Page 37 of Hungry Like a Wolf
They traveled forthree weeks, stopping at land twice to restock the longboat with fresh water, mead, and food. Each time, Carmel stayed aboard and didn’t speak to anyone. She just waited while Ravn and the crew bartered in their native tongue.
She’d stayed distant from Ravn, barely speaking to him, not wanting to put herself in a position where he could kiss her again. She might be a long way from a church, but God could still see her.
As she’d sat being gently rocked, her grief gripped her in its mean fist. Tears fell for her father, for the young men who’d fallen around him. Her anger at Haakon rose and fell like a series of waves. They’d attacked Tillicoulty, and they’d gotten more than they’d bargained for. Whose fault was that?
Her mother’s face hovered before her. Her father’s also. Would she ever see her brother again? Perhaps when he was a grown man, he would come and find her. If she survived that long.
Eventually, they sailed between two vast, snow-topped mountains that were lined with waterfalls and littered with brave little trees rooting into the rocks. Turning east, they drifted onto a still and silent fjord. The Vikings stopped rowing and sat still and quiet, their oar handles resting on their laps.
Overhead, a bird of prey called and in the distance, rising from mist, was a crescent beach with a pier lined with longboats and alight with flaming iron baskets. Beyond it, the many pitched roofs of Drangar spread toward a cleft in the mountains.
“Home,” Ravn said after a few minutes. “Thanks be to all the gods for our safe arrival.”
Carmel crossed herself. They’d been lucky. The weather had been kind to them with only a few days of rain, no storms, and waves the boat handled with ease.
As they drew closer, the Vikings began to row again, slicing through the water as though it were butter on a hot day.
A drum sounded, its thick beat echoing around the valley.
“Ha, they have seen us.” Ravn stood at the prow, his cloak flicking behind him in the breeze. “We will feast tonight, men, and we will deserve every mouthful of food and swallow of ale.”
A cheer went up.
Carmel tightened her cloak and tried to beat down nerves. It was hard not to feel like she was being lowered into a pit of vipers. If Orm was anything to go by, the townsfolk of Drangar could be terrifying.
They were met with a crowd at the pier. Smiles and waves and shouts of “Konge Ravn! Konge Ravn!” Flags flapped and dogs barked. The drum sounded louder and a banner with the image of a black raven was hoisted high up a pole.
“My good people. Your king has returned!” Ravn shouted.
Men rushed to secure the boat, and the crew leaped out and were absorbed by the crowd as they found their families.
“Princess, your hand.” Ravn stooped to look under her hood at her face.
She shook her head, wishing she could become invisible.
“Your hand,” he repeated, taking it. “The people of Drangar will want to meet their new princess.”
“I am not a princess here.”
“You aremyprincess.” He grinned. “And they will treat you as such.” He tipped closer. “That is my promise.”
She pulled in a breath as the shouts and cheers grew louder still.
“Come on. We have been on this boat long enough. It is time to find our land legs again.”
“Our what?”
He laughed. “You will see what I mean.” He pulled her to standing and circled her waist as though expecting her to topple overboard.
The roar of the crowd was deafening as they stepped onto the pier. She kept her hood pulled up, overwhelmed by the surge of strangers.
The moment her feet hit the wooden boards, Carmel knew what Ravn had referred to.
Her knees were weak, her legs shaky. It was as though she were still compensating for the rocking of the boat, yet the surface beneath her was unmoving.
“Oh,” she said, clinging to the sleeve of his tunic. “This is…peculiar.”
“It can take a day or two.” He grinned then lifted his hand into the air. For a few minutes, he spoke loudly in his native tongue.
