The Islands of the Blessed

Skakki’s ship.

“Skakki may be badly outnumbered,” whispered Thorgil, “but if I were Adder-Tooth, I would not trust the loyalty of some of these men.”

Jack agreed. Many of them had served Bjorn and no one seemed to have much respect for Adder-Tooth. He wasn’t the kind of man who inspired devotion. Jack had noticed that the king kept a personal guard of twenty men close to him and guessed that these were his original crew. They hung back from the main body of travelers and insisted on keeping Jack and Thorgil with them. “The Bard will have a plan to rescue us,” Jack said quietly to Thorgil. “He always knows what to do.”

“The hogboon awakes! Run for your lives!” Adder-Tooth suddenly shouted.

The villagers panicked. Mothers snatched up children, men thrashed the sheep with sticks, the sheep bleated and bounded forward. The warriors ran behind, urging them on.

Big Half slung Little Half over his shoulder, but the extra weight slowed him down and they were quickly left behind. “You! Come with us!” commanded the king. Big Half reluctantly obeyed.

What rotten luck, thought Jack. Now we’ll have to spend the night on that wretched cliff. But to his surprise, instead of returning to the ruined hall, the troop turned aside. They went south and followed a faint trail at the bottom of a valley.

It was that time of evening when everything blurs together in a twilight, and very quickly Jack lost all sense of direction. Round and about they went through a confusing jumble of low hills. The sky was a bright gray and tendrils of mist drifted up from ponds gleaming like mirrors in the dark heather.

At last they reached a wide bowl in the midst of the hills with a single, solitary bulge rising in the middle. The men were huffing and puffing by now, and they stopped to catch their breath. A sunset glow still shone in the western sky. To the east a glorious full moon was rising. “What are you doing, master?” wailed a voice Jack recognized as Little Half’s. “We must flee to the hall as fast as we can!”

“Not this time,” Adder-Tooth said. “This time the debt will be paid in full.”

There was an immediate intake of breath among the men. The light was muted, but Jack was able to make out the shape of the bulge. It was far more regular than a natural feature and at the top was a solitary standing stone. Jack was willing to bet it had Pictish carvings on it.

“How will it be paid?” someone said.

Something struck Jack then: The king had said “paid in full”. Was it possible that Little Half had lied about Adder-Tooth not sacrificing to the hogboon? And that visitors to the king’s hall had conveniently disappeared?

“I never told you lads the whole story about the man buried in this barrow,” Adder-Tooth said. He sounded completely relaxed, as though he had nothing to worry about from whatever lurked in this hollow. “He was a Pictish king called Nechtan. It was rumored he’d been fed roasted wolf hearts as a child to make him savage. And savage he was,” Adder-Tooth said approvingly. “He made a pact with one of the old gods to sacrifice one of his own sons every ten years in return for long life. Eventually, he slew nine. One was left.

“Nechtan needed a wife to give him more sons and so, when he was a hundred and fifty years old, he arranged to marry a young princess. But on the wedding day his surviving son let an army of enemies into the hall. They slew Nechtan and carried off the princess. Ever since then his spirit has searched for her. If he accepts Thorgil in her place, he may leave the rest of us alone.”

“You won’t buy safety with this coward’s trick,” said Thorgil. “My brothers will avenge me!”

“I thought you wanted a princess for marriage,” objected Little Half.

“So I do,” Adder-Tooth said with a cold smile, “so I do. But not for me. You were willing enough to help me on other occasions, my treacherous friend—the odd visitor, a runaway slave. Your sleeping potions have been most useful.”

“Little Half, what have you been doing?” cried Big Half, aghast.

“Looking after you, you poor, stupid ox,” the dwarf said. “Do you think anyone would have hired you with your pitiful skills? You can’t even catch a ball. I was the one the lords wanted, the intelligent one who came up with entertainments and battle strategies. I served them for whatever purpose they wanted in return for tolerating you.”

All this took place while the moon’s rays had been strengthening, and the standing stone now stood out starkly with a long black shadow flowing behind it. “The hogboon will emerge when the moon stands directly overhead,” said Adder-Tooth. “By then we must be long gone. Bind them both and leave them on the barrow.”

“Take Thorgil with you,” said Jack. “She can’t replace Nechtan’s bride because she isn’t really a princess.”

“I am so!” said Thorgil.

“You aren’t helping a bit,” Jack said.

The king laughed. “Children, children, now isn’t the time to start squabbling. Save your energy for the hogboon.”

“At least give me a sword and let me meet my fate like a true warrior,” said the shield maiden.

“Ah, but you are not a warrior now, little princess,” said Adder-Tooth. “You are the bride Nechtan has been waiting for these long years. But don’t be afraid. He will not consume you, though I could not say the same for your friend. He will take you into his barrow to feast on earthworms and drink the cold dew that trickles inside.”

“Master, it isn’t right—” began Big Half. Jack heard the man grunt as someone, possibly Little Half, punched him in the stomach.

“Shut your mouth,” snarled the dwarf. Big Half began to whimper, a terrible sound from such a large man.

The warriors tied Jack and Thorgil up and carried them onto the barrow, after which Adder-Tooth called for a swift return to the hall. When their footsteps had died away, Thorgil said, “They took my knife, but if we can get off this barrow, we might find a sharp rock.”

How like her! Jack thought with admiration. She never gave up. He rolled across the grass and was pulled up short. “Something’s stopping me,” he said.

“Me too. Oh, curse it! Those wolf droppings have tethered us to that standing stone!” Their legs were bound and their hands were tied behind their backs, but with much effort, they managed to wriggle close enough to reach each other’s ropes. The cold made their fingers too clumsy to accomplish anything.

Thorgil declared she would sink her teeth into the hogboon’s throat like Sigmund when the wolf came for him. Jack didn’t point out that even Bjorn had been unable to harm the creature, and he’d had a sword.

The moon rose slowly, fading from gold to white. Its chill light flooded the hollow containing the barrow. “It must have been the Man in the Moon,” Jack said.

“What?” Thorgil had drifted asleep.

“That’s the kind of god who would ask you to sacrifice your sons,” Jack said. “Nechtan was in the service of Unlife.”

Thorgil shivered.

“That’s why the hogboon comes out when the moon is directly overhead. He’s still in thrall to it.” Jack twisted himself to look at the standing stone. It was clearly illuminated now, and he wasn’t surprised to see a crescent moon crossed by a broken arrow. Thorgil slept again, and Jack, though he fought to stay awake, found his eyes closing involuntarily. The next time they opened, the moon was almost overhead.

“Thorgil!”

She stirred. “I can’t understand this drowsiness. I’m so cold! How can I fall asleep?”

“It’s the standing stone,” said Jack. “It wants to lull you so you become easy prey. Last time a honeybee woke me. Too bad we don’t have one now.”

“The only thing that comes out after dark is bats,” she said.

Jack tried to think of something good, something that might protect them from the helplessness creeping over them. “Remember the Valley of Yggdrassil? Remember Mimir’s Well?”

“That was nice,” Thorgil said sleepily.

“Honeydew rained out of the upper branches of the Tree and the bees gathered it in midair. The Tree was pure life force, forever being destroyed and forever renewing itself. Valhalla, the Christian Heaven, and the Islands of the Blessed were among its leaves, along with other places we can only guess at. But of one thing I’m sure: The Man in the Moon was a leaf that shriveled up and fell from the Tree.”

“Was he?” said the shield maiden. Her voice was thick.