Iduna

by Maya Michaels

  “Iduna.” She took a deep drink of the unknown liquid and felt warmth follow its progression to her empty stomach. She should have anticipated there'd be strong drinks at a military camp and at least bolstered herself with some fat. She passed the jug back and smiled. “Thanks. You have much better wine than the camp I was at last night.”

  “Our family is known for a good drink.”

  “And mine is known for not burning food,” Iduna said.

  “Then you are welcome here, my friend,” Freya said.

  Chapter 9

  Three hours later the night was deeper, and more people had joined the fire. Iduna sat watching the flames and people, her arms hugging her knees to her, trying to blend. Everyone had eaten their fill, and they lounged on each other while they talked. The sound of sporadic laughs carried through the dark like fireflies dancing at twilight—there for a second and almost imagined. The campers had piled the wood high, and the fire glowed hot and spirited.

  “Tell a story,” one of the men called to Unger.

  He dissuaded, but the single call was joined by many, and soon Unger gave in. He stood tall and surveyed the crowd. Freya started to play the drums, and she smiled at him. He returned her grin, and his eyes twinkled.

  Iduna leaned forward.

  Unger’s tale was of a young elf hunter named Gurunda who’d had enough of a certain Ull cuffler, a large beast with a shaggy coat and flat face that only emphasized its enormous teeth. The cuffler had been eating Gurunda’s fish, and Gurunda was going to catch the cuffler and make him pay.

  A man and woman rolled off their perches. The man started to act like he was Gurunda, and the woman pulled her friend’s large white fur over her and pretended to be the cuffler. “Gurunda” took a hefty swig of ale and headed on his valiant quest. He walked around the fire while the woman covered in fur lumbered ahead. They circled while Unger continued telling the story.

  “Gurunda walked into the cold, snowy morning. He discovered cuffler tracks and picked up his pace.”

  The man playing Gurunda’s part mimed walking faster, pumping his arms and legs. Iduna chuckled along with the rest.

  “The snow fell more rapidly as time went on, and Gurunda kept up his furious pace.”

  The listeners laughed and waved their fingers like falling snow. The man and woman raced around the fire.

  “As he ran out of energy …” Unger narrated.

  “And ale!” cried the crowd.

  “… he began to notice landmarks that he had seen just minutes earlier.” The Ullman stood in place and looked at some faces in the fire circle in exaggerated recognition.

  “'I'm going in a circle!' Gurunda exclaimed. The cuffler then came up behind Gurunda just as he turned and leaped upon him."

  The woman jumped into the arms of the man and began poking him until they both fell in fits of laughter. Everyone laughed and then broke into song as Freya beat out a rhythm that they all seemed to know. Iduna was jarred from the first real laugh she could remember by not knowing the words to the song. She picked up on a background chorus that repeated and threw her voice into the fray long into the night.

  Chapter 10

  The morning was cold and crisp. Tendrils of smoke rose from campfires scattered over many miles. The smell of burned wood filled Iduna’s nostrils. She woke up slowly and burrowed into the warmth around her. In slow degrees, she remembered where she was. Her throat was sore from singing, yet her body relaxed and lethargic. Someone turned and put their arm around her with a hug. She was lying in a crisscrossed circle of people with furs below and over them. She felt a deep contentment that turned to discomfort as she became more alert.

  “Come, let's get the breakfast going,” Freya whispered next to Iduna's ear.

  Iduna nodded and extricated herself from the pile.

  “The rabbits you made last night were delicious. Chief Skuld enjoyed them and wants you to keep cooking for him. Do you have any tricks for gruel?”

  “Let's add some of this.” She pulled out the cinnamon she'd brought with her. Since it was frequently traded between Lawan and Gaelen, she trusted she could use it here without suspicion.

  Freya smelled the sticks of cinnamon, broke off a piece, and sucked it in her mouth. A huge sleepy smile spread over her face. “Chief Skuld will be happy.”

