by Julia Ember
“You knew they weren’t wolves,” I accused.
“I knew you could handle them, and you did. Aslaug tells me your men are on their way now. No deaths.”
“That’s not the point. You chose to withhold information from me.”
“You will not always know what you are up against,” the jarl argued. “I wanted to see how your men would react when faced with unknown beasts, when victory wasn’t assured. Given your condition, I’d say they must have fought for you.”
“But you knew.” I winced as the healer’s needle punctured my skin. “You, as my ally, knew what you were sending us against and you lied.”
“Yes, I knew and I didn’t tell you because it suited my test, just as you knew the shapeshifter did not travel alone back to her people and chose not to tell me.”
I stiffened. Loki had visited at night, and we had traveled by magic from the field to the guesthouse. I didn’t think the god would have let themself be seen.
“I do not know what happened,” the jarl continued. “But the story you told Aslaug, about Ersel returning to her people? She was sick, Ragna, so sick she could hardly move. The healer told us she would die. People so ill they can’t stand up don’t just evaporate into the night, shapeshifter or not.”
“She returned home.” My words were a yelp, as the healer tugged on the thread.
“Maybe, but how? If you don’t want me to keep secrets from you, you cannot keep secrets from me.”
“A thegn saw you go to the practice field alone the night the mermaid vanished,” Aslaug cut in. “He said it looked as if you were praying. And then he heard you arguing with someone.”
I brandished my arm at them. The maps showed the mountain where the fenrir had attacked, now with a fresh inscription of runes. “I’m gods-blessed remember? It makes sense that I would be pious. Maybe I was addressing Heimdallr.”
“Enough,” interrupted Trygve. We all turned to my boatswain, who was shaking his head. “We can’t go in circles anymore. Neither of you has been fully honest. That’s probably prudent. But if we are going to sail together, we need to start working together.”
Aslaug and Honor exchanged glances.
“Are you finished with all your little tests?” I asked the jarl. “Have we passed?”
“Yes,” said Honor stiffly.
“Then I will be honest with you.”
“Leave us,” I said to the healer. After the way she’d treated Ersel and the revulsion she clearly had for anything touched by Loki, I didn’t want her listening to what I must say.
The healer cut the thread and packed her tools away. My skin was stretched over the wound, bound with uneven white threads. I shifted, and the stitches pulled. It reminded me of Loki’s lips, bound painfully for centuries. The god hadn’t told Ersel that I’d betrayed her. I didn’t know what Loki’s help meant, but I felt a bond with them now, a debt, even if I’d sworn no oath—assuming they had kept their word and Ersel was safe in the ocean.
The jarl already suspected that I’d had divine help with Ersel, but I didn’t know what Loki would do once we reached my home. They had already helped me once, receiving nothing in return. The Trickster might decide to let us slay Haakon’s men, only to have their creature devour us. Maybe I was wrong about their need of me. The god had waited centuries after all, and might think nothing of waiting until another child was born. But if Honor believed that Loki was already on our side, I was sure she would put aside any misgivings about sailing with us. I could almost feel the ocean wind rustling through my hair again. I needed her ships. The truth wouldn’t get them. I would tell her what she wanted to hear.
“I summoned Loki,” I said, once the healer had gone. “Ersel is the way she is… a shapeshifter… because of a deal she made with them. The healer didn’t know what to do. I thought they would be the only being who could help.”
“You summoned Loki?” Jarl Honor echoed. “Just like that, and they came?”
“We have an understanding,” I said. Some of the color drained from her cheeks, so I hastened to say, “An understanding. Not a bargain. I don’t believe that Loki will stop us from taking back my town.”
“And where did they bring Ersel? What did they do to her?” Aslaug asked.
I don’t know, whispered an insidious little voice in my head. “They brought her to the sea. Djalsfor is too far away from the coast for her. She’s a mermaid. Her body needs the ocean.”
