wind screamed into the tiny vessel, tearing at every sailor on board the ship. An arcing tongue of lightning licked across the sky. The tremendous crash of thunder that followed had Kiera thinking that the entire earth had just been shattered. Lifting her head, she was instantly blinded by a sudden crash of sea water. Everyone held on for their lives. The bow rocketed up the face of a tremendous wave, and for a moment, Kiera felt as weightless as a feather. Her body left the bench until suddenly, she crashed hard into the ribbing between the benches as the ship zoomed down the back side of the wave. As the bow shot up the face of the next swell, a loud crack caused her to glance over her shoulder.
A furious blast of wind had snapped one of the ropes holding together the lashed booms, allowing the wind to rip into the protected sail. The remaining ropes quickly burst apart, and with an explosive bang, the sail opened up its heart to the storm.
The world around Kiera slowed to a crawl. Through the rain, she could read the terror on Thorfinn's face as the sail flew open. She saw the gust snap the boom upwards. The crack of the stay next to her echoed in her ears as it broke away from the side of the ship. She could feel the sudden jerk on her leg as it was snapped upward, her ankle caught in the loose coil of rope that rocketed skywards with the wooden boom. She could see Bjorn's eyes grow wide with panic as her body launched from the floor, upside down, and soared into space. Her mind went numb as she realized she had been catapulted far beyond the safety of the ship. The ocean and ship spun like toys below her. For what seemed like an eternity, she floated within the storm, hoping that by some miracle, she would continue her upward climb to heaven rather than fall down into the gaping mouth of what lay below.
She fell. Face first, the ocean hit her body like a stone wall. The air was smacked out of her lungs, and she fell limp beneath the waves and into the eerie, serene darkness beneath. Only the sharp iciness of the water and her will to survive drove her arms into a drunken crawl for the surface. The seconds seemed like hours as the changing surface stayed terrifyingly beyond her panicked reach.
Finally, her head broke the surface, only to be lashed mercilessly by the salty foam of the storm. She managed to gulp in a lungful of air and sea spray. Gagging, she tried again. Her hip seared with pain. Twisting, she scanned her obscured surroundings. The boat was nowhere to be seen.
“Bjorn! Thorfinn! I'm over here!”
Only the howl of the storm answered her calls. She tried to clear the stinging salt water from her eyes. As a wave heaved her helplessly up into the sky, she waited, timing herself for the peak. Then as the wave reached the apex of its swell, she raised herself up and looked in all directions. There! She could see a dark, rocky outline to her right, just before the ocean sucked her back down into the trough of the next wave.
Moving her two arms and one good leg, she swam as best she could through the rough seas, waiting for each wave to lift her up in order to regain her bearings. The shore was not far, but the chilling cold of the North Atlantic had worked its way through her wool garments and was quickly draining her strength. She pushed herself onward, aware that each pull with her arms was weaker than the last. She was nearly there. The boom of the surf against the rocks was almost deafening. She briefly wondered whether she would make it to shore only to be crushed on the rocks. She had no choice. Her strength was almost gone, and death was not an option. She continued her laboured swim.
The next wave grabbed her body and threw her forward. She bodysurfed within the curl towards the jagged shoreline. The wave passed by, and what now lay ahead terrified her. Just in front of her were two huge, jagged boulders. A small gap between them led to the stony shore beyond. It was her only hope. She could feel the next wave building behind her. There would be only one chance. With several kicks, she lined herself up as best she could and allowed the wave to rocket her forward.
She almost made it. While her body flashed through the gap with the surging water, her injured left leg caught the sharp edge of the righthand boulder, sending fiery pain throughout her entire body. In agony, she crumpled into a heap amid the frothing surf. Kiera was washed up like a piece of driftwood onto a rough beach of pebbles and rocks, tumbling until the water's momentum died, and she was left groaning in agony. Another wave swept over her. She writhed and screamed as her leg twisted in the surf. Her mind tried to rise above the anguish. Staying in the surf would be death. She tried to crawl but couldn't. The next wave burst through the rocks, submerged her and again twisted her injured leg into unbelievable explosions of pain.
The wave receded. Gasping for breath, she let her legs hang limply behind her as she dug her fingers into the slippery rocks and dragged herself, inch by inch, away from the churning water. How long it took, she had no idea, but somehow she pulled her body beyond the reach of the surf.
The pain was simply too much. Exhausted and curled up at the base of a rock face, she could no longer feel the icy rain pelting her body. She felt her mind slip away from the horror of reality and into the comfort of inner darkness. She welcomed the peace that was awaiting her in the world beyond. Her life here was over.
Then, before she completely submitted to unconsciousness, she felt something touch her. There was a slight tug on her neck, perhaps from her necklace. For a moment, she willed her burning eyes to open. In the dark twilight, she made out the outline of a face looking down at her. Where was she? The voice! The beautiful language of her birth tongue! Heaven! Only in heaven could it be possible. The voice of an angel had spoken to her. She allowed the darkness to envelop her once again. Before drifting away, Kiera let the glorious Celtic words sink into her memory.
SIX
It was as if she were trying to swim up from the depths of the darkest ocean. Kiera floated through layers of grey thoughts and foggy memories. She remembered the time she had burned her hand on the hot kettle, and the fiery tears as her mother bathed her injury in a barrel of cool rain water. She tasted the salt on the fish her grandmother had always prepared before the family attended evening mass. She felt the icy cold rain that had pelted her shivering body as she was led away, sobbing, in the hold of the Viking ship after the invaders had sacked her home and village. Kiera wondered if she was living her life in reverse. Was this the process of life after death? She searched for a beacon to follow, a light to guide her to the afterworld.
Pain! Her cry of anguish cut ferociously through layers of confusion and opened a cruel portal back to reality. Somewhere deep within her mind, she was aware that she was being moved, and with each bump, an invisible knife sliced cleanly through her lower leg. Her senses began to return. The thundering of the ocean surf was now only a distant rumble. The scent of wet pine tingled within her nostrils.
With great effort, she forced her eyes open. Perhaps she was still dreaming, for there was darkness everywhere. No. There was a strange shadow hovering above her. It looked like the upside-down and backwards silhouette of a man. In her delirious state, she found the angle almost amusing. What was happening? Under her, she felt a soft cushion that bounced in a rhythmic pattern. Her fingertips reached down and touched soft pine needles. It was then that she realized that she was being dragged on a thick bough of pine.
Before she could completely piece together her thoughts, the improvised stretcher jolted upwards as it struck something large and unseen. The stranger grunted at the impact. The collision rocked her body onto her injured leg. Unbearable pain tore through her. It was simply too much agony to bear. Her ragged voice managed a hoarse whimper before her tortured thoughts disintegrated back into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness.
Kiera's nose twitched at the tickling sensation of smoke. She wondered why she couldn't hear the children playing in the longhouse or the women chattering as they began the morning meal preparations. A gentle breeze kissed her forehead as she struggled to open her eyes. Something was wrong. The air in the longhouse was always stale
