Lord of the Runes (17 page)

“It's not that, Asa. Please sit. Just for a moment.” When she hesitated, he surrounded her hand in his and caressed her palm. “Please.”

Pressing her lips together, she sank back down. She didn't want to hear what he had to say, didn't want it to make a difference in what she would feel for him. The pain would still be there.

“I know you're hurting.”

She frowned at him. “What do you mean? I was almost frozen, but I wasn't injured.”

“That's not what I mean.” He looked at their joined hands. “What you saw on the night before Jul, with Estrid and me, wasn't what you thought.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Asa, I can put things together. While we carved the second rune, you and I shared something very rare and powerful. But it wasn't just the ancient powers that coursed through us that night. It was something more. Something between us as a man and a woman.”

She drew a breath to deny it, but she let it out, leaving the words unspoken.

“After that, when you left, I followed you outside to speak to you, so I know you were there. But Estrid stopped me and you saw us talking.”

“I saw you embracing.” She drew back, though he didn't let go of her hand. “That's your choice. It has nothing to do with me.”

“You saw her embracing
me
. I didn't return it.” He paused as though searching for the right words. “She misunderstood my feelings for her. I have none. I told her so and I fear she became upset. I didn't want to hurt her, but I had to tell her the truth.”

That sounded like Estrid. She was so desperate for a man to love her that she often overreacted to any small kindness. She'd even thrown herself at
him
, the snake who'd been her stepfather. Granted, it had been before he'd turned on them all. Asa shuddered, blocking the memory as always.

Did she dare believe Eirik? And even if she did, why should that matter? But it did matter. The weight of anger and hurt that had lain within her these past few days lifted.

He picked up the hand he was still holding and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm. She stared, her bones all but melting under his gaze.

“They do this in Francia. They say it is pleasing to women.”

His smile was infectious and she ducked her head as she gave in to it. This pressing of the lips to her hand was nice. Kissing was known in their culture, and the women of the village seemed to approve, judging by their talk in the weaving room. She wouldn't know.

“Very sweet, as I thought it would be.” He kissed the back of her hand and let go, the tips of his fingers brushing along her skin. “It's late and you should rest. I enjoyed playing our games and I hope we can do so again soon. Sleep well.”

His eyes held that sparkle again. She could become accustomed to their light and to the warmth it stirred in her. He rose and walked to his sleeping chamber. His stride was so free and easy, that of a man who knew his way in the world and took hold of it.

She sat up and struggled to shake off his spell. That had to be what it was. He was a rune caster. Who knew what powers he held? They had swirled around her as they'd carved the runes, and look how she had fallen under his influence then. And now.

Even if he hadn't been with Estrid, that still didn't mean he would want Asa. He'd seen her fear, her panic at his touch. Why would he wish to be with someone like her when he could have any woman? In the past, she'd seen couples together, embracing, kissing. Loving. For other women, that was natural. But not for her. He needed a beautiful, affectionate, undamaged woman who could give him what he wanted. What every man wanted.

She stared into the fire. And it couldn't be her.

“M
y husband is dead, Jarl Magnus.”

Asa dropped her carving knife and ran to the door of the weaving room. Rakel, a woman who lived on a farmstead nearby, knelt at Magnus's feet as he sat in his chair upon the dais in the hall. He reached down and drew her up. Several of the women of the household came to support her. She collapsed in their arms, crying. “The outcasts came and took everything. All our livestock and our food. My husband tried to stop them and they cut him down.”

Magnus stood. “Arne, gather the men. We'll pursue them while the tracks are fresh. This time, we'll find them.”

Asa rushed into her room and stripped off her gown. The men been hunting the outcasts every day for the past week, but all the traces of them they found were old. Now, with no falling snow to cover their tracks, the criminals would be easy to follow.

The warriors had all gathered in front of the longhouse. Asa set her shield on her back and tied on her skis. Her mind was clear, focused, and she needed to remain that way. Magnus skied over to her.

“Either Leif, Eirik, or I will be beside you at all times. Don't lose sight of us, no matter what happens.”

Eirik? That was interesting. She smiled. “Ah yes, so I can better protect you all, brother?” She spoke loud enough that the men heard her. They struck their shields in appreciation, laughing.

“I mean it, Asa.” He spoke low. “They have bows, which means they can kill us from afar. We may have to make a shield wall in an instant and you have to be near us. Don't get separated.”

She sobered. “I won't. I know what I'm about, Magnus. After all, I had the best instructors.”

“Flatterer.” He raised his voice to his men. “We'll fan out in our assigned groups. Everyone will move toward the farmstead. Stay sharp. We can be certain we'll have to mount a defense first. Then we'll draw them in.”

Eirik had stayed to the side. He poled his way to her and his face was grim. They hadn't spoken much since the night they'd played
tafl
, but he'd been gone from the longhouse so often, she'd only seen him late at night. He ate, then went to bed. In the mornings, by the time she rose, he'd already vanished for the day again. He'd gone with the warriors a few times, but not always.