“And you promised them nothing?” Jarl Honor raised a skeptical eyebrow. “It does not sound like the god’s nature.”
“You’re familiar with Loki? You have personal experience with their nature?” My tone was mocking, but I needed her to stop asking questions. The longer our exchange went on, the more likely it was that she would trap me in a lie.
Loki’s nature was changeable; capriciousness was the very fabric of their being. In every legend, that was a constant. The god could be cruel or kind, helpful or destructive. No one, perhaps not even Loki themself, knew why they blessed some and cursed others.
The jarl flushed and looked at her lap. “No, I suppose not.”
“My family’s story and Loki’s are entwined,” I said. “You know that they’re after the fragments of the dagger that can free their true voice. My family is both the solution to their problem and the origin. They will care for Ersel until we set sail, and then she will join us. Our plan will proceed as before.”
The jarl’s brown eyes searched my face. “I accept this.”
“So, we work together?”
Jarl Honor nodded her head. She extended her hand, and I grasped it.
“We will take six ships,” Honor said. “You and I will sail with a personal guard on my knarr so that we can plan our approach. Nominate one of your men to captain a smaller ship in your stead. I assume it will be Trygve? It is my gift, to replace the ship you lost.”
I smiled. Even though she had not told me about the fenrir, if she had planned in this much detail, she must have expected me to return.
The outer doors to the guesthouse opened. My crew trudged inside. They flung their armor and weapons across the floor before they noticed the jarl. Torstein led them into my room.
“Well,” he asked, a crooked smirk on his face. “Will you live?”
I studied him. He had proven himself and was not the man I’d imagined him to be when we first set sail together. Trygve had been with me the longest, and he was my shield-brother, but he couldn’t command a ship the way Torstein could.
“Yes. I will recover. The damage to my leg isn’t as bad as I first thought,” I said. “The jarl has given us a ship. You will captain it.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Me? But you just said you’d recover.”
“Yes. I will be sailing with the jarl to plan the landing of our entire fleet. Someone will need to watch over this lot.” I gestured at the other men clustered behind him in the doorway. “I hold you accountable for their conduct and for the safe arrival of our new ship onto Brytten shores. Do you accept this post, styrimaðr?”
Torstein took a hesitant step forward. He chewed his lip; his whole expression seemed wary, as if he half-expected me to lure him into a trap. After the way I’d acted toward him, I couldn’t blame him for his suspicion.
“If that is what you desire,” he said carefully. “I would be honored.”
“Excellent,” said Jarl Honor. “Aslaug will prepare for our departure.” She smiled at her húskarl. “They’ve been running errands and guarding me for too long. I know Aslaug is ready for a fight worthy of them.”
Redness crept from Aslaug’s neck to stain their pale cheeks. “It is an honor to serve you. I haven’t complained.”
“Of course not.” Honor hoisted herself up from my bed and turned to face my men. “Aslaug is a warrior without equal in my jarldom. They are perhaps wasted staying at my side, but I wouldn’t
have them anywhere else. You have all proved yourselves today, in ridding us of the fenrir and saving your lord. You will make worthy allies.”
Honor walked to the doorway. My men parted for her, then knelt respectfully as she passed. I expected Aslaug to go with the jarl, but the húskarl remained in my room. They went to the window and stared out at the city below the hill.
“Leave and close the door,” I said to Torstein. “I need to rest.”
My men filed out. When the door shut again, Aslaug sat in the chair the jarl had vacated. They pointed to the stitches on my calf. “Falkra is rude, but she does good work. The jarl doesn’t keep her for her conversation. You should heal quickly.”
“I expect to.” I raised my hook. “And I’m not a stranger to fighting through pain.”
“I suppose not.” A grin twitched at the corner of their mouth. Then they rested their elbows on their knees, so our eyes were level. “I want you to know that I consider you and your crew my friends. I did not agree with Jarl Honor’s decision to lie to you about the fenrir, but she is my jarl and whatever her decisions are, I must obey them.”
