“And what is that?” Tauno wondered. His spine prickled.
Haakon grimaced. “When she was a child, Bengta passed on to me a story about a tupilak that she had from the Skraelings. I thought it was a mere bogy tale that might give her nightmares. Then she consoled me and promised not. Oh, she was the most loving daughter a man could have, until—
“Well. A tupilak is a sea monster made by witchcraft. The warlock builds a frame, stretches a walrus hide across, stuffs the whole with hay and sews it up, adds fangs and claws and—and sings over it. Then it moves, seeks the water, preys on his enemies. This tupilak attacks white men. It staves in a skiff, or capsizes it, or crawls over the side. Spears, arrows, axes, nothing avails against a thing that has no blood, that is not really alive. It eats the crew. . . . What few escaped bear witness.
“This whole summer, we’ve been forbidden the sea. We cannot fish, seal, fowl and gather eggs on the rookery islands; we cannot send word to the Ostri Bygd for help. Men set out overland. We’ve heard naught. Maybe the Skraelings got them, though like as not, they simply lost their way and starved in that gashed and frozen desert. The southerners are used to not hearing from us for long at a time; in any case, they have troubles of their own; and if they did send a boat or two, the tupilak waylaid those.
“We’ve barely stocks on hand to last out the winter. But next year we die.”
“Or you go away,” Tauno said into his anguish. “Now I see what Bengta meant. You must leave, seek new homes to southward. I suppose the angakok will call off his beast if you do.”
“We’ll be go-betweens if you wish,” Eyjan offered.
Some of the men cursed, some shouted. Jonas drew his knife. Haakon sat as though carved in flint, and stated: “No. Here are our homes. Our memories, our buried fathers, our freedom They’re not much better off in the south than we are here; they can take us in; but only as hirelings, miserably poor. No, I say. We’ll harry the Skraelings instead till they are gone.”
Once more he leaned forward, left fist clenched on knee, right hand raised crook-fingered like the talons of a Greenland falcon. “Thus we arrive at my bargain,” he told the merman’s children. “Let us take the boats out tomorrow. The tupilak will know, and come. While we fight it from the hulls, you attack from beneath. It can be slain-cut to pieces, at least. That story Bengta heard was of how a valiant man got rid of a tupilak. He invented the kayak, you see, to capsize on purpose and get at the thing’s underside. Belike that’s an old wives’ tale in itself. Anyhow, no man of us has skill with those piddleboats. Still, it shows what the Skraelings believe is possible, and they ought to know; right?
“Help free us from our demon, and I’ll guide you to your people. Otherwise”-Haakon smiled stiffly—“I’d not be surprised if the creature took you for Norse and slew you. You are half of our breed. Be true to your race, and we will be true to you.”
Again was a windy hush. Tauno and Eyjan exchanged a look. “No,” said the brother.
“What?” burst from Haakon. He tried to jeer: “Are you afraid? When you’d have allies? Then flee these waters at dawn.”
“I think you lie to us,” Tauno said. “Not about your bloodiness toward the Inuit, nor about their revenge, no—but about those merfolk. It rings false.”
“I watched faces,” Eyjan put in. “Your own following doesn’t swallow that yarn.”
Jonas grabbed at his dagger. “Do you call my father a liar?”
“I call him a desperate man,” Tauno said. “However”-he pointed to the crucifix above the high seat- “take that sign of your God between both hands, Haakon Amorsson. Kiss your God on the lips, and swear by your hope of going to Him after you die, that you have spoken entire truth to us, your guests. Then we will fare beside you.”
Haakon sat. He stared.
Eyjan rose. “Best wc go, Tauno,” she sighed. “Goodfolk, we’re sorry. But why should we risk our lives for nothing, in a quarrel not ours and unjust to boot? I rede you to do what Bengta said, and leave this land of ill weird.”
Haakon leaped erect. His sword blazed forth. “Seize them!” he shouted.
Tauno’a knife sprang free. The sword whirred down and struck it from his grasp. Women and children screamed. But from fear of what might happen if the halflings escaped, the men boiled against them.
Two clung to either arm of Tauno, two to either leg. He banged them around. A club struck his head. He roared. The club thudded twice, thrice. Agony and shooting stars flashed across his world. He crumpled. Between raggedy-clad calves he glimpsed Eyjan. She had her back to the wall. Spears hemmed her in, the sword hovered aloft, Jonas laid steel at her throat. Tauno fell into nothingness.
IX
Day broke as a sullen red glimmer through clouds, a steel sheen on the murk and chop of the fjord. Wind blew whetted. Tauno wondered if the wind was always keening around this place. He awoke on the straw where he had been laid out, to see Haakon towering above him as a shadow. “Up!” called the chieftain, and men grumbled about in the house-dark, babies wailed, older children whimpered.
“Are you well?” Eyjan asked from across the room. Like him, she had spent the night on the floor, wrists and ankles bound, neck leashed to a roofpost.
“Stiff,” he said. After hours of sleep, his temples no longer throbbed as when first he regained awareness. Blood clotted his hair, though, thirst his mouth. “You, my sister?”
Her chuckle came hoarse. “Well, that Jonas lout crawled by ere dawn to fumble at me, then dared not untie my legs. I could have made do, but it was a sort of fun to pretend I couldn’t. Shall I tell the rest?” They were using their father’s language.
“Not unless you do want him upon you, and belike more than him. We’re soulless-animals-to be used however men see fitremember?”
Haakon had come near saying as much when he had them secured: “Never would I have laid hand on any human whom I’d declared a guest, not even a Skraeling. But you aren’t. Does a man break faith when he butchers a sheep he’s kept? My sin would be not to force you, for tpe saving of my people.” He added: “Tomorrow you’ll help us fight the tupilak, Tauno. Eyjan stays behind, hostage. If you win, you both go free. That oath I will give you upon the Cross.”
“Can we nonetheless believe a traitor?” she snarled.
His mouth twisted upward. “What choice have you?”
This morning he had men stand around, clad in shirt and breeks, weapons bared, while he released Tauno. The halfling rose, flexed the cramp out of his limbs, went to Eyjan and kissed her. Jonas shifted from foot to foot. “Well,” the youth said around a mouthful of cheese and hardtack, “well, let’s away and get the thing done.”
Tauno shook his head. “First, food and water for my sister and me. As much as we need, too.”
Haakon frowned. “Best to eat lightly, or not at all, before battle.”
“Not for beings like us.”
A middle-aged, brown-haired man, who hight Steinkil, guffawed. “Right. Haakon, you know how seals gorge.”
The leader shrugged. He must struggle to hold back dismay when he saw what pounds of meat his captives put down. At the end, he snapped. “Now will you come?” and stalked for the door.
“A little span yet,” Tauno said.
Haakon wheeled about. “Have you forgotten what you are, here?”
Tauno gave him stare for stare. “Have you forgotten what captaincy is . . . even here?”
Then the Liri prince knelt by his sister, took her in his arms, and murmured into the fresh fragrances of her hair and flesh, “Eyjan, mine is the better luck. If I die, it will be cleanly. Youthey’re women, brats, and oldsters who’ll guard you. Can’t you play on their fears, or trick them somehow, and-?”