“If your brothers or I tell you to do something, don't even think. Just do it.” He checked his sword, loosening it in its sheath.

She looked at him. “I
have
done this before.”

“On the seas. This is different. We can expect an ambush, whereas when you fought, you could see them coming.”

“I know.” A tiny flicker of trepidation spread out within her. She ignored it. It would be as it would be.

Not knowing if the outcasts were nearby, the warriors kept silent as they left the village, reining in their usual banter. Gliding on skis through the surrounding woods, Magnus and Eirik stayed to either side of Asa. Leif was with his own warriors a short way off. They traveled in groups, staying within hearing range in case the outcasts attacked one of them. Then the others could come to assist.

The farmstead was in ruins. The outcasts had smashed all the furnishings, broken the dishes, and killed or taken all the livestock.

Magnus cursed as he leaned on his ski poles. “There was no reason for them to do this unless it was in retribution for Eirik's killing one of them to protect me.”

“Or to draw us into a confrontation,” Eirik said. “To raise the stakes.”

“Why?” Asa glided closer to them. “They can't want to take us on in direct conflict. We're too powerful.”

“We don't know how many of them there are.” Magnus watched as his men checked the buildings. “For all we know, they might outnumber us.”

“If it comes to a war with them,” Eirik said, “do you have any allies farther west, near the coast?”

“My closest neighbor in the next valley is my greatest rival in trading, and we keep apart. He killed the old jarl who ruled there, and took over the village. I have many other contacts for trade. But not for warfare. We're so isolated, we've never worried about it before. We're equipped to defend our merchant vessels, but you only need so many men per ship for that. This is something very different.”

Eirik nodded. He looked deep in thought, his gaze on the trees beyond the clearing.

“I've found their tracks.” One of Magnus's men poled over to them, and pointed. “They've headed north.”

“Then, we follow.” Magnus signaled the groups to start off.

They hadn't skied far when Eirik slowed. “Wait.”

Everyone in their group stopped. He held his hand up, his eyes unfocused. Magnus looked at Asa, but she shrugged.

“They're ahead of us. Coming this way.” Without waiting for the others, Eirik slashed the ties on his skis and pulled his shield from his back.

Magnus watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Prepare for battle.”

She cut her own skis free and slipped her shield into position. If Magnus trusted Eirik, so did she. Perhaps the gods had given him, a rune caster, other ways of sensing. Their warriors couldn't take the chance and not heed him.

They moved, silent and wary, through the trees. Warning the other groups would give away their own position. All they could do was move forward and hope they engaged the outcasts first.

An arrow struck Arne's shield. Shouting, they all raised their own. Asa lifted hers and an arrow hit it at chest level.

Magnus leaped to stand at her back, and Eirik moved to her side. Magnus yelled for the men to circle. They all came together, their shields to the outside. Those in the center held theirs high while the men on the outside knelt and held theirs in front of them at different levels. Magnus hauled her behind him, into the middle. She lifted her shield flat overhead, blocking the top space.

Arrows impacted the shields from all directions. Several of them penetrated the shield wall, hitting men. One man fell. None of the other wounds appeared to be life threatening.

Leif's yell echoed through the woods and Asa smiled, waiting. At the sound of battle, those with bows readied them.

Magnus nodded. “Shields down.”

The men on the outside lowered their shields. Those behind them let their own arrows fly, aiming for the outcasts who were running from Leif's men.

Eirik stood with Asa and four of their men, his sword raised. “Good tactic. Concentrate their attention on one group. Attack from behind with another.”

Several of the outcasts ran toward them. They met, shield to shield. Asa couldn't withstand the full impact of a line of men, so she hung back. As the men battered each other with their shields, she turned hers edge first and struck through the openings. The metal rim shattered a shield and she followed through with a sword cut. Ducking a spear thrust from overhead, she slammed the iron boss in the center of her shield into the arm of an outcast. He tried to sweep her shield aside with his own, leaving himself open. She slew him, then looked for another opponent.

Eirik fought not far from her. He was unstoppable, never hesitating, his blade like an arc of light. The bodies of the men he had killed lay in a bloody pile around him. He stepped over them to take on another man.

Magnus dispatched his own adversary and turned toward her. His eyes went wide. Air whistled behind her and she spun and ducked, wedging her shield against her entire arm and shoulder for more strength. An axe smashed into it, shattering it. The impact stunned her. Pain speared up her arm, into her shoulder. She dropped the remains of her shield. Eirik yelled her name from behind, but she didn't take her eyes off the large man grinning at her. He hefted his axe again and came at her.

She grabbed her cloak and swept it in front of her as she leaped aside. Her shoulder blazed when she flipped the material over the man's arm as he tried to strike her. It tangled in his axe and she yanked. He didn't let go of the handle. The unexpected tactic threw him off balance, right toward her. Aided by his momentum, she drove her sword blade into his stomach. He fell, screaming. She tugged the blade back out of his body and sliced his throat, silencing him.