“We’ll work together,” I said stiffly. “But don’t expect me to like her.”
Aslaug sighed. “I was born in Djalsfor. I’ve lived here all my life. But my grandfather was a traitor who ran from battle when he was called by Jarl Ulfric. My whole family might as well have worn a brand on our foreheads, the way his treachery marked us here. No one would trade with my father. No one would take my brother and I as apprentices. Even after my grandfather died, we still owed fines to the jarl for his crime. We could never raise the money to leave.”
They poured a glass of water from the pitcher on my nightstand and handed it to me. “When Jarl Honor took the throne, she gave us a chance. No tests, no conditions. I made the most of it. Where other jarls would have kept me away from their person, and refused to let me advance, Honor has helped me rise. I’m the grandchild of a traitor, but no one scorns me now. Honor has made me rich and respected. If I ever took a spouse, I know that my family would not bear the stain of my grandfather’s shame.”
“And your brother?” I asked. “Does he serve the jarl also?”
“My brother took bribes from Jarl Haakon and sold secrets to him. Honor knew of the dagger, and the unique ability of those marked as navigators to recover it, long before Haakon did. She is a well-educated woman, interested in the histories and ancient texts. My brother is the reason Haakon learned of you. He rots in the dungeon under the walls, never to see daylight again. I don’t petition for him. He was a liar and a coward. Because of him and so many others like him who would take advantage of her kind nature, the jarl has learned to be cautious. She tests now before she trusts.”
When I said nothing, Aslaug continued. “When I first heard of your arrival, through Inala, I felt duty-bound to help you because of my brother.”
“What he did wasn’t your fault.”
“No,” the húskarl mused. “But we are all bound by the debts of our family, are we not?”
Their eyes scanned me acutely and I looked away. After what Loki had told me about Sigrid, I did feel a sense of duty toward the god. They had helped my ancestor and had suffered for it. The Jarl had said a thegn overheard snippets of my conversation with Loki and had reported to Aslaug. How much had the húskarl relayed to Honor? How much had they kept to themself?
Aslaug rose and clapped my shoulder. I winced.
“The jarl shows great trust by granting you an alliance, navigator. I know there are things you keep private. Because of my brother’s role in what happened to your family, I do not bring these suspicions to the jarl’s attention. But betray her trust, and I’ll kill you myself.”
The conviction in their threat startled me. I wondered if there was more at stake for Aslaug than simply their duty to their jarl. I realized how often I had seen them together, how personal Aslaug’s interest in the jarl’s wellbeing seemed to be, how their eyes never strayed from her when she was present. They were Honor’s húskarl, but surely they could have delegated much of the work. There was no need for a steward of a great city to also function as a bodyguard, to carry things for her, or to personally assist her guests. Their brother rotted in prison, but I suspected another kind of love had taken the place of familial affection.
“You love her.”
“What?” Aslaug barked a high-pitched laugh. “Well, yes, of course I do. She is my jarl. My life is hers.”
“No. I mean you really love her. You want her to be your spouse.”
“She can’t be my wife, she’s a jarl. If she marries at all, it will be a noble or another jarl, who will rule here while she raises children. She’ll need political advantage.”
Aslaug looked down at their lap; their long lashes blinked rapidly. I might have destroyed my own chance at romance, but I never would have let protocol or politics stand in my way. I’d kissed a mermaid after all, upsetting the conventions of both our worlds. Aslaug would never use or betray Honor. They proved that every day. The jarl should feel lucky to have someone so devoted to her.
I swallowed hard. Ersel had proved her devotion time and time again, and now I might have lost her. She deserved someone who valued her. Whatever I might feel about Honor, she valued Aslaug.
Taking another sip of my water, I said, “She’s a ruler. A queen in her own right. She can have whomever she wants. She struggled and took her position. I’ve only known Jarl Honor for a brief time, but I can see that she has no plan to become a meek wife supporting a warlord husband.”
