Bonded: Book One of the ShadowLight Saga, an Epic Fantasy Adventure (4 page)

A crack sounded at the door,
followed by footsteps.

Unable to look backward to
see who had entered, Hallad called, "Who’s there?"

The footfalls continued,
coming faster.

"Who enters?" He asked more forcefully.

"Shush."

From behind a hand covered his mouth and a knife sliced
through his bonds. Hallad spun around. His father stood before him. A dark cape
concealed his clothing, disguising his station. His grimness commanded silence
as he drew his hand away.

"Your mother warned me of this day." The old godhi
contemplated his only son with sorrow.

"My mother—"

"Nei, son. Not Thyre. Your mother, Isla. You never knew
of her. I should have told you sooner, but," the old man paused, his face
sagging, "but I am an old fool."

Avarr's shoulders shrunk with defeat.

Hallad prickled at the unfamiliar sight. His father had
always been no less than a god to him, but tonight a sad, mortal man, conquered
by the weight he bore, stood before him.

The old man breathed deeply. His shoulders rose with effort
and, for a moment, the spark of the godhi returned. Hallad realized his father
put up the front on his behalf.

"There isn’t time. You must go now, for the time of
your birth mother’s prophecies have borne fruit. You must be quick and
obedient." The old godhi’s sunken demeanor turned urgent as he shuffled
his son toward the door. "Take the girl away from here to a place nordr of
Birka, to the Temple to Freyja. There you will find a woman named Ase Jorrun,
Second Priestess, Daughter of the Temple. She will guide you."

Avarr placed his hands on his son’s shoulders and for the first
time Hallad realized that they were the same height.

"Hear me well son, for your mother gave her life for
this cause and if it comes to that, so must you. Keep the girl safe at all
costs. Protect her with your life and honor."

"But . . . " Hallad hung onto the word in his
throat; he knew not to question his father, but so many questions formulated in
his mind: his mother, Thyre, the young woman, and Emma. He wanted answers, but
the insistence in the old man’s eyes silenced him.

"In time you will understand." The godhi’s face,
though tight with anxiety, softened as he beheld his son.

Hallad withdrew the young woman’s sword from its hiding
place and held the weapon out. Avarr’s signet glinted on the weapon's hilt in
the dim light.

"I know," said Avarr, but no other justification
came. The unanswered questions continued to linger between them until his
father added, "Son, you must watch your backside. Death follows in this
girl’s wake." The gravity of his tone drove his point.

"Father, what of Emma? How am I to protect the creature
that caused this tragedy?"

A wise smile crossed the godhi’s lips, lifting his sagging
features.

"Do you believe she caused this?"

"Nei," Hallad said before could think.

"You must trust that." The old man placed his hand
on Hallad’s thick chest, over his heart. Silence loomed between them. Then he
reached around and held his son in his arms, patting him roughly on the back.

"And you must trust this. She can lead you to Emma."
The godhi pulled back, studying Hallad as if he was trying to etch his features
deep within his memory.

"Then why the death sentence?" Hallad drew away
from him.

"There are too many old pains between Thyre and me to
explain." The old man released his son, but held him with his eyes. "One
day you will lead and you will understand, but now you must go. We have spent
too much time."

The godhi turned, leading Hallad from the barn. No one stood
guard and the only sound was the knocking in the distance, more than a hundred
paces away. Hallad’s father led him around the barn where the young woman
waited for him, seated on his father’s favorite steed, Windrunner. The dappled
gray gelding matched the spirit of the iron-edged woman, prancing beneath her
command. The woman’s control over the gray surprised Hallad, as only his father
and Emma had ever been able to tame the beast. His own horse, Thor, snorted
impatiently, his saddle packed with nap sacks and a bedroll. At his father’s
insistence, Hallad began to mount, but at the last moment Avarr reached out and
grabbed him, hugging him fiercely.

Awkwardly, Hallad pulled from his father’s grip and mounted.

"Now go my son, and keep my honor alive, for my time
has come." Grabbing his son’s hand, Avarr pressed an object into Hallad’s
palm.

