Mistress of the Wind (12 page)

“Why are you asking this now, Astrid? I thought you trusted me, were happy with me.”

She made a frustrated sound. “I do. I am. But you involve me, and then you do not give me the information I need to make sense of it all. You ask everything of me, but you do not give me your trust.”

She was right. He had involved her, risked her life, without ever telling her the stakes. He had made so many mistakes.

“You know it’s not a matter of trust, it’s a matter of my bargain.”

“Norga has broken her side of it by sending the troll to kill me. Why can you not break yours?”

Bjorn stopped, he needed to be face to face with her for this. Astrid slipped down from his shoulders and stood before him.

“I am afraid she never agreed not to try to kill you, Astrid. She broke no oath sending that troll after you. I was afraid she would think better of the deal we struck, and I agreed to her terms. I thought you would be safe in the mountain, and I did not think through the consequences of keeping the details of my enchantment from you.”

Her eyes narrowed and Bjorn saw the outrage in them.

“You thought I’d accept everything you said, didn’t you? You thought you would give me orders and I would happily obey.”

She had him.

“I may have had that notion. I am aware of my error now, though.” And he bitterly regretted his lack of foresight.

“Why me, Bjorn? When you saw what I am, why did you not look for some more biddable creature as your companion?”

Did she not understand she was the only one? That there could be no replacement?

He could not tell her that, though. He’d thought she would instinctively realize there was no other, but to explain he’d had to find her and her alone would break the bargain with Norga. She had been so long in his thoughts, yet she knew nothing of him. It was hard to remember that.

“It would be far easier for me if you were more biddable.” He knew they’d stayed too long in one place, but he wanted this clear between them. “But I would never seek to replace you. Never.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out a hand to him. Sighed.

“You make it hard for me to deny you anything. I will tell you what my mother said.”

He did not let the flare of gratitude show. She had enough hold over him as it was.

“Tell me as we go.” He crouched for her to climb on, and felt her arms go around his neck for a hug as she settled on his back.

It cracked the final wall of ice inside him, and he nearly howled with pain.

Nearly cried with joy.

But instead of doing either, he began to run again, just like old times.

* * *

Yggren surrounded the mountain, standing like sentries at its foot, impossible to slip past.

Bjorn moved quietly through the trees, trying to find any weak point. He growled with frustration, and Astrid felt the tension in the muscles of his back. There was no weak point.

“It doesn’t matter that we cannot broach them,” he whispered to her. “I must make peace with them. I could enchant those near the entrance, and that would give us enough time to get within, but then we’d be trapped.”

“Are they all in league with Norga?” Astrid asked, wondering what manner of enchantress could command the frightening, powerful yggren.

“No. Impossible.” Bjorn turned deeper into the woods, and Astrid had the feeling he was searching for something, or someone. “They have always been in favor of the balance. I cannot believe Norga could have won them all over.”

“She hasn’t.”

Astrid gasped as the tree directly in front of them spoke. Then watched in shock as a man seemed to appear from the bark and leaves.

“Jorgen.” Bjorn sounded relieved, and Astrid realized he had been looking for this strange man.

She looked at him curiously. He was tall, tall as Tomas, tall as she imagined Bjorn, when he lay beside her in the dark. He wore clothes of brown and sage green, cleverly layered to make them appear like bark and leaves. His skin was a dark brown and though he was broad-chested and muscular, he was hard to see even when you knew where he stood. Astrid rubbed her eyes.

“Good day to you, I am Astrid.” She slipped off Bjorn’s back and gave a pretty curtsey, speaking softly even though they were well away from the yggren.

“I am Jorgen, my lady.” Jorgen bowed, speaking softly himself, quiet as the rustle of leaves.

“Why are the yggren standing against me, Jorgen? What do you know of this?” Bjorn cut across the pleasantries with impatience.

“I know only that since Sigurd’s death they have been waiting for your return.”

“Then I will speak with them. Can you act as my messenger?”

Astrid watched Jorgen nod slowly.

“I will approach Reidar. He stands near your entrance. What would you have me say?”

“That I consider the yggren honorable. That I wish to speak with Reidar leader to leader, and discover what has turned them against me.”

It seemed to Astrid no sooner had Jorgen nodded his agreement than he disappeared. She blinked.

“How does he do that?”

“It is not only his coloring. Jorgen is powerful in his own right. He healed me after the troll attack.”

“And this Reidar. He will not harm Jorgen?” She noticed Jorgen had not hesitated to take on the task of mediator for Bjorn.

“Jorgen is a vedfe, a forest sprite. Reidar would be foolish to harm him. Their people have been allies always, their lives tied up in the forests. If their argument is with me, and me alone, he is safe.”

“And if they are on Norga’s side. And wish to harm all loyal to you?”

“Jorgen will not be easy to kill.”

“Are there others like him?” Astrid looked through the trees and realized there could be a hundred vedfe right in front of her and she wouldn’t know it. She wondered with a shiver how often she had passed one in her own forest.

“There are others. Jorgen is their leader.”

“All men?” This place was full of men. Bjorn, Jorgen, Sigurd. Where were all the women?

“No. There are women vedfe.”

Well, she was glad of that, even though she couldn’t see them.

“Are the yggren all men?”

Bjorn shook his head. “I don’t know. They are a mysterious, ancient race. There aren’t many of them left.”

Jorgen seemed to step out of thin air into the clearing. “There lies their grudge. Sigurd’s death has shocked them. They would have you account for it.”

Bjorn nodded. “So I thought. Will you take care of my lady while I’m gone?”

