The Beast of the North (34 page)

‘They are of the Ten,’ I breathed. ‘They—’ I began and hesitated.

He struck a fist on his chair so hard the chamber echoed. ‘Who? I tire of the mystery.’

‘The Blacktowers,’ I said.

He leaned back, shocked. ‘I see. I see. It is no wonder I have not seen her in my court for ages. I only know Illastria is still alive.’

‘Not even Shaduril Blacktower?’ I asked, holding my head.

He shook his head, sad to his core. ‘Oh, gods. She is walking?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered.

‘You will see, Maskan, soon, why that should not be possible. No, not one of them should be about save for Illastria. Tell me, how old is she?’

‘She is very old and very mad. She fears,’ I told him and felt terribly sorry for the old woman.

Magor shifted so fast it left me dizzy. He changed to a man-sized version of the king. He shuddered and shook his head. His hands glowed; he moved and glided down to me, aided by a strange wind. He stepped before me and grasped me. Then he embraced me. ‘Listen. Hel is the lady of the dead. She hates the gods; she hates her life, and while she is often fair to those who cross the bridge over Gjöll to her kingdom, the theft of her eye, it left her mad. We were abandoned here when they blew the Gjallarhorn on the gates. Our army was betrayed. In the end, we were up there on the hill. Inside it, in fact. Their soldiers had driven us back, the human armies. Their general fought my father, your grandfather who died. But I tricked her and sealed her in with the gauntlet, the Black Grip. We, the shapeshifters took Red Midgard for our own, unknown to men, except for the Blacktowers. And I have to say, I have learned to love humans. I have been a good king.’

‘Truly?’ I asked. ‘I lived in the Bad Man’s. You hung men. My family. Them,’ I stammered and cursed them for their lies. ‘You hung The Bear. Without a trial.’

He laughed. ‘We found the Bear. He had already been hung. So were the two women. Both were local peasants. You have been fooled there as well. Crec has been cutting many corners with the laws of the land, but a king has to have tact. We need him.’

‘I hate him,’ I spat. ‘Hated him.’

He scowled at that and went on. ‘Yes, I see. Good. You should. We are Jotuns. Not beasts. Being a king, Maskan, is not easy, and mistakes happen, sometimes for the lack of time. But Red Midgard has been a nation for thousands of years. Due to us.’

‘You live for thousands—’

‘So will you,’ he chuckled, and the Red Brother echoed him. ‘But Hel’s terrible spell? It is her way of resuming the war. She threw a seed to Midgard, probably all across Midgard, perhaps across the Nine Worlds. And that seed, my lovely boy, is that of death.’

I stared at him blankly.

‘They are draugr. The family is elder draugr, raised first, stronger and much more terrible than many other undead. All the Blacktowers died twenty years ago,’ he said softly. ‘All of them. Save for the old lady. Illastria. And she is afraid. No wonder, since she sees the dead walking around the new keep I built her.’

‘No,’ I said miserably, thinking of Lith and Shaduril. ‘It cannot be.’

‘Yes. Balan is dead. His wife is dead. Lithiana Blacktower died, and your Shaduril did as well. I am sorry, for she was a truly lovely girl, and I showered her with gifts. She was twenty when their keep was wrecked. All you have been told are lies. We attended their funeral though none else did, for they were not high and popular.'

I swooned, and Magor grasped me. I shook my head, denying his words. ‘Dead. All dead.’

He nodded. ‘We could not detect you when we learned your name at the mint because the dead mask the living. There was always one of them near you. Always, save for when you visited that burnt down hall.’

‘I have been with Sand plenty. He was alive. I know it,’ I said softly. ‘They were not always around.’

He smiled. ‘Borlein might have found you, but you didn’t have a name yet, Maskan. We had not named you. We would have, that night. And perhaps they had dead around you, even when you thought you were alone. It was Tal Talin who we thought was the main culprit behind Hel’s attempt to grab the world, but I killed him. I killed him, his followers and boiled their skulls as a warning, but occasionally, we still catch the dead. The red skulls are those of the draugr. The rest are traitors of humankind. But I was worried, as you were still lost. Either you were dead, or they had you. And if the latter was true, it meant someone was holding you for something.’

