Lord of the Runes (15 page)

The men backed away from her as she swept out of the room. Silvi and Nuallen followed her into the rear chamber she shared with her mother. Nuallen shut the door and stood guard in front of it.

Silvi said, “That was impressive. The lightning struck at just the right time. A fine coincidence.”

“Don't be so certain it was mere coincidence, Silvi.” Lifa leaned her staff against the wall. “It is the longest night. The gods do walk the earth now. I can't help but feel they see what has happened here and will aid us. They promised us we would always be here. But we need to help ourselves as well.”

She regarded Nuallen with a wry look. “I'm sorry for snapping my fingers at you and calling you ‘thrall,' but you've become most sullen.” She smiled as his lips quirked. “And how goes your campaign to convince them to accept you into their ranks?”

“It's slow, but progressing, mistress. They don't quite trust me yet, but they speak more freely around me now. By spring, I should have them believing my resentment toward you runs deep. When I disappear, they'll think I've run away.”

Her voice softened. “Thank you for what you did, Nuallen. I think it is we who will owe you the debt when all this is over.”

“And when it is over, Mistress, I shall ask your son, the jarl, for payment.” He lowered his green eyes.

“I would not expect otherwise. For now, we must continue our efforts until he returns. We should hold off on any more deaths until they relax their guard. But then—”

“I will be ready.” He raised his head, the iron collar around his powerful neck dark against his skin.

Silvi poured them cups of mead and handed them out. “To the Wild Hunt, then. May it be even more successful in the coming months.”

She sipped. How much longer could they hold out? The outcasts had abused many of the women in the village. Hakon had forced their men into back-breaking labor and kept their warriors chained and half-starved. Their stores would be depleted before winter ended and before they could harvest the early crops.

Perhaps that didn't matter to Hakon and his men. They wouldn't be here once the snows melted, so it wouldn't matter to them if the people starved after they left. As long as they had enough for themselves.

And if there wasn't enough? Silvi's blood ran cold. The outcasts might just kill off the villagers to ensure the food wouldn't run out too soon. Her hand shook as she set down her cup.

Odin might have to “hunt” more often and sooner than they had planned. If her mother and she could make Hakon's men even more afraid than they already were, they might rebel against him, or leave here altogether to save themselves. A divided force was always weaker.

Eirik knew he needed to return as soon as possible. But where was he? He was safe, for the runes had shown her so, not long after he'd left. It was important that he be at Vargfjell before their cousin left on his raiding journeys.

However, what was important to their family might not be of interest to the gods. Then again, the gods had made a promise to them long ago with the fallen star, and so Odin must help Haardvik.

Lightning struck close by again, as if in answer. The longhouse shook.

She needed to seek her own answers with the runes and within her heart. Find and touch Eirik's life force from time to time through them, as she had done before. This was the right time of year to call on the ancient wisdoms.

During the twelve nights of Jul, when the doorway between the worlds was open, she would have to step through and see what lay beyond.

 

E
irik tied the bone skates to his shoes and grinned as Birgitta slipped on the ice. Of course she just happened to fall close enough to Sjurd so he could catch her before her rear hit the frozen surface of the lake. She gave the stable hand a pretty smile and wobbled off.

Everyone from Thorsfell was out for the day. The weather was fine and they were still celebrating the twelve nights of Jul. Even he was taking a rest from his work on the rune stone.

He wanted a chance to speak to Asa. Ever since the night they'd last carved the runes in the dragon, she had avoided him. She'd done so when he'd first arrived in the village, but then she'd thawed somewhat. Or, in the case of their work together, she'd thawed quite a bit.

But after that, she'd been distant and he wanted to know why. If only he had found her right away after she'd fled outside that night. But Estrid had stopped him.

He drew a quick breath. Could that be it? Had Asa seen Estrid holding him? He would have seemed heartless at best, having been with her, then embracing Estrid right afterward.

Nodding to himself, he rose. He needed to make this right with Asa. Even if this misunderstanding meant nothing in the future, it would impede their work together now. She had already asked him to just tell her the right way to carve the last rune, but there was so much more to it than making cuts in a piece of wood.

He skated out onto the lake. Clusters of people laughed and fell and showed off their prowess. In the past, he'd skated as a means to travel, of course. It was often the quickest way to cross a fjord in the winter. But he'd seldom simply enjoyed himself as the villagers were doing.

Even Magnus's warriors were out for the day, though they were armed. What many of the large men lacked in grace, they made up for in sheer determination to skate the fastest and hardest. The skates were difficult to turn and stop, so there were several collisions, sending the victims flying across the ice. They ended up in laughing heaps on the snowy shore and he took care to avoid them.

Asa, though, skated with such grace, he could only watch her, admiration growing in him. She turned and spun in tight spirals, then stopped short, to head off in another direction. Her body had the strength of a warrior, with the lightness and agility of a woman. But their skates wouldn't allow such moves, so how could she maneuver like that?

