships began to wallow out from the calm of the bay and plunged into the wild ocean waves. Hekja had lived her life by the sea, but this was the first time she had been on it. In her village, boats were for the men. Hekja stared at the distant shore as the village grew further and further away. But nothing moved there. The shore was still, except for the eagle circling above. Even the gulls seemed to have flown. Then suddenly she saw a figure striding out onto the cliff top above the waves, her cloak wrapped tight about her.
It was the witch. As Hekja watched she lifted her arm and waved, a small woman growing smaller, and smaller still.
One of the men yelled something and pointed. But they would not turn back for an old woman. They had got all that could be stolen from one poor village and had their sport. Now they wanted to be gone.
‘Arf?’ said Snarf softly. Hekja bit her lip. She would not let the Vikings hear her cry.
How much had Tikka guessed, when she named a fat little puppy Riki Snarfari, thought Hekja. How far are we going to travel now?
----
9 These ships were of the kind known as knarr, or knorr, though that term may not have referred to a cargo ship until a century or so later; they were wider and deeper than a longship. Longships, or drekars, were longer and faster with oars all the way along each side, and were used for raiding along the coast of northern Europe; knarrs were used on long voyages across the Atlantic Ocean.
Chapter 12
UNDER SAIL
The sky and sea swallowed the great mountain. Now there were only grey waves and the grey sky above.
Finally Freydis strode across to Hekja. Even on the swaying ship her walk was confident, as though she had been born on one. She carried a dipper of fresh water and some dried fish dangled from her hand. She held the dipper up to Hekja’s mouth and let her drink deeply, and then she let Snarf drink as well.
‘Well?’ she demanded, staring down at Hekja. Even the Viking women, Hekja thought, were taller than a village man. ‘If I untie you, will you scream and jump overboard? It’s too far to swim to shore, you know, even if you can swim, which I doubt.’
Hekja said nothing. Some of Freydis’ words were strange, so she was not sure what they meant.
Freydis laughed. It seemed she liked laughing, though not everyone might like the things she chose to laugh at. ‘Hikki!’ she called. ‘Come here!’
‘Yes, mistress?’
A young man, with dark hair and eyes the same colour as the villagers’, made his way uncertainly across the boat. His face looked slightly green from the motionof the ship. He was taller than any village man, even Bran, though he was not as tall as even the shortest of the Vikings.
He glanced at Hekja curiously, then saw the dried fish in Freydis’ hands. He dashed to the side and vomited into the sea.
Freydis laughed even louder. ‘Stop feeding the fish, Hikki!’ she shouted. ‘I ordered you to come over here!’
The man wiped his mouth and staggered back. Freydis
Men yelled. Two youths chattered in their strangely accented language, on the next ship. A man lumbered past. Hekja shrank back.
It was the man Finnbogi, who had killed Hekja’s ma. He still had Ma’s blood on his shirt, but he didn’t even glance at Hekja as he passed. She was just one more piece of loot among the many.
No one seemed concerned with her at all. They were busy setting sail, stacking goods and settling themselves comfortably against the bundles.
Suddenly Hekja saw the woman Freydis who had captured her the night before. She was the only woman on board, standing amid ships and directing men to stow this here and stow that there. A tall, short-bearded man Hekja hadn’t seen before stood by her side, bellowing orders.
Hekja looked on wide-eyed. What was happening? Where were they going now? To raid another village, or a monastery perhaps? Where did the Vikings live? But there was no one to ask.
Finally the ships began to wallow out from the calm of the bay and plunged into the wild ocean waves. Hekja had lived her life by the sea, but this was the first time she had been on it. In her village, boats were for the men. Hekja stared at the distant shore as the village grew further and further away. But nothing moved there. The shore was still, except for the eagle circling above. Even the gulls seemed to have flown. Then suddenly she saw a figure striding out onto the cliff top above the waves, her cloak wrapped tight about her.
It was the witch. As Hekja watched she lifted her arm and waved, a small woman growing smaller, and smaller still.
One of the men yelled something and pointed. But they would not turn back for an old woman. They had got all that could be stolen from one poor village and had their sport. Now they wanted to be gone.
‘Arf?’ said Snarf softly. Hekja bit her lip. She would not let the Vikings hear her cry.
How much had Tikka guessed, when she named a fat little puppy Riki Snarfari, thought Hekja. How far are we going to travel now?
----
9 These ships were of the kind known as knarr, or knorr, though that term may not have referred to a cargo ship until a century or so later; they were wider and deeper than a longship. Longships, or drekars, were longer and faster with oars all the way along each side, and were used for raiding along the coast of northern Europe; knarrs were used on long voyages across the Atlantic Ocean.
Chapter 12
UNDER SAIL
The sky and sea swallowed the great mountain. Now there were only grey waves and the grey sky above.
Finally Freydis strode across to Hekja. Even on the swaying ship her walk was confident, as though she had been born on one. She carried a dipper of fresh water and some dried fish dangled from her hand. She held the dipper up to Hekja’s mouth and let her drink deeply, and then she let Snarf drink as well.
‘Well?’ she demanded, staring down at Hekja. Even the Viking women, Hekja thought, were taller than a village man. ‘If I untie you, will you scream and jump overboard? It’s too far to swim to shore, you know, even if you can swim, which I doubt.’
Hekja said nothing. Some of Freydis’ words were strange, so she was not sure what they meant.
Freydis laughed. It seemed she liked laughing, though not everyone might like the things she chose to laugh at. ‘Hikki!’ she called. ‘Come here!’
‘Yes, mistress?’
A young man, with dark hair and eyes the same colour as the villagers’, made his way uncertainly across the boat. His face looked slightly green from the motionof the ship. He was taller than any village man, even Bran, though he was not as tall as even the shortest of the Vikings.
He glanced at Hekja curiously, then saw the dried fish in Freydis’ hands. He dashed to the side and vomited into the sea.
Freydis laughed even louder. ‘Stop feeding the fish, Hikki!’ she shouted. ‘I ordered you to come over here!’
The man wiped his mouth and staggered back. Freydis
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