‘My mother—’

‘She sleeps here!’ he yelled and shook me hard. He pointed his finger at the rock. ‘You will be the Beast of the North. That is a name that resonates from Nifleheim. Your mother was my queen, our tribe were the rulers of Nifleheim’s northern ranges, once. Hers was our strongest ally. You will be a king, one day. A king. Do not call a draugr your mother.’

I sat down, dazed. I held my face with my hands. ‘Do you realize how hard it is to understand this?’

‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘I am sorry. Now, tell me this. The trouble they have given us has been small and mean for years. They kept you for twenty years. Now, they finally employed you. What else do you know of the plan?’

I nodded feverishly and grabbed my letters from under my belt. I thrust them to him. He opened them up and walked back and forth as he read them. He chortled. ‘Crec and Gal,’ he whispered. ‘Very well. And Balan kills his villagers?’ he mused and looked worried. ‘Have you seen how many men they have?’

‘I saw what was in the Crimson Apex,’ I said. ‘Balan owns properties that bar the way to the Old City. It belongs to him. Thousands?’

‘He is raising an army,’ he said softly. ‘His own people. Did you know Valkai and his hundreds disappeared from their graves and the scaffold?’

I shook my head. The shipments to the old fort. They were corpses. And then I saw them march out. I shuddered with fear.

‘He has raised his own people, and dead thieves and gods know what else to fight us,’ Morag growled. ‘He will pay. An army of draugr. In my city. And I was to die before they attacked.’

‘Listen,’ I told him feverishly. ‘They killed Gal Talin and Crec Helstrom. They hoped to supplant you with Crec and Gal to make sure they could get to the Tower. I was to kill the queen, and Shaduril was to kill you, and Gal’s mint was the gateway to attack the brothers in the Tower. But since they killed Gal and Crec, I was to take Gal’s face and lead them to the mint. But if they already knew the queen is dead? Then everything they planned was a lie.’

‘They know the queen is dead indeed,’ he said. ‘And yes, they enjoy theater. The more elaborate the lie, the happier they are. Crec and Gal are dead?’

‘I was to take their place. They got greedy. Balan killed them. But this makes no sense. They must have some other plan. If I were to kill you—’

‘They sent you here to kill me. That is their plan. Nothing more. That was always the plan,’ Morag said. ‘They must have known I don’t walk around looking like my wife inside my own home. Perhaps they hoped you would see me, recover from your shock and then try to spare your Shaduril, and I know you are in love with her,’ he said and waved the letter where it was stated she was to kill Morag. ‘Perhaps they hoped you would actually see an opportunity to poison me as you saw me eating. I bet they told you to improvise. Or perhaps they hoped you would use Larkgrin in despair. They made many mistakes, being quarrelsome and driven, but perhaps they hoped you would see me dead for your dead family, no matter your surprise at seeing me here. They hoped I would not know you. They were wrong. But now we have to act.’

‘They hold my friend,’ I said softly. ‘Perhaps they hoped I’d kill you for Sand.’

‘And for him, then,’ Morag pondered. ‘But you are right. All those men they have? Thousands?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Thousands,’ he agreed, pondering. Instead of being elated, he blanched. ‘We are in trouble. The Mad Watch is not to be trusted.’

‘Why?’

‘They can cast spells,’ Morag told me. ‘Did you know that? The draugr. Some can charm, others give you nightmares, and likely Bear was so charmed all through the past twenty years. They need time to do that properly. The human mind succumbs to them eventually, but Gal fought it and wanted something for himself, and that doomed him.’

‘He and Crec wanted the throne,’ I said. ¨Balan is after it, I think.’

He nodded. ‘Not surprised. They want to rule the city, and so they now hold the Watch in their hands. And yes, with Gal they have a way to the Tower. That is bad. Hellish place to retake, Jotun or not.’

‘Gal and Crec are dead, I said. ‘Mad Watch has no commander and I won’t help them by taking any faces for them. Tower is safe.’