  Iduna had helped cook the day’s breakfast, lunch, and had started preparations for dinner. She was feeding the chief as well as the people of their fire. The work had kept her busy, but she needed to explore. She’d already found that the camp was organized around fires with an individual’s community defined by which fire he or she ate meals at. No one at her fire seemed to talk about the future or even the past. They seemed to live completely in the present.

  Iduna didn’t have that luxury.

  She knew what they’d done to Gaelen and that they must not be allowed to destroy Lawan. She would not let it happen. She must not let it happen. It was a tough balance, to fit in while spying. If she stayed with Freya and Unger too much, they might see through her. If she explored, then she exposed herself to more watchful gazes which could discover her secret. She could not be cautious. She needed to know more.

  “Freya, I’m going to forage.”

  “Do you need any help?” Freya asked as she looked up from peeling potatoes.

  “No, I’ll go alone.”

  Freya looked at Iduna. “You do remind me of my daughter. Unger, doesn’t she look a little like our Edda? She’s about the same age as when …”

  “Don’t bring her up, Freya. It will just upset you,” Unger said, tossing a peeled carrot into a pile. He turned and looked at Iduna with an uncomfortable directness. “Iduna, how old are you? Where are your parents?”

  “My parents are dead, and I’m old enough,” Iduna said and would have bit her tongue if it could take back the harsh-sounding words. She needed these people to feel she was old enough to be at their camp. She couldn’t risk being sent to a different campfire and miss getting closer to Chief Skuld.

  “That you are.” Unger turned his attention to sharpening the cooking knives. Freya was looking down at the potatoes with determination.

  Dismissed and free, Iduna walked to the top of the slight rise above her campfire. It felt odd to wander the camp of people who could soon be her enemy, but who also reminded her of her parents. She looked back to the fire that had become the center of her world. Unger had leaned forward to hold Freya’s hand. As he moved closer and pressed his forehead to his wife’s, as if to soothe her, Iduna turned away.

  Training squares had been set up, and they were a hub of activity. She joined the laughing crowd gathered to watch a sparring match. One of the female warriors was fighting two men and appeared to be winning. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and not the bloodthirsty barbarians she had expected to find. In fact they were warm and hospitable. One of the other women had braided Iduna’s hair, and Iduna had done the same for another. The men helped each other too. The ease and casual affection among them was disarming and incredibly comforting. Nothing had made her feel like this in years.

  A man striding quickly through the crowd caught her eye. He had dark golden skin and brown hair tinged with burgundy. She hadn’t seen an Ull with brown hair so far, and his coloring was even different from the dark-haired people of Lawan. She pushed back from the rail and followed him from a short distance. He was heading toward one of the campfires of the youngest fighters. He was moving fast, but in a straight predictable line. People seemed to melt away from him. Other people walked about and sometimes blocked her view of him, but she found him quickly due to his unwavering path.

  He was about to enter a small tent when a young female warrior grabbed his arm. She clutched him like a bird holding on to a branch in a blizzard, and her lips moved quickly. Iduna angled her way forward to hear what was being said.

  “My sister is fine. She’s much calmer now,” the girl said.

  “Is that right?” he asked her. He met her gaze straig
ht on, and the girl shrank back visibly, dropping her hand from his arm. “It’s starting to look like you’re not feeling well also. How are you?” he asked.

  “I am good.” She tucked her long straight hair behind her ears and lifted her face to look him squarely in the eyes. Her smile was hard and looked like it didn’t belong to her, like it had been crafted somewhere else and stuck on her face.

  “Then you should join the others,” he suggested.

  “Yes, of course.” She turned stiffly and walked right by Iduna. The girl’s eyes stared blankly while her mouth clenched to firm up her chin that shook ever-so-slightly.

  The man entered the tent, and Iduna watched the closed flap, her mind spinning with possibilities. With each passing moment the urge to run into the tent grew stronger. What was he up to in there? What had upset the girl? Just then, the man came out of the tent. He smiled at someone passing by and left. She counted to three. Iduna tried to walk normally to the small tent. With two quick glances in each direction, she ducked inside.