Perhaps he'd ask her. Then he'd speak further with her and make certain she knew the truth about her cousin. He still hadn't spoken to Magnus about Estrid, but he would try to this day.

She sped off toward another part of the lake, away from the others, and he followed. He couldn't turn like she did, but he could skate fast and he glided over the smooth ice, matching her speed.

So beautiful and graceful, she appeared to fly, her cloak and her hair streaming out behind her. They rounded a curve in the shoreline, cutting them off from the others' sight, and he closed in.

Her foot slipped out from under her. She lost control and went down hard on the ice. It gave way beneath her and she plunged in, disappearing as though she'd never been there. If he hadn't seen it happen, he would never have suspected it.

Shouting for help, he sped up. She had to come back to the surface. He had to see her head, her hand, anything. But there was no sign of her. He approached the spot and slid to his knees. The ice held.

The water in the hole was still, small bits of ice floating in it. Crawling flat, he grimaced as the surface of the lake crackled beneath his weight. Thin lines spread out from beneath him like spider webs. He glanced behind him. No one had heard him. Even if they had, no one could come in time.

He reached the edge of the hole and looked in. “Asa?” Nothing moved. His heart pounded as he lay on his side and plunged his arm into the freezing water.

“
Asa
.” He felt around as far as he could, but found nothing. He would have to go in after her, though he would likely die as well. Still, if there was a chance . . .

Something touched his hand. He pushed himself farther over the edge and it cracked, but he reached in just a bit more.

He hit her arm and grabbed it, hard. The wrench almost pulled him in, but he hauled back, scrabbling on the slick surface as it shifted beneath him. A large crack appeared beside him, but he kept pulling.

Asa's upper body broke the surface, but she was limp, her eyes closed. He grasped her arm with both hands and heaved. She almost came onto the ice, but it shattered, sending her back in and he nearly went in on top of her. He backed up toward the shore, where the ice was thickest, still keeping hold on her arm while pulling her head out of the water again. He wouldn't lose his grip, or her.

Waterlogged and heavy, her clothing had likely kept her from gaining the surface to begin with. He tore the pin from her cloak, freeing her from the weight. It sank beside her. Ripping the bronze brooches from her woolen dress, he tore it away until she was clad only in her thin linen shift.

He gave another heave and drew her onto the ice. In the past, on his voyages, he'd seen warriors pulled from the waves, saved from the goddess Ran, who collected those who had drowned. They had water in their lungs that had to be expelled, and he'd seen it done.

He turned her over onto her stomach and pushed hard on her back. At first, nothing happened. He tried again. “Ran, you live in the sea, not the lakes. You won't have this woman.”

Over and over, he pushed on her back until, finally, she coughed and water rushed out of her mouth. He kept pumping until she was coughing and breathing on her own.

She was still unconscious and had turned blue, her skin as cold as death. He took off his own cloak and wrapped her in it so that only her head showed. The frigid air hit him and he gasped, but it would be so much worse for her. When he'd fallen into the fjord during the battle at Haardvik, the coldness of the water had nearly killed him, but it hadn't been full winter yet. Now it was. He had to get her to warmth immediately.

He slid her along the ice until they got to a more secure place. Balancing on his blades, he picked her up and pushed off. She was breathing but wasn't moving, and her skin was gray. He moved more slowly with her weight. Their skates weren't designed for a quick acceleration, but he clutched her closer to him and pushed with all his strength.

As he rounded the curve of the shoreline, he looked toward the crowd, far across the lake. They hadn't seen him yet, but he didn't head toward them. It would be shorter to the longhouse if he just kept going straight. He made it to the bank and climbed up, glancing back. The others must have seen him then, for they had started toward him, but he set Asa down, tore his skates off, and picked her up. He was stopping for no one.

He ran along the path to the village and rushed her into the longhouse. The fire burned low in the central hearth and he laid her beside it, where they'd placed him when he'd first come there during the blizzard.

Throwing more wood on the fire, he built up the blaze until it roared. Then he unrolled Asa from his cloak. She still breathed, though she hadn't woken yet. The servants had laid blankets near the fire to warm so when they all returned, they could wrap up in them. He grabbed several and knelt down beside her.

“You won't be happy with me, I think.” He tore open her shift and slipped it off her. “But I have a feeling you saw plenty of me in the sauna. You have to awaken to be even angrier at me than you already are.”

He'd dreamed of what she would look like beneath her heavy winter clothing. Now, all that mattered was that she was warm. And alive. He wrapped her in two blankets and placed her on another one. Her hair was sodden, so he pulled it out from under her and blotted it with another smaller blanket, then left it wrapped beside her.

