Iduna (5 page)

The next morning Iduna left breakfast preparations to Unger and Freya, riding off to find something to impress Vilir. To be honest, maybe she needed a break from camp. People were tense and irritable. Perhaps, like her, they also wanted to know where they were going next.

Freya had told her some of Vilir's preferences, and, if Iduna got far enough away from the exhausted surroundings near camp, she might find something suitable. She rode south and up a valley to find a lake with larger fish than the thinned-out variety remaining in the camp’s nearby streams. The ride was quiet and refreshing; the brisk air worked its own magic. When she reached an open meadow, she kicked her horse into a gallop and smiled broadly with growing exhilaration. She crouched in the stirrups and leaned low, yelling encouragement to the horse. The wind whipped by her, and the wildflowers passed in a multihued blur.

As she neared a stand of trees, she slowed to a trot. She patted her horse on the side and transitioned to a walk, turning to follow the stream upward to its source. In a few hours she reached a broad lake sheltered by steep mountains. The water was deep with shades of blue echoing the sky.

She set her horse free to munch on the fresh spring grass and took her saddlebags with her to the shore. She pulled out a ball of string and hook that she'd brought from Lawan. Digging into the leather pouch, she raised a single long worm into the air. It wiggled and squirmed. “Time to go to work,” she said aloud. Skewering him on the hook, she tossed him out gently into the shallows. A quick snap announced her first catch, a small fish. She caught ten small fish that way. A fish took the worm's place on the hook, and Iduna hiked around the lake to some boulders. She climbed up and dangled the line with fish attached above the deeper water. She lost two fish before finally catching a large one. Tucking the large fish away in her pack, she went back to leaning over the boulder and casting in the deep water below. She caught fish after fish. She had plenty but was enjoying herself too much to leave yet.

The day was quiet and the wind brisk, raising ripples on the lake and a constant rustle among the surrounding tree branches that were bare except for their early spring buds, promising leaves and flowers.

The sudden, deep roar behind her echoed through her body, every nerve instantly taut with terror. She closed her eyes as the roar faded and the echoes bounced off the mountains surrounding the lake. She wrapped the fishing line around her fist slowly while gathering the courage to open her eyes. Looking behind her, she saw an enormous brown cuffler on all fours with its eyes glaring into hers, his head swinging side to side. She took in the mangy hair, loose hide, and hungry eyes of a cuffler after a season's hibernation. He stood as tall as her horse when he was on all fours - he would be as large as a troll when standing and have the girth to match. At least he would have the girth after a few weeks of feeding. Since the Ull had taken much of the game in the area, it would be a rough year for him.

The cuffler’s sharp claws scraped on the rocks. His long brown pointy ears twitched. She tightened the strings closing her bag while pulling the strap over her head. Just as his shoulders signaled the beginning of his charge, she sprang from the outcropped boulder and dove into the water far below.

Plunging deep, she spread her arms and legs into an underwater breast stroke, trying to cover as much distance as possible underwater. Finally coming to the surface, she was pleased to see that she was at least one hundred yards from her fishing perch.

The cuffler stood on the beach waiting for her, panting with hunger.

The water was cold and full of the unknown. She tread water and tried to think of a solution before anything in the water started thinking of her. Any Elemental spell that could whisk the water and her to shore beyond the cuffler’s reach would require at least two casters. Summoning her calm, she moved the water in front of her down hard at an angle. The movement created a tall, fast-moving wave. As it neared the shore and the waiting cuffler, she pushed wind and caused the water to break hard over his head.

As the water and spray cleared, she saw the cuffler had dug in, bracing his legs and lowering his head. He looked up at her with hungry eyes. The cuffler was not going to move until fed.

After ten minutes of floating like a toy in a tub, she decided to try a different approach, something more like what her parents would have done. The cuffler was blind with hunger, just a beast with a hollow, echoing stomach. She still had the fish in her bag. She waded into the shallows, and the cuffler grew larger in her eyes. Gaining her feet now that water only reached to her midriff, she grabbed a slimy, wet fish from her bag and tossed it far to the right of the cuffler.

He didn't move.

Grabbing another fish, this one she hurled directly at him, smacking him in the snout. Startled, the cuffler let the fish bounce off him. He eyed her briefly then decided to examine the fish. He scarfed it up. When he turned to get the other one, she threw another farther off. He followed.