Her arm burned as she stood staring down at him, his blood pooling at her feet. Her own blood raced, her breath coming hard and fast. Her muscles tightened with strength and elation. Eirik and Magnus reached her side together. Her brother grabbed her.

“Are you all right? Your arm—”

“Is fine.”

“Fall back to safety,” Eirik said. “Get your breath. We all do it. There's no dishonor in that.”

“I know. I'm fine. Let me just get another shield.”

“No need,” Leif said as he walked up to them. “We've won.” He pointed with his sword. “A few still fight, though most of them are dead, and we're chasing the rest of them. Some may get away, but not many.”

She closed her eyes, light-headed as the battle receded and realization hit her. That had been too close. She'd often used deflection for her defense, but she'd had no time to angle her shield. They weren't made to take that kind of impact straight on. At least her hand had continued to work well enough so she could grab her cloak.

“Was there any sign of a leader?” Eirik shrugged his shield over his back.

“No. They were quite a mismatched lot,” Leif said. “No leader, no plans or strategy that we could see. They were fighting to survive, while we fight to win.”

“Any idea of how many we lost?” Magnus shook the blood off his sword.

“No. We'll have to wait until the men who are chasing them return for a final tally. Not many, I think.”

“Any number is too much,” Magnus said. “Gather our men, strip the bodies of the outcasts, and dump them in the ground somewhere. They don't deserve a pyre that will send them to the gods.”

Leif nodded and strode away, calling out orders. Asa knelt and wiped her blade on the clothes of the man she had killed. Blood had flecked her arms and spattered her clothing during the fight. If she was as filthy as Magnus and Eirik . . .

Wincing, she glanced up at Eirik.

“You fought well today.” His eyes were filled with admiration.

She shrugged and stood, sheathing her sword, but Magnus frowned.

“No, you didn't. You didn't stay near us as I told you to. Then your shield broke.” Magnus pulled her to him, embracing her hard. “We could have lost you.”

“No, Magnus. It was not the will of the gods.” He smelled of sweat and leather and the metallic tang of blood. She likely did as well. She leaned back in his strong arms and met his angry gaze. “We can't know where the tides of battle will sweep us. I couldn't look for you and fight my opponents at the same time.”

“Listen to me, Asa.”

“Leave me be, Magnus.” She stepped away from him. Weariness sapped her strength and her legs threatened to give out. Now that the fighting was over, all the battle-strength left her. She just wanted to get clean and go to sleep. She would ache tomorrow, but she couldn't show it. Magnus needed only a small excuse to forbid her to fight. She wasn't going to give him one.

Her brother turned his attention to Eirik. “How did you know they were ahead of us in the woods?”

“It was a feeling in my gut. Many warriors get it, if they've fought enough. It's more a matter of experience than anything else.”

Magnus smiled. “Do rune casters have to fight that often?”

“In some parts of the world I've been to, they do.”

Asa studied him. She'd had glimpses of him during the skirmish. Eirik hadn't fought like a man who had to defend himself from time to time. He'd fought like no one she'd ever seen before, even her brothers, with no regard for himself. None of the outcasts could have seen him deal them their death strokes, he'd moved so fast. He'd never used his shield to protect himself. It was part of his attack as he'd slammed it into the faces and bodies of those who faced him, and pressed it against their sword arms to render them defenseless while he slew them.

Magnus's warriors knew those tactics, but Eirik had used them with such efficiency and skill, he must have learned at a very high level. Blood spattered him, but none of it was his. Even her brothers and she had cuts and scrapes.

No one else showed the weariness that weighed her down. She stood taller and straightened her shoulders. And winced when the right one twinged. At least it wasn't the arm she used the most. Sometimes it worked to her advantage to use her sword in her left hand. It threw her opponents off.

Asa looked out over the battleground. Magnus and Leif spoke with several of their men who had returned from the woods. Eirik was with them. Their faces were grim, their bodies tense. The game had changed now. The outcasts no longer made quick strikes to take some livestock, which could be replaced. Both sides had shed blood. Now it was a matter of revenge and honor and the need to protect an entire people.

Now, it was a fight to the death.

* * *

The dreams came.

Asa dreaded the nights following the skirmish. She stayed awake later and later so she'd be too tired to dream. But nothing stopped them.

She'd considered carving the final rune herself. She had already drawn it on the dragon's neck. If she could just tap into the power she'd felt when she'd made the symbols on the right side, she might be able to do it herself. Then she wouldn't have to risk Eirik's touch again.

It didn't matter that he hadn't been with Estrid, or any of the other women. She couldn't be what he'd want her to be. It was better not to allow things to go further than they already had. If he helped her again, with what lay between them, it was inevitable they would become even closer this time. And that could not be. It would open her too wide to the memories Magnus said she must bury within her. But it made no difference how long she stared at the rune drawn in charcoal on the dragon. The magic eluded her.