Soon, ere folk awakened, she would go back and rouse Tauno.
XI
FOR his guest Herr Carolus Brede, Niels Jonsen bought a yacht, small enough to single-hand but well enough built for the high seas. Her lading became tools, weapons, rope, cloth, and much else in the way of gear and stores. Rumor went that he planned to open clandestine trade with the Wends, under the nose of Hansa. But when he was ready, he simply dispatched three men and an extra pair of horses to Hornbaek. He and Carolus took the boat north, not south, up the Sound and west along the Zealand coast; and Fro Dagmar came too, though she was with child.
They passed the settlement. Off an unpeopled stretch marked by a tall fir, they dropped anchor and waited. Fishing craft were in view, from which night would veil them.
It came late, for this was the Eve of St. Hans, when the sun is not long nor far below Danish horizons. The sky was violet, so bright that few stars glimmered and they small and secret. Water sheened like burnished silver, changeably etched by cool air that carried fragrances of growth from the land. One could count the trees yonder, or read the palm of one’s beloved. On distant hilltops, baleflres glowed red; youths and maidens were dancing around them.
Clink, clink, said ripples against strakes. Bird calls sounded afar. Surf made a murmur. Little else broke the hush.
Then a swimmer surfaced and hailed softly in a foreign lan-guage. Tauno replied likewise. She drew nigh; he leaned over and helped her aboard. Drops gleamed downward off her nakedness.
They say there that the body of Ingeborg had become more
fully rounded than erstwhile, for its muscles gave it the motion
of a cat. Sunlight had laved it everywhere. Weather had turned
brown braids to deep amber. These things hardly mattered beside
the strangeness which radiated from her. The very countenance
of Ingeborg had subtly changed, become somehow fluid, both shy
and bold, heedless and wise, looking forth upon the world as a
lioness might, yet with something of otter, seal, and wide-ranging
tern in that gaze,
Tauno and she hugged each other for minutes, mouth to mouth,
“How have your days goneT’ he finally asked,
“Well indeed,” She chuckled. “Besides practicing what you taught me before you left, I’ve invented a trick or two of my own.
But I’ve missed you hard, 1 hope the cabin holds a stoutly timbered
bunk,”
“What?” he teased. “You seduced no handsome young men?”
Shadow-swift gravity fell upon her, “I want none but you,
Tauno,” she said like a virgin in love.
They had been speaking Danish. Their words distressed Fru Dagmar, as their behavior had. She trod forward, “I’ve laid out clothes for you,” she announced, “Let me show you where they are.”
Brows lifted above sparkling eyes, “Why, what need? They’d be shucked before daybreak.” Mirth departed as fast as it had come. Arms enfolded the woman. “Oh, blood of my dearest, how good to see you,” Stepping back: “And you’re to be a mother! That’s making you glow from within, did you know?”
“Would that 1 might rejoice for you,” Dagmar answered sadly,
“I can but pray,”
Tauno plucked the sleeve of Niels. “She ought to have stayed behind, your lady,” he said for the man alone to hear. “She’s too saintly for this.”
“But no less brave than aforetime,” her husband replied. “She cherishes a tiny hope we can keep you here, and thus maybe at last win your salvation, I’d like that myself,” His smile was rueful, “Also for the sake of your company, my shipmates. After you, I’m apt to find my fellows of earth lacking in salt.”
His glance fell on his friend’s vivid partner, lingered, sought hastily for his wife. ‘
Tauno sighed. “Spare yourselves, and us,” he urged. “We’ll
miss you likewise. But go we must, and unlikely it is you’ll ever
greet us again,”
Their companions heard that, “Yes, quick farewells are best,” said she who had risen from the depths, “Go straightway home and be glad in your lives.”
“Have you decided whither you’re bound?” Niels asked.
“No. How could we, when it’s into the unknown?” Tauno responded. “Westward, maybe to Vinland or beyond. Whole vast realms of nature, Faerie, and man must be there, untouched by Christendom, open for our adventuring.” He grinned. “Why, we might become gods.” Seeing Dagmar wince and sign herself: “Not that we’d seek to, but we might. Anything might happen, which is why we are going.”