Seeing her opportunity, she started running through the shallows, legs lifting high and hurtling forward. As she gained land, she sprinted up the pebbled beach, dropped the last two fish for him and ran into the trees.

…

A half mile later, she knew she wasn't going to be cuffler lunch but despaired that she had nothing to cook for Vilir. He’d dismiss her or worse. She still had the fish line wrapped around her fist, but the lake was definitely the cuffler's lake. Sopping wet and cold, she wondered where her horse was.

“Oh, Yorin, I can't get back in time to make even a simple dinner without a horse." She whistled. Nothing. She whistled again. What would happen if she didn't make it back? Is there any way that she could get the information she needs otherwise? If she went back to look for the horse, would she run into the cuffler?

While she was pacing in a circle, thinking about what she could do, torn between going forward or back, she spied a patch of rhubarb. She yanked it out of the ground, muttering, and stuffed it into her wet bag. She stomped her way back to the lake—and the cuffler. Surely there must be something else that would endear her to Vilir. Fish would be impossible to get because of the stupid cuffler. She found a fresh patch of strawberries and tried to be a bit less brutish when picking them. The leaves of the rhubarb should cushion them in her bag.

Thankfully she had had her eyes open for plants. She spotted a fast-acting sleep plant. She shot a squirrel with her slingshot and stuffed him with the herb. Now she had a good snack for the cuffler and could risk going back to find her horse. Getting closer to the lake, she whistled again. Her horse came trotting. What a relief.

“It's so good to see you,” she said while she rubbed his nose.

The sound of a large object crashing through the undergrowth toward them made Iduna grab the saddle horn and leap on board. Dropping the squirrel behind her for good measure, she clicked her heels to the horse's side and took off.

Iduna entered Vilir’s tent with a large tray holding a heavily seasoned lamb dish. Her gaze darted quickly from her tray to the surroundings, trying to get a sense of the room and its inhabitants without looking disobedient.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The brown-haired man who had murdered the young female warrior was here. He was focused inward and pacing, which gave her time to catch herself. Just then, he looked at her, but Iduna had brought her head down in the subservient pose Freya used. Iduna emptied her mind and told herself to just absorb, like a leaf blowing in the wind. She was calm and ready. She would learn something tonight that she could take home.

“Senbo, stop pacing and sit. We will enjoy this meal,” Vilir said.

“You must believe me,” Senbo said, while slipping into a chair at the table.

“I don't,” Vilir said and sank his teeth into the leg of lamb.

Senbo popped up out of his chair and ran his fingers through his thick hair. He had amber eyes that moved swiftly in tempo with his racing mind.

“You need to raise the energy now,” Senbo said.

“Why?” Vilir asked automatically. He casually threw a bone from his dinner at Senbo’s feet, making Senbo jump. Vilir’s large dog ran over and began wrestling with the new toy. Senbo eyed the dog and backed away a few steps.

“You have to invade Lawan,” Senbo said.

“Why?” Vilir asked again.

The second “why” should have been a warning to Senbo, but he looked too anxious to heed it.

“Lawan will be a great prize. Their society is rich and”—Senbo's eyes lost their focus as he stared into the fire, opening and closing his hands unconsciously—“we need to beat their Spellcrafters and Elementalists.”

Vilir kept eating, though his sharp glance asked the question for him.

“When you defeat them, you will gain their power. It will be a rush like no other!”

Iduna held her emotions in check at finally learning what was going on. She felt incredibly lucky to learn of this beforehand, so Lawan would be prepared. And she just hoped her luck would hold as well as her ability to not react to the proposed decimation of her country.

“You need to do what I say.” Senbo swirled to face Vilir, trying to keep his attention. The air between them crackled. A log in the fire snapped, breaking the long and scary silence.

Maybe this was her moment. Maybe she should kill them both right now. There were sharp knives on the table from dinner. One lay within reach — it had a sturdy wooden handle and a keen edge. But if she acted without thinking it all the way through, she would be off the Path. Her years of training at the Institute in Cha kicked in, and she reminded herself to be prudent.

“I do what I want.” Vilir tossed the bone on his plate and took a deep drink, eyeing Senbo casually. Finally some survival instinct kicked in, and Senbo backed down.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Senbo sat at the table and started picking at his food.

