Iduna

  “How does such a man get to keep his job?”

  “The word is that he poisoned or framed everyone above him until he rose to the position,” Freya said and wiggled her toes in the cool water.

  “I would never let a person skilled with poison cook for me,” Iduna said, glad that Freya didn’t know the full range of Iduna’s skills with herbs. Even now, she was automatically noting the useful tuft of weeds by a small outcropping of rocks nearby.

  “Oh, Vilir doesn't trust him. He feeds portions of his food to his dog before he ever eats. Koli is a bad one. My husband was one of his casualties. Koli put extra salt in all the meals that Unger served to Vilir. Vilir backhanded him and told him he'd not be served by a fool.”

  Iduna decided that this Koli fellow was a fair target. She stretched over and yanked free some of the weeds and stuffed them in her pocket.

  “Maybe it's time for some revenge.” She baited the hook, hoping Freya was game.

  Freya looked up from the pot she was washing with curiosity and a dawning awareness. “I'd love to.”

  “Keep him busy.”

  Freya laughed and opened some buttons on her shirt. Koli's helpers had turned to catching some fish with their hands, a splashy and boisterous effort that should keep them engaged. Freya strolled over to Koli with a stride designed to entice. Koli watched her with a leer, but with his lazy nature, he wouldn't stay interested long.

  Iduna had to hurry. She left and came back farther upstream and behind them. While she walked, she took the weeds out of her pockets with her left hand and began tearing them. Koli’s helpers had left pots drying in the sun. Iduna rubbed the leaves inside the pots, leaving bits of pollen and residue. It would be enough to cause whoever ate the food cooked in those pots an unhappy stomach. As Iduna moved away, Freya gave Koli a withering look and left him alone. The man’s eyes narrowed sharply, then a splash from the river drew his ire, and the moment was gone.

  Iduna thought it went well.

  Chapter 13

  Waiting for Koli to fall sick made the questions in Iduna’s mind grow. What was going on here and what threat did this pose to Lawan? She was so close and yet so far away from getting into Vilir’s tent. The image of the dead young woman in the small tent popped into Iduna’s mind. She had to take action.

  She snatched up a large jug of wine on her way to served Skuld’s dinner. Freya arched a brow but said nothing of it. Iduna knew tonight’s dinner would be light, little more than a broth stew that included very little fat or potatoes. Whenever Skuld's goblet was low, she stepped forward to refill it. Dagna was in her own tent tonight, and Skuld ate alone.

  As he drank, the silence stretched around them. When Freya took away his dinner, Iduna returned with more mulled wine and cheese that she had scored earlier and had been saving.

  “Cheese! Thank Yorin,” Skuld exclaimed. “Another treat from home.”

  “Yorin be blessed,” she agreed, the word for their god feeling awkward on her lips. Usually she would have just nodded her head, keeping the silence that Freya seemed to maintain while serving, but Iduna wanted to get him talking.

  She needed him to talk.

  Skuld looked sour and took a large gulp, his earlier drafts of wine only increasing his thirst.

  “There's no blessing here,” he said darkly into his drink. Silence. His reddening eyes turned to Iduna. “The darkness is growing again.”

  “It's evening, sir,” Iduna replied, puzzled.

  “I speak of the darkness in us,” he muttered. “He controls it. Using us all.”

  Iduna thought of when she had first arrived, the warmth and easy affection, the laughter and silliness. She had expected a brutal culture, but she had found nothing of the like. Perplexed, she left the tent with Freya.

  Chapter 14

  Iduna woke the next morning to her stomach gurgling with hunger. She’d been trading away much of her food to get spices and treats like the cheese. Thinking of warm oats with honey, she picked her way through the usual jumble of bodies seeking warmth in the pile of furs. She’d raise the fire, then go to the stream for water.

  She felt a hand grab her ankle and tug, yanking her out of the pleasant moment in her head. She fell, startled, dropping the bucket she carried. Sprawled, she looked back and caught the glint of a dark look before one of the sleepers rolled over to go back to sleep.

  She stood and bent to brush the grass off her knees. Grabbing the bucket, she continued to the stream. She didn’t know why someone would trip her or why she’d been so slow to react. Her training had included agility since it helped to be in sync with the elements. She just hadn’t expected it. Working on her calm, she focused on the water running swiftly and the patterns it made as it flowed around the rocks. When she was about to leave, she impulsively grabbed some of the flowers that Freya had admired. She tucked the stems into her pocket and carried the heavy bucket back to the fire. Iduna smiled as she saw Unger awake and roll his shoulders as if to work out a kink.