  She found a girl on a pile of furs who looked like the twin of the young woman Iduna had seen outside, with just one important difference.

  This girl was dead.

  Chapter 11

  Iduna was putting the last touches on the night's dinner when Freya joined her to load the tray that was for Chief Skuld. Freya bumped hips playfully, causing Iduna to add extra thyme. Her grip on the herb had been loose; her hands were shaking slightly as she considered the poor young woman in the tent. Iduna needed to pay attention.

  Freya laughed at her serious face and said, “The chief would like to meet his cook. You are to serve with me tonight.”

  This was the break Iduna had been waiting for.

  So far she'd heard no clue about what the Ull’s intentions were. Her only hope was to get closer to the top. Time was passing, and, if anything, seeing the true enormity of the horde had made her mission more important. She needed to remain calm.

  She took a moment, while stirring the lamb stew, to use it as a meditative exercise, letting go of all emotion. Exhaling, she let the emptiness fill her. This didn't seem to work as well as a few days ago. It would have to do for now.

  Freya and Iduna carried the trays of food and drinks into the large black tent after the guards waved them along. Inside the tent the air was warmed by a small fire and well ventilated with a smoke flap in the ceiling. The floor was covered in a combination of rugs and a few furs. A long solid table currently held a map and red candles but still had adequate room for their trays.

  It was dim in the tent, but Iduna could see a tall man and woman, both garbed in decorative leather armor, standing stiffly by the fire. From what she'd heard around the camp, she knew Chief Dagna and Chief Skuld were the two commanders reporting directly to Leder Vilir. They served him but were strong personalities with opinions and ambitions of their own.

  Freya and Iduna put down their trays and arranged the food, plates, and goblets on the table. Freya pulled out one of the chairs, and Iduna walked to the other side to pull out the other chair. The two commanders sat in unison. Turning to her leaders, Freya smoothed her rough tunic, clasped her hands in front of her, and lowered her gaze while she waited patiently. Iduna copied Freya, though she stole glances as often as possible while the two ate.

  “This is the cook?” Chief Skuld asked.

  “Yes, Chief Skuld,” Freya said.

  Skuld grunted with satisfaction. “Dagna, you are in for a treat. Our new cook here has made the food of these lands tolerable.” Skuld leaned forward as he spoke, his hands pressed squarely on the tabletop. His white hair was trimmed tight to his head, a style Iduna hadn’t seen before. It made him look disciplined and strong.

  “I would welcome a good meal,” his guest replied.

  Dagna's eyes were a striking clear blue. In the last few days Iduna had seen the variety that her blue eyes could come in. They were an extreme rarity in Lawan, and she'd had no idea that blue eyes could be soft, like a warm summer sky, or sharp as steel and everywhere in between.

  While they ate, Freya and Iduna attended their chiefs’ requests for more wine or water. Iduna listened closely, eager to catch any hint of their plans. Skuld and Dagna discussed the condition of their two halves of the army, commenting on supplies, latrines, and training. Iduna made a mental note of the size and structure of the military force implied by their comments and any potential weaknesses. Their observations and details showed that these two were no thugs. They managed their camps well. Skuld's next words drew Iduna from her mental accounting.

  “The power is finally starting to build again,” he said.

  “Yes, well, we've seen it ebb and flow before,” Dagna said.

  “Castle Gaelen spread us thin.”

  “If there's one thing you can count on, it’s that the strength will be there.”

  “Indeed.” Skuld turned back to his food.

  They kept eating in silence. Iduna's mind rushed as she realized what value hearing more of these conversations would bring. They were eating too quickly. She needed to hear more.

  When they had finished and indicated it was time to clear away the food, she made the leap and asked, “Would you like a mulled wine, Chief Skuld?”

  Freya's gaze flew to Iduna in warning. But her Ull parents had enjoyed a mulled wine at night and used to make her a mulled cider. She remembered the smell of the spices and the smiles of her parents as they shared the drink and time together at the end of the day. She was sure she had most of the spices with her.