"Father, if there is danger—"

"Only death waits here my son, you must go now and
never return." He held his son with his eyes, the object digging into Hallad's
hand. "Do you understand?"

Hallad glanced down as he father drew his hand away. His
father’s signet, formed into a mantle clasp, lay in his palm. Hallad nodded,
realizing the importance of the gift.

"Now go. It is time for me to meet my fate and you to
meet yours."

The old godhi slapped Thor’s chestnut haunches, coaxing the
horse onward. Windrunner pranced anxiously in Thor’s wake. Hallad glanced back
at his father.

"May the Norns shine upon you, my boy."

His father’s blessing was no more than a whisper
disappearing into the black night, but he would never forget the words.

Hallad turned and rode. The young woman, atop the grey, kept
pace alongside him without a word, their silence a comfort. It felt right—her
next to him. He thought she felt it too, though he couldn’t say how he knew. As
they trotted into the shadows, Hallad didn’t look back again; but he knew, with
unquestionable certainty, that his father watched him fade into the distant
night.

They only traveled a few hundred paces before the pounding
of hoof beats followed in their wake. Hallad reined in Thor and he skittered to
a halt, spraying dust up behind him. The young woman, quicker than Hallad, had already
checked the gray. They both spun to meet the oncoming rider.

The beating intensified, like drums in a sacrificial
ceremony, until Hallad caught sight of their pursuer. A silhouette spouting
dust barreled down upon them, sword drawn in the moonlight. The glint of metal
and labored breaths of rider and horse unnerved Hallad. As the follower reached
them, Hallad recognized his blood sworn.

"Have you nei honor? You, who would not avenge your own
sister’s death? Now you help her slayer to escape?"

Erik, eyes wild and reddened, swung his broad sword around
and jabbed the sharp edge toward Hallad.

The young woman protectively circled to his side, as Hallad
raised his hands in the air.

"Nei Erik, it is not like that. Let me explain."

"Explain Emma’s death? Explain your treason?"

Erik nudged the point of his blade into the Hallad’s thick
neck. The young woman pressed her gray between them, forcing Erik’s weapon
back. Erik pierced her with a hateful glare, shifting the sword from Hallad to
the woman. She tipped her chin up to oblige the tip.

"Stop this!" Hallad demanded. "You must
listen to me Erik."

"Why should I listen to a traitor?"

"For Emma’s sake, then, listen."

At the mention of Emma, the veins in Erik’s temples bulged.

"She can find Emma. It wasn’t her fault. She meant to
protect her."

"Lies!" Erik screamed. He trembled with anger.

"Nei, Erik. It’s true. By my father’s own words it is
true."

"Your own father sentenced you to death!"

"He released me and told me to protect this woman with
my life, told me she can lead me to Emma. How else would I be here and not tied
up waiting for my execution?"

Erik’s face burned with fury. Then the sizzle died as his
eyes glazed with thought.

"I know I owe you my life Erik. You are my blood sworn
because of that fact. I would not betray you."

Erik bowed his head momentarily. When he returned Hallad’s
stare, both hope and hatred mingled in his facade.

"I will go with you, if only to find Emma, and because
until this night I have never known you to speak anything but the truth."

Erik raised his sword, forcing the young woman to lift her
chin another notch. She acquiesced with ease as if stretching her neck on her
own accord.

"But if at any time I find out this creature killed my
Emma, I will take her head from her neck with my own hands." He jerked the
metal away from the young woman, waving it toward Hallad. "And sworn blood
brother or not, if you try to stop me it will be your head on a spit next to
hers."

"And I by your side, brother," a voice said in the
distance as a red-caped figure trotted toward them.

"Go home Rolf!" Erik yelled back.

"I will not," replied the younger brother as he
joined the circle.  Rolf sat atop a white mare he called Idunn in tribute to
his favorite god's consort. The beast's mane and tail were plaited with ribbons. 
Hallad wondered if the younger brother groomed the animal in such a ridiculous
way every morning.

"I mean it Rolf, go home to mother!"

"You cannot treat me like a child."

"Then do not act like one."

