Christopher Dinsdale's Historical Adventures 4-Book Bundle. Christopher Dinsdale
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begun!
Kiera burst into a stumbling sprint. Thankfully, she would not have to worry about her lack of berries today. No one would notice that she had shirked her duties, since the excitement of the returning salmon would consume the thoughts of every villager. Kiera joined in with her own whoops and cheers as she launched herself, boots and all, into the creek. The water was frothing with life as thousands of fish tried to push their way upriver towards their ancestral spawning grounds. She laughed as a larger fish boldly tried to sprint between her leather boots. Pinning the creature with her ankles, she bent down and grabbed the fish through the gills. With one smooth motion, she flung the fish into the air and towards the waiting men on the shore.
“It's about time you showed up.”
A strong hand grabbed her shoulder. Kiera spun around and looked into the squinting, seacragged eyes of her master, Bjorn. His huge body and etched face were fierce, but behind the menacing stare lay a sparkle of kindness in the knowing, blue eyes.
“I was out picking blueberries as Dagmar had asked,” she said, defensively.
“Aye, and I saw your basket on the grass. Spent maybe twenty minutes of your two hours picking, I reckon. Daydreaming at the Stone again?”
Kiera didn't answer. She didn't have to. Her blushing cheeks gave her away once again. They were the bane of her existence.
His stare narrowed. “Well, since you've already had your break, you're not leaving this creek until you've hauled out more salmon than any other man, woman or child of the village. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, meekly.
As her master ordered, Kiera hauled out fish after fish without a break. The enthusiasm of the moment quickly waned. Even at dusk, when most of the villagers had returned to their homes to prepare for dinner, she stubbornly stayed in the creek until it was dark. She could no longer see the fish, but her other heightened senses could hear the approaching splashing and the movement of water against her legs. More often than not, her fingers would somehow find the slippery scales, then the gills of a salmon.
The sound of joyous feasting began to mingle with the splashing of the fish. The delectable aroma of grilled salmon drifted across the water. Her grumbling stomach urged her to follow the aromatic trail to its source. Kiera, however, willed herself to go on, knowing that she had not been given the permission to quit. Bjorn was not a cruel man, but it was simply not her way. Her master had told her to haul fish, and she would continue do so without question.
It was well into the evening when Bjorn appeared with his hands on his hips by the creek's edge. He had to duck as a rather large fish sailed by his head and landed on the grass behind him.
“I hope that was not intentional,” he said in a half-serious manner.
She looked up, shocked at the voice. “I'm sorry! I didn't see you standing there.”
He chuckled. “I think you've made up for your relaxing afternoon.” He reached out a hand. “Come on.”
Kiera smiled wearily as she took his hand, amazed that her numb legs still obeyed her commands. Kiera's teeth chattered as her boots sloshed towards the glowing sod homes. They paused as Bjorn effortlessly lifted a massive log up from the pile of stacked firewood, then carried it towards the doorway of the largest building and the waiting hearth beyond. Kiera never stopped marvelling at Bjorn's strength. She had once seen him lift a sick cow off the pinned leg of a fellow farmer. The man, she was sure, had strength that could rival a Norse god.
Bjorn and Kiera ducked under the low frame of the doorway. Kiera suppressed the urge to cough as the air suddenly became heavy with smoke and festive bantering. Bjorn threw the massive piece of wood into the crackling hearth, walked past two families feasting on fish, then stopped at a gathering in the far corner of the shelter. Kiera sat down heavily on a wooden stump, shivering. She was immediately attacked from behind by a tiny set of arms and a high-pitched squeal.
“Kiera! Kiera! You're back!”
Kiera reached back, pulled the little assailant over her head, upside down, and flipped the young girl onto her lap. Two huge blue eyes looked up at her with excitement. Bouncing, she waved a half-eaten piece of fish in one hand.
“Isn't it the most wonderful thing you have ever tasted?” she said, in awe. “This is my eleventh piece. Mama said I could have as much as I wanted. I've never had as much as I wanted, unless I'm with you when we're blueberry picking. Oops! I'm sorry, Kiera. I wasn't supposed to say that. Mama, you didn't hear that!”
Smiling, Kiera shook her head at her young friend's exuberance and looked over at the tall, blonde woman sitting next to her. Her beautiful hair had been loosely braided and hung almost to her waist. Her shoulders were covered with a wool cloak. Something moved within the cocoon she held against her chest. The soft, smacking sound of a contented nursing baby could be heard above the din of the noisy feast. She smiled, reached out tenderly and caressed Kiera's cheek.
“You're frozen. I hope Bjorn wasn't too hard on you.”
Keira shook her head but grimaced as she tried to wiggle her frozen toes. “No. I deserved it. I should have picked more berries.”
Dagmar looked down at her daughter. “Lorna, get Kiera her dinner.”
Lorna bounced over to the fire and picked up a wooden pallet piled high with salmon and potatoes. She merrily skipped it back to Kiera.
Dagmar nodded at the food. “I saved this for you. Enjoy.”
Kiera pinched a chunk of steaming pink salmon and placed it in her mouth. Her first chew released a flavor so wonderful that her entire body tingled in delight. Meanwhile, Dagmar had separated herself from the infant, who was now slung over her shoulder. After several pats, the baby produced a belch that seemed Impossibly large for such a small person. Dagmar smiled and gently rocked the baby into a deep sleep.
Lorna tugged on Kiera's skirt. “Did you remember?” she asked, batting her long lashes.
Kiera shrugged. “Remember? Was I supposed to remember something?”
“Your surprise! You said you would have a surprise!”
“Oh, yes,” Kiera smiled, winking at Dagmar. “The surprise. I remember now.”
She reached under her wool cape and pulled out a small sack. Lorna gasped in excitement.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
As if it were the most valuable present in the whole world, Lorna carefully pulled apart the top of the pouch and a grin broke across her face.
“Raspberries!”
“I found a small stand of raspberries near the edge of the river. Not enough for a family, but just enough to surprise a very sweet, young girl.”
Lorna turned. “Mama, can I share them with my friends?”
“Go ahead. But it will be bedtime shortly.”
“Thank you, Mama!”
Dagmar reached out to Kiera. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Together they watched Lorna and her friends chattering excitedly while they sampled the sweet treasure. Kiera took another bite of her salmon and let her eyes drift to the far door and the darkness beyond. “When I'm out there in the meadow, sometimes I'm overwhelmed by the beauty of this land. The flowers. The food. The endless forests. It's like a paradise, when you compare it to what we left behind in Greenland.”
“Yes,” said Dagmar, sighing, “but it is a paradise already claimed.”
Kiera frowned. “The skraelings.”
Dagmar nodded. “Although it has been over two months since their last raid, I fear that we will soon see them again.”
“I understand the concern of the parents regarding the children's safety, but I feel so sorry for Lorna and the others, not being able