  “I haven't had one in years. Bring two for us,” Skuld said as he sat even taller with pride at being able to offer such comforts to Dagna.

  “Yes, I believe I can spare some more time away from my side of camp.” Her head tilted upward slightly as if her status had been elevated by the offering.

  Iduna left the tent and practically ran to the campfire kitchen. She poured wine into a pot and added some cinnamon, apple, and orange zest while cooking high over the fire. It was taking too long, so she reached for the materials in the spices and used her power to defuse them into the wine. Pouring the steaming liquid back into the jug, she hurried back to the tent. She passed Freya who was carrying both trays from the tent. Freya didn't make eye contact, but Iduna had bigger concerns.

  Iduna kept her eyes down but her stride firm as she reentered the tent. Skuld and Dagna were talking animatedly beside the map. Iduna poured the wine into their goblets and brought the first goblet to Skuld and the second to Dagna, betting that, at this point in the evening, his desire to be the senior officer would be stronger than to be a great host. She stood near them, trying to make out where they were pointing to on the map.

  The spices created a delicious aroma that floated in the steam rising from their goblets. They both inhaled deeply before taking a drink.

  “Ah, it reminds you of home, doesn't it?” Skuld asked.

  “Yes. Do you remember the time we had mulled wine after hunting that mammoth with the limp?” Dagna’s eyes crinkled with mirth.

  Skuld laughed. “I’ll never forget that night. You rode that mammoth for a mile while we tried to catch up.”

  “I didn’t think the beast would run for it.”

  They drank deeply, and Iduna was glad that she had made a full jug's worth.

  “You may go.”

  Her hopes of hearing more crumbled.

  Chapter 12

  Iduna sat on a rock just slightly downstream of Freya while they washed the pots from yesterday. The stream was cold and brisk with the runoff from snow that had melted with the arrival of spring. The day felt warm though, and, after carrying all the dishes and pots to be washed, the water was refreshing.

  She was relieved to see that Freya wasn’t mad about last night, and their friendship continued. They would go to the stream to clean the pots and dishes, chat, and laugh. The days were growing longer, and Iduna admitted she was enjoying herself, though she frequently despaired over her lack of progress. From wh
at she could tell, Skuld and Dagna didn’t know any more about where the Ull were going next than the people at Iduna’s campfire.

  She needed to get to Vilir’s tent.

  The days settled into a pattern of cooking, serving, and waiting for jewels of information to drop. One thing was clear. The camp was getting ready to move. People were resting while working to improve their weapons and other gear. The scavenging trips waned as the best resources in the area had been tapped out. Lots of trading between comrades commenced as they sought the best weapon for their abilities. Some traded cold-weather gear for dried meats or weapons, guessing that they would be moving to a warmer climate. But others were willing to take the trade, thinking they would be heading home soon.

  She still had no idea where the Ull were going. They could advance either east or continue south. To the south, Lawan was a valuable prize with wealth accrued through years of benefiting from its deep and sheltered harbors. Trade had enriched many Lawanians.

  Iduna came to enjoy the hard work of cooking for so many and the challenge of preparing food that would keep the interest of Skuld. Dagna was busy but managed to come to Skuld's tent every other day for mulled wine or cider. Gathering the spices necessary for the concoction and for flavoring food was becoming a greater challenge. She'd had to scavenge herself.

  Her mind jumped back to the present when another group of people came to the stream with arms full of dishes. A tall, gaunt man with a bony, bald head instructed his two helpers where to set up.

  “Don't leave any spots this time, or it will be your head,” he commanded.

  They rolled their eyes behind his back and carried their loads to spots farther upstream and out of earshot of the place he'd settled in for a drink and nap.

  “Who is he?” Iduna asked Freya in a low whisper.

  “Leder Vilir's cook, Koli,” Freya said. “The man can't cook. His helpers do all the work, and he enjoys a life of leisure.”