“No, I can’t see that either.” Aslaug laughed, and their blush deepened. “That’s part of what I like about her. And she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve been her thegn for nearly a decade.”
“Have you told her?”
“Of course not. I would never burden her with my feelings.”
“I thought you said your brother was the coward.”
Aslaug stiffened and gripped the arms of the chair. “I am not a coward. I respect her. I don’t want to impose myself or make things difficult for her.”
“If she doesn’t feel the same way, you never have to mention it again. But doesn’t not knowing hurt more?”
When I was ten, I had professed my undying love to a girl in our town. My hands full of flowers from the meadow, I’d knelt in front of Silea and declared myself her thegn. The memory made me cringe, even now. Silea had been gentle but firm with my heart. She had her eye on the butcher’s son. When my pride had recovered, we’d managed to stay friends. I’d found Astra soon after. Aslaug would respect Honor’s feelings, but that respect shouldn’t stop them from voicing their own—not when there was a chance.
The húskarl rose from the chair. They swept me an elegant, well-practiced bow. “I will take your words into consideration. Rest, navigator. You’ll need your strength.”
Three
Mörsugur
The Bone Month
December
Eight days later, we set sail across the Northern Sea. The jarl kept her word. She outfitted ten ships with fully trained warriors and handed an eleventh ship over to me. I’d been given a new sail, designed just for me: a black war-axe on a canvas of blue inked maps. It made me proud to watch my sigil billow in the sharp ocean wind.
The Sea Witch was a small, but beautifully made vessel. She was a snekke: a warship with no cargo hold and a draft so shallow she could be pulled directly onto the beach. Her decks were made of the same jewel-red wood as Honor’s longhouse. The stempost had been intricately carved to show a mermaid pressing a hunting horn to her lips. Her form was too slender and, despite the long, elegant tail winding down to the hull, she had no scales. She shouldn’t have reminded me so acutely of Ersel, when she looked nothing like the real mermaid I knew. But when I saw the horn at her lips, I blinked back tears and hurriedly bid Torstein a safe passage.
/> On the ride from Djalsfor to the coast, I had stupidly hoped that Ersel, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright with health, might be waiting for us at the harbor. Either she was bound to the Trickster or Loki had told her of my betrayal and she wanted nothing more to do with me. I wasn’t sure which fate was worse. I hated the idea of her being forced to carry out Loki’s wishes, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her choosing to abandon me either.
I joined Honor at the helm of her flagship. The huge knarr had a special throne built on the deck for the jarl to sit and watch the oncoming waves. I sat on the bench at her feet, but faced the oarsmen. Their hand resting on their sword hilt, Aslaug stood guard behind her. They dipped their head to me, but nothing about their posture betrayed the words that had passed between us. If Aslaug had confided their feelings to the jarl, neither of them gave any indication.
Shipbuilders on shore cut away the ropes binding the titan to the dock. The ship surged forward, driven by a powerful gust of wind.
I was going home, at the head of an army, having forged my own agreements with lords and gods alike. I should have been elated. I would avenge my family. I was going to see Yarra again. Instead, a heaviness settled inside me as the ship left the continent far behind. When we landed on Kjorseyrr’s coast, my family would not be waiting in our house. Uncle Bjorn wouldn’t tell me how proud he was. Mama wouldn’t get the chance to scold him for putting dreams of the sea in my head as a child. Lief wouldn’t run into my arms.
Ersel would not be waiting on the beach.
I left the bench and limped down the steps to the cargo hold. The jarl could manage the men on her ship without my interference. We were allies with a political bond, not friendship. The pony was my only true friend on board. Vaskr was stabled below deck in a narrow hold with two other horses: the jarl’s gray stallion and Aslaug’s mare. The stallion was squealing and trying to attract the mare’s attention. Vaskr stood between them, seeming oblivious as he munched hay from a trough.