“Of course.”

She saw a look pass between them, and she knew at once Bjorn meant he might be gone for good. That he was handing over permanent responsibility, should the yggren get the better of him.

She was not chattel. And she was not powerless. And she would most certainly not sit in the wood while he went off to battle, especially with the power of the wind at her disposal.

“Thank you, Jorgen, that won’t be necessary.” She kept her voice light and pleasant, and for a moment they did not catch her meaning.

“Astrid.” Bjorn’s voice held a warning.

“I will go with you, and help you if you need it,” she answered, and began walking back toward the mountain, leaving them slack-jawed in the clearing.

“I see why you say you will never hold her within the palace,” she heard Jorgen murmur.

“Quite right,” Bjorn answered. “Either Norga will kill her, or I will.”

Astrid smiled, and turned to him. “Come now, they are waiting, surely?”

“I could freeze you in place.”

“So you could.” She stared him down, and with a huff of breath he surrendered. Caught up with her.

“Stay hidden in the trees. I will not have you taken and used as a hostage.”

She nodded. “Unless you need me.”

He stopped.

“Bjorn, I will stay hidden. If your life is threatened, though, you can be sure I will step out from the forest and call on the wind to aid you.”

He started walking again, slowly, because they were near the forest’s edge, but she could see he had grave doubts.

“You are not alone anymore, Bear,” she said softly.

He twisted his head round, and his eyes pierced her with their intensity. She would have stumbled had Jorgen not suddenly been at her side, steadying her.

“Keep her safe,” Bjorn growled to his friend, and then he disappeared out onto the mountain side.

* * *

Reidar was waiting for him, and though Bjorn thought it unlikely every yggren was in Norga’s power, he felt a lurch of fear at the sight of so many of the powerful beings lined up around his mountain.

“Greetings,” he called, stepping out from the trees.

Every sentinel turned his way, although none left their posts.

“You have done us a grievous injury, Bjorn of the Mountain. What have you to say?” Reidar’s silver-grey limbs reflected the sun, and Bjorn could see he held a great anger in check. The yggren quivered with it, like an arrow shot badly from a bow. His tall, stick-like body hummed with tension.

Bjorn met his gaze, the silver eyes set in a head not much wider than his slender limbs, a man heated and stretched like glass, then turned to deadwood.

“Sigurd betrayed me and attacked me. He would have taken and killed my lady had I not stopped him.” Bjorn watched Reidar’s face carefully. There were murmurs from the other yggren up and down the line.

“Why would Sigurd betray you?” Reidar stilled for the first time since Bjorn had stepped from the wood.

“I hoped you could explain that.”

“I cannot.” Reidar frowned. “He was always in favor of the balance. Out of respect for the great tree. To side with Norga is a betrayal of everything we stand for. I do not believe it.”

“Why would I lie?” Bjorn spoke quickly as Reidar tensed for the attack. “I have no wish to anger the yggren. I have sacrificed for them, as much as for anyone. Ask yourselves, why was Sigurd fighting me?”

His words fell on deaf ears. The yggren began moving forward, their long legs eating up the ground.

“Stop.”

Astrid’s cry echoed off the cliffs and halted the yggren in their tracks.

“He tells the truth.”

Reidar cocked his head, looked at her with interest. Bjorn turned to look at her himself, saw her standing fearless in her dark brown cloak, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders, bright as the sun overhead.

“You are his lady. You would say anything to protect him.”

She acknowledged his point with a nod. “Yes, but would you trust the word of the wind?”

Reidar’s silver eyes widened. “I would.”

Bjorn remembered Jorgen telling him of the song of the trees and the wind. And what were the yggren but the magical deadwood of the greatest tree of all?

“Tell the yggren what happened in the clearing,” Astrid called out, and Bjorn felt a breeze spring up, making the autumn leaves dance in the air. It seemed to spin and twirl around each yggren in turn, whispering in each ear.

When it at last died out, Bjorn could feel a change in atmosphere. The yggren had gone from angry to shocked.

Reidar fell to his knees. “You have chosen your lady well.” His voice was hoarse, choked. “I do not know why Sigurd would bring such shame to the yggren, but I swear an oath I will find out.”

“I do not take the actions of one to be the actions of all, Reidar, but I would be grateful to hear if you do learn what hold Norga had over Sigurd.” Bjorn watched as the yggren got back to his feet.

“My lady.” Reidar bowed to Astrid, deeper than any bow he’d ever given Bjorn, and with a cry, the yggren raced down the slope and vanished into the trees.

“Thank you,” Astrid murmured, and Bjorn realized she was thanking the breeze that surrounded her, dancing leaves at her feet and playing with her hair.

It seemed he’d taken the mistress of the wind for his own, after all.

Chapter Nineteen

T
he candle lay in her little bundle under the bed like a stone in her shoe. A bur in her clothing. Demanding attention, no matter how she tried to ignore it.

It seemed the only thing she’d gotten from her trip home was heartache and worry.

Her father had finally severed the cord, and her mother had given her the means to . . .

To what?

Betray Bjorn? Was looking on him a betrayal? She had made no oath to Norga. She did not even know who Norga was.

He had asked her not to look at him. And she had told him she did not accept that.

The arguments rapped like a woodpecker at her brain.

And still, night after night, she chose to honor his request. The candle remained untouched.

Bjorn had yet to explain what her mother’s story meant. He’d listened, and told her he would think on it, but when she brought it up with him, he avoided a straight answer. And he had not let her out of the palace again.