Erik turned his mount, ignoring his younger brother. Hallad
and the young woman nudged their horses into a trot, leaving Rolf behind. Moments
later a fourth set of hoof beats joined theirs and a tight smile flashed over
Erik’s face.

"Then hurry up about it," Erik called back,
"We won’t wait all night for you."

They traveled onward. The moon shone down like a beacon,
lighting their way, and Hallad thanked the gods for the full moon. Cold gusted
through the area as they cantered. The young woman’s behavior switched from
calm to upset. She shifted back and forth, head swinging side to side like she
had done in the Great Wood earlier that night.

Hallad perceived her discomfort almost as if it were his
own. Rolf and Erik eyed the woman suspiciously. The chill deepened, sending a
rush of frigid air through to their bones until they all shivered. The blast
came from behind them—from the village of Steadsby.

"By the halls of Valhalla," said Rolf. "Has
the Shadow returned?"

They shot apprehensive glances at one another.

"We should go back," Rolf said tentatively.

Avarr’s words stung Hallad’s head.
Only death waits here.
He could not disobey his father. He thought of the other warnings—about death
following in this girl’s wake and his mission to protect her.

"Nei," Hallad stated firmly. "We go on. Quickly."

He kicked Thor into a gallop.

"Is the son of the godhi such a coward?" Rolf
called at his back.

Hallad stiffened, reining his horse. The young woman pressed
into his side, her gray crowding Thor’s haunches, urging him to go onward.
Go
now and never return.
The words resounded again and again, an endless echo
in his mind, the pleading of his father’s face fixed in his memory.

"We need to move quickly." Even to his own ears,
Hallad sounded cruel.

"I do not take orders from the godhi’s son!" Rolf
replied.

Erik’s head swiveled between his little brother and Hallad,
considering between the two of them.

"I go with Hallad," Erik said to Rolf. "For
Emma."

Rolf’s shoulders hunched downward at Erik’s choice, but he bowed
his head and moved to his brother's side.

The chill grew unbearable, the ground hardening beneath the
horses’ hooves. Hallad, once again, kicked Thor into a run. The hoof beats of
the others sounded as they followed him. He sensed the woman next to him, like
an extension of himself.

Rolf kicked his mare to catch up with Hallad, bending in close.

"You are a cold man, Hallad Avarson."

Then he checked Idunn until he was back in sync with his
brother, leaving Hallad and the woman in the lead.

As they sped out into the harvest fields leading to the road
to Birka, Hallad thought of his father once again. Avarr had known he would
meet his fate. Hallad cursed himself silently. He had chosen obligation over
his own father’s life. He prayed Avarr would have a good seat at Odin’s table
in Valhalla. He thought of Thyre, but was strangely unmoved. Guilt tightened
around his throat as he thought of the others—they did not know his father had
warned him of a grim fate. Their own loved ones may suffer the consequences and
Hallad had not told them, making the decision to go onward out of his own duty.

Duty?
he wondered.
What exactly did that mean?

He thought of the woman entrusted to his protection and the
other two backsides he was now responsible for.

The young woman yanked at him from some unknown string and
he glanced at her. She spun her head around in the same moment to meet his
eyes, but he hastily looked ahead. His eyes burned from the wind and dirt as
they galloped. Thor snorted beneath him. Hallad’s jaw tightened with the effort
to fight back the flood of emotions threatening to break free.
Rule with
your head even though your heart calls.
His father's words drifted through
his memory. The woman’s presence tugged at him again, like a landslide, sucking
him under.

Emma awoke. Sleep still blurred her vision. Trying to sit
upright caused the contents of the strange room to spin. Her stomach lurched
and she sunk back down into the comfort beneath her.

Where am I?

Fragments popped in and out of her memory. The forest. Erik.
A strange woman. A cold blackness. Strong arms grabbing her, squeezing her
until she hurt. As she strained to remember, her thoughts dissipated like smoke
in the evening air. Emma struggled to grasp at them. They eluded her, shrouded
in a wall of haze.

The girl rubbed her sore eyes with the backs of her hands,
clearing her sight. A velvety material tickled her skin. A brief inspection of
her body revealed an unfamiliar gown
tightened around her waist; its plunging neckline exposed her modest cleavage.