The silence stretching between Vilir and Senbo tested Iduna’s will as she still considered killing them. She couldn’t take both of them. Vilir was a seasoned fighter. Yet it was more than that. He struck her as a man with the strength of two. At least. And she still didn’t understand why killing Elementalists and Spellcrafters would give him power. And what was the nature of this plague? Too much remained unknown to her.

Iduna placed a steaming clay pot with honeyed oats covered with sweetened strawberries and rhubarb on the table. This was the dish she had hoped would get her invited back, that would give her another chance to gather information. It smelled like spring and sweetness. She spooned a large helping onto Vilir’s, then Senbo's, plates. Spreading whipped cream on top, she stepped back. Vilir dug in with guttural enthusiasm. When he tapped his spoon on the pot, Iduna served more.

“You will cook tomorrow,” Vilir announced between heaping spoonfuls.

Iduna’s sigh of relief hissed quietly from her lips. She would have another chance to see whether Vilir would follow Senbo’s advice. It didn’t seem like Vilir respected Senbo. If that were the case, then Lawan could be safe. She didn’t want it to come to Lawan fighting this horde full of people whom she had laughed and lived with. If she killed Vilir now, Skuld or Dagna might take his place and take revenge on Lawan if they figured out she was spying for Lawan.

Vilir could be the one thing keeping the Ull from invading Lawan.

Senbo cleared his throat and watched Vilir eat. Iduna felt her nerves stretch with tension. The look on Senbo’s face was calculating, and she felt that whatever was adding up in his head was going to be costly.

“Leder Vilir,” Senbo said.

“Yes,” Vilir grunted.

“Leder Vilir, I hate to remind you, but you do remember what happened to your brother, don’t you?”

Vilir looked up from his food, and Iduna swore she could see the veins in his neck and forehead pulse with his wrath.

Right then a guard entered the tent. “Leder Vilir, we have a young warrior who claims he was robbed in that village to the south of camp. Would you like to hear the case now?” the guard asked.

“What did he lose?” Vilir asked.

“Just his clothes and weapons. He wasn’t going to report it, but when some of the more senior fighters learned of it, they thought it could be a sign of a rebellion,” the guard said.

“Any type of attack by these conquered people would be most unusual,” Senbo said to Vilir. “We should probably look into it.”

“No. I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” Vilir replied. He stood, and his dog came to his side. “I’m done here.” Vilir left the tent with his dog following behind him.

Iduna watched Senbo smile as he licked the cream from the spoon. His reaction made no sense to her and she left the tent more puzzled and worried than ever before.

“Why did you give away your cook? Don't you like good food?” Dagna sat at Skuld's table with a bowl of bland stew in front of her. She lifted her spoon and poured out its contents repeatedly while she talked.

“It will be worth it,” Skuld promised. He grimly ate his portion.

“Ah, so you are up to something.”

Yes, he was. He felt like he'd been going in and out of darkness for months now. It was a kind of torment. He had periods of lucidity, seeing what was going on around him, then lapsing into dark oblivion. Sometimes he even had an out-of-body awareness, watching his actions, his emotions, and yet feeling like he had no control over them. He actually preferred the complete fade-out instead of the powerless awareness. Even now he could feel the fog of darkness growing in his periphery.

He needed an ally and hoped that Dagna was less under the influence than the others. He suspected that less power had been used on them since they needed to have more mental presence in order to help lead and organize their forces. If she was fully under the influence, then her knowing his intentions would be the end of him. Dagna was fierce and brutal during the darkest periods. He remembered more than he wished.

The silence stretched thinly.

Wax dripped slowly down the side of the candle on the table in front of him and pooled at the base, turning back into its solid form quickly. The evenings were still brisk though the days had grown warm. Too warm for his liking. He wanted to return to the homeland. His tent smelled of loamy soil and mossy growth. He missed the pure crispness of being surrounded by snow as far as the eye could see.

“What are you up to?” Dagna asked.

Her face gave no hint to her thoughts.

His heart raced with hope.

She'd have jumped to the worst conclusion and struck him down if she'd been far gone. Perhaps she was but was waiting to see how much he could incriminate himself. He’d known her for years, and he still couldn’t read her.

“Never hurts to have Vilir happy, does it?” he said, taking the easy way out. “He’s been a slave to his stomach since he hit puberty. A man doesn’t grow that big without caring about food, right?” He laughed.

She finally swallowed a spoonful of the stew with a grimace. “At least it’s for a good cause.”

If only she knew.