She still wore her shoes and skates. He untied them from one foot and laid them aside, but when he took off the other skate, it didn't look right, so he examined it. It had broken. The bone had split along the length of it and the lower part, the blade, remained attached but might have shifted under her. At the speed she'd been going, she couldn't have controlled her movement, and when she fell, her impact against the normally safe ice must have shattered it beneath her.

The bone blades were sharper than usual, as though she had carved edges in them. Was this how she was able to turn like she had? But had it also weakened the skates? There was time to think on that later. He set them aside and went back to her. Her skin was a better color now and his shoulders unknotted in relief.

The front door burst open and Magnus strode in. Leif followed him, as did many of the villagers. He looked at Asa's wet shift on the floor and narrowed his eyes.

“What in the name of the gods happened?” He knelt beside Asa and Leif followed suit.

“She fell through the ice.” Eirik also dropped to one knee. “I was skating behind her and saw her fall. When I got there, I couldn't see her. I reached down and was able to find her in the water. I pulled her out.”

Magnus spoke to the crowd that had gathered inside the door. “She's alive. Everybody out except Birgitta.”

The villagers filed out, some craning to try to see Asa, but the brothers remained kneeling in front of her, blocking the view. When they had all left, Birgitta closed the door and hurried past them, promising to bring broth from the stew they were to have that night.

Magnus touched his sister's cheek, then regarded Eirik. “Do you want to tell me why her shift is lying on the floor?”

Eirik met his gaze. “I had to strip most of her clothes to get her out of the water. They weighed her down and she couldn't get back up to the surface. Her cloak and dress were of thick wool. They were like anchors. With them off, I was able to pull her out. I wrapped her in my cloak and brought her here as fast as I could. Her shift was wet. I couldn't let her stay in that while she was wrapped in blankets. You would have done the same thing.”

“Yes, but I'm her brother.” Magnus's voice was curt.

“And that makes it better to see her naked?” Leif pulled the blanket over her shoulders. “You know Eirik did the right thing. He saved her life and that's all that matters. We can never repay that.”

“No, we can't.” Magnus sighed. “And I thank you. If you hadn't been there, I don't want to think of what would have happened. Why were you following her to begin with?”

“I wanted to speak with her. That's all. We had a misunderstanding. I only wanted to straighten it out. We still need to work together on the runes for the dragon. There can be no animosity between us for the magic to work.”

“As long as that's all there is to it.”

It wasn't, but Magnus didn't need to know that. Yet.

“I have to show you something.” Eirik stood and they followed. He picked up the skate and handed it to Magnus. “It's broken there, along the length on the underside. She lost her balance just before she fell. But she is such a skilled skater, that's hard to believe. I think this is why.”

“I've rarely known her to fall, even when she was a child.” Magnus studied it, turning it over in his hand. “Look here.” He held it out for them to see. “This appears to be where a knife blade was driven into the bone and twisted, causing a split.”

Leif took it. “It wouldn't have been noticeable when Asa put them on. Who checks their skates that closely each time?”

“She's the only one who uses these?” Eirik took back the skate and examined it. There were marks at one end of the fracture. In his quick glance at it earlier, he had missed them.

“Yes. She keeps them in her room. See how she's altered these? The edge lets her turn more sharply.”

“Eirik?”

At the sound of Asa's soft voice, they all knelt beside her again. “I'm here.” Eirik brushed back her damp hair. Magnus cleared his throat, but Eirik ignored him. “How do you feel?”

She opened her eyes and looked at all of them. “Cold. So cold. My foot gave way and I couldn't stop. I went under, like I had rocks in my clothing. And I couldn't swim upward. I could see the surface. It was just out of reach. But then I heard Eirik calling me. And there was a light. I had to reach for it, so I did, one last time. I don't remember anything after that.”

“I took hold of your arm and pulled you out. Thank the gods you tried once more, or I wouldn't have been able to find you.” He pulled up the blankets so they covered her to her chin. “Your wet clothes were pulling you under. I'm afraid I had to tear off your three bronze brooches and they were lost in the lake. I'm sorry.”

“That's all right. I have others.” She closed her eyes with a slight smile. “Now, if it had been my gold brooches, that would be another matter altogether.”

“I'd buy you a dozen more.” He stroked her face for a moment longer, then moved away. He'd best back away before her brothers pulled their seaxes on him.

“Asa, Birgitta is bringing you some hot broth,” Magnus said. “It will help warm you from the inside. You need to drink it.”

“Yes, Magnus.” She seemed to slip back off to sleep, but the color was coming back into her face. Leif covered her with another blanket that had been warming by the fire.

Birgitta carried in a bowl of steaming broth, and Magnus roused her. He helped her sit up and the blanket slipped, baring her shoulders. Clutching the woven fabric to herself, she glanced at the wet shift lying on the floor near her. Her eyes widened. She looked up at Eirik as her cheeks colored.

He inclined his head to her and, after grabbing another cloak, left the longhouse. She would be in good hands between her servant and her brothers, so let them have their time with her. Soon, he would have his.