Read Online Catla and the Vikings by Mary Nelson - Free Book Online Page A

blessings until we meet again.” The small procession of walkers and four wagons set off toward the haven in the hills.
    Hugh turned to Catla. “I’m glad you are resting. You’re tired.”
    â€œI suppose I am.”
    â€œEdith will go part of the way and then come back. She likes a good fight, and she doesn’t want to miss the Norsemen.”
    Catla smiled at this fierce side of the woman who treated her so gently. She closed her eyes and tried to envision Covehithe as it had been, with everyone safe and happy. Then she moved her mind forward to see into the future. She’d meet with the women in their circle at the next Longest Day celebration. Girls were invited after their eleventh summer. She’d been invited last summer but hadn’t been interested. Now that she was thirteen and almost betrothed, she’d be expected. She wished she had gone last summer. Maybe she’d know better what to do about Olav.
    The next thing she felt was wolf fur tickling her nose. She rolled over and saw she was on a pile of sleeping robes inside a cottage. She stretched and sat up, lifting her skirt to check her sore leg. The bruise was turning yellow at the edges and was less tender when she touched it.
    Outside the cottage, people were talking. She listened. Had the Nord-devils come?
    No one shouted. Nothing seemed wrong.
    She left the cottage and approached the council circle.
    â€œHow do you feel?” Hugh asked. “Better?”
    â€œYes, I do. Was I asleep long?”
    â€œNot long. I was afraid you’d topple off the little stool, so I moved you inside.”
    â€œThank you. What’s happening now?”
    Hugh gestured to some weapons lying on the ground. “We’ve collected all the village weapons. Everyone needs to be armed, including you, Catla. You can choose when the villagers are done.”
    She felt for her catapult in the pouch which hung beside her drinking horn, and wished for her own short knife. She eyed a slim stave of ash. She’d choose it, if someone didn’t take it first, and a knife, if one were left.
    â€œPeter, you’ve got your short sword,” Hugh said. “Go stand watch and send the boys back to choose their weapons.” Peter nodded and trotted off.
    Hugh touched his sword. “I’ve got what I need. Matthew, have you got yours?”
    â€œAye, and I’m keeping it too,” Matthew growled.
    â€œFair enough. Claim your weapons, everyone,” Hugh said. “Edith has her knife, stave and catapult with her.” In the end, three skinning knives and a few staves, including the one Catla liked, were left.
    â€œCatla, choose a knife and a stave.”
    â€œAll right, Hugh. I like this stave. It’s not too heavy.” With a knife in her belt and a stave in hand, she swallowed hard, hoping she was ready, hoping she would know what to do when the Nord-devils came.
    Fergus explained the strategy. “Lie on the path behind the plants and bushes, close to a pile of throwing stones. Pelt them with the rocks after I give the signal. You men who are the pullers, position yourself beside the ropes.”
    Several men shifted next to each other. Catla focused on Fergus.
    â€œWhen they land,” Fergus continued, “let them get close to the oak sapling on the upriver side of the path. That’s when you rope-pullers will release the ambush. The rest of you, throw your rocks as hard as you can. Really pelt them! Then the nets will trap them.”
    Hugh said, “Good, Fergus. We’ll follow you.” Then he turned a somber face to the people of his village and said, “Our lives and those of our friends in Covehithe are at risk. This is the way we will win. They have better weapons, and killing is what they’re trained to do. We put in our military time fighting for our king and lord, but mainly we are peaceable folks, but clever. It’s wits, not weapons, that will win this