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘They are dead, I believe you. The draugr are wicked undead who have human appetites for power and riches and mighty goals. Their lords and ladies rule them though they all wish to rebel. All can hide their undead skin. They are dangerous, boy. They can Stir the Cauldron. Humans cannot touch magic, but if you are an undead, you are no longer human. The night they died, they discovered their magic and their skills. They are all driven by the goals of their old life, the things they once wished for, and they all want to fulfill those objectives. Desperately. It is an undead thing. But they also have to obey their lords, especially the one who resurrected them. That spell is the most evil of Hel’s spells. One of them can raise the dead. And so, Maskan, I regret to tell you I saw them this morning. Both Gal and Crec are in the Temple, and they will likely obey Balan. We need the army. Hawk’s Talon. One of us will fly to the Spur to fetch them.’

Bjornag growled. ‘And then we will break them. Purge them.’

‘I need to get this ring off,’ I hissed. ‘I cannot fight like you do if—’

‘It goes off with your life,’ he whispered, touching it. ‘I told you. That is its curse. It’s old, timeworn and meant to cut off criminals from magic.’

I stared at him blankly. ‘But that means I am helpless.’

‘I need time,’ he said sternly, ‘to study it. I remember one Talien getting rid of it by nearly dying and coming back.’ He looked anxious as he looked at the Red Brother. ‘Get the word out. Ready the Brothers. Crec is to be beheaded at a sight. Gather Hawk’s Talon and all the Mad Watch that can be trusted, and then we march off to the Tower of the Temple. If they have taken it, we will retake it, bloodily.’ He turned to me. ‘Listen, boy. They should not go amiss, but if the things go really wrong, find the gauntlet. It is called the Black Grip, as I said. Call it and it will accept you. It’s dverg made, of course, as is all our armor and weapons, but this one is ancient. It is fit for the gods. It holds memories of the Ymirtoe’s past; it whispers to you, occasionally. It contains knowledge of spells its previous wearers cast. And perhaps it can find a way past this ring. And it holds a secret to a powerful spell of guardianship. I mentioned it. It once locked the cave beneath the Temple. It can unlock it. The price will be steep, but there might be help down there if you are brave. And if I die, remember I love you. Mother did as well.’

‘Father—’

He grinned and pushed me heavily. ‘But enough of that, boy. You and I? We have some murdering to do. You have our armor, good, well. It changes with you and protects you. So do the weapons.’

‘I can only change my face,’ I told him. ‘I am strong, but not immortal.’

‘Nobody is immortal. We will find a way,’ he assured me. ‘The whip is a great weapon and would hurt a goddess. Come Son.’

Father. He was my father. And there was also my mother. I had seen her image, at least. ‘Yes, Father.’

‘We must be away since they have finally found their balls,’ he said. ‘Why have you not already left?’ he asked the Red Brother.

‘Lord, I cannot leave you alone. Let us go up,’ he told his master stiffly.

‘Fine!’ my father said and touched a long-handled long sword resting against his throne. ‘A fine blade. I call it Tear Drinker. Magical. Soon it shall drink their blood and it shall drink their tears. Cold, lifeless blood, bitter, false tears. Let’s go and free the Danegell tower from their stench. They will pay. Dearly. Pay with blood and guts, and I’ll hang them. There must be limits to how many the draugr elder can raise, but I’m sure they have raised all they can. Their own men, villagers. We will exact heavy toll for such a crime.’

‘I won’t object making them pay,’ I said and grinned though I was anxious for Sand. ‘Will you have your scepter?’ I asked him.

He hesitated. ‘Yes. Give me the Larkgrin,’ he said. ‘It has powers of protection. We will need it. Did you have it?’

‘Yes,’ I said and fished it out of my gauntlet. ‘Larkgrin,’ I breathed.

It grew in my hand. The staff was glowing, the dark wood was sturdy, and Morag stared at it in stupefaction.

‘No, it is the same thing,’ he said, touching it with his finger. ‘What are these glyphs?’ He touched them.

‘Lord!’ Red screamed. ‘It has been tampered with! Like the ring!’

The weapon trembled in my hand. The king slapped it away from me and grabbed me. The Red Brother grew up to his full height. He pulled on his helmet, drew his sword, and stood before us like an armored bull.

‘Run, Son,’ Morag screamed fiercely, and I felt him draw strange energies. Upstairs, something happened. The house rumbled, dust fell, and we nearly fell. A horrible scream could be heard and then the clap of thousands of feet and then sounds of battle.