  “I see you don't need me,” Unger said, eyeing the bucket of water that he usually fetched.

  “I wanted to get an early start,” she said.

  “Well, if you think I slow you down, then you can make breakfast without me,” and Unger walked away toward a horse corral.

  She stopped walking for a second, puzzled. The weight of the bucket reminded her she had work to do, and she resumed her course.

  “Morning, Iduna,” Freya said as she continued stacking wood at the campfire.

  “Good morning.” Iduna pulled out the flowers after dropping the bucket with a thump. “For you.”

  “They’re dead,” Freya said. Her eyebrows lowered, and the line of her mouth flattened.

  “They've just been picked. They've not lost their beauty,” Iduna assured her.

  Freya shook her head as if clearing thoughts from her mind. “Oh, you're right. How silly.” She took the flowers from Iduna, put some of the water from the bucket into a goblet, and dropped them in. She set the makeshift vase on their worktable.

  Iduna watched her and considered.

  “Freya, could you tell me about your daughter?” Iduna asked. Freya winced, and Iduna added more encouragement. “What happened to her?”

  Freya looked around to see if Unger was nearby, then whispered quietly, “She caught the disease.”

  “What disease?”

  Freya’s gaze moved over Iduna’s face and searched her eyes—for what, Iduna didn’t know. “We call it the Vanvidd. It has been afflicting our young fighters for the last year. We can’t find a cure.”

  Freya had used the word “we.” Iduna realized she had just given away that she was an outsider. Someone from the camp, of the Ull, would have known about Vanvidd. Freya knew Iduna wasn’t from here but had decided she didn’t care.

  “How many have died?” Iduna asked.

  “Too many. They fall one by one. It’s become less frequent, but we can’t seem to stop it or find a cure. Our daughter Edda was a warm, vibrant young woman. About six months ago she started having angry outbursts and saying wild things. She was dead within days.” Freya’s eyes were like black pits of pain and loss.

  Iduna couldn’t fathom what Freya was feeling. It was the oddest sensation. She could see Freya’s pain expressed in every physical gesture, but it felt foreign. Iduna wondered if her focus on calm was keeping her from connecting to what Freya was feeling. Iduna felt confused and at a loss.

  “You have my sincere condolences,” Iduna said lamely.

  Freya put her hand in Iduna’s, and they stood in silence.

  …

  “You will be cooking for our Leder Vilir tomorrow,” Skuld said. “Be sure you serve him well.”

  “Thank you.” Iduna stepped back in line with Freya. Inside she shook with excitement that she might finally learn something useful for Lawan. Freya and Iduna took the dishes outside and stacked them up for the next day's cleaning.

  “You had better watch your back,” Freya whispered to Idu
na as they worked. “Others will be jealous.”

  “Has our darling cook done something endearing again?” Unger asked.

  “She's doing her job, which is more than can be said for you,” Freya said.

  Iduna nodded absently as she thought about cooking for Vilir. She would be getting close enough to learn more, but what else would that proximity bring? An image of the pretty teen lying dead in her tent came to mind. Maybe Iduna could learn more about the disease as well as Vilir’s intentions.

  Chapter 15

  The next morning Iduna left breakfast preparations to Unger and Freya, riding off to find something to impress Vilir. To be honest, maybe she needed a break from camp. People were tense and irritable. Perhaps, like her, they also wanted to know where they were going next.

  Freya had told her some of Vilir's preferences, and, if Iduna got far enough away from the exhausted surroundings near camp, she might find something suitable. She rode south and up a valley to find a lake with larger fish than the thinned-out variety remaining in the camp’s nearby streams. The ride was quiet and refreshing; the brisk air worked its own magic. When she reached an open meadow, she kicked her horse into a gallop and smiled broadly with growing exhilaration. She crouched in the stirrups and leaned low, yelling encouragement to the horse. The wind whipped by her, and the wildflowers passed in a multihued blur.

  As she neared a stand of trees, she slowed to a trot. She patted her horse on the side and transitioned to a walk, turning to follow the stream upward to its source. In a few hours she reached a broad lake sheltered by steep mountains. The water was deep with shades of blue echoing the sky.

  She set her horse free to munch on the fresh spring grass and took her saddlebags with her to the shore. She pulled out a ball of string and hook that she'd brought from Lawan. Digging into the leather pouch, she raised a single long worm into the air. It wiggled and squirmed. “Time to go to work,” she said aloud. Skewering him on the hook, she tossed him out gently into the shallows. A quick snap announced her first catch, a small fish. She caught ten small fish that way. A fish took the worm's place on the hook, and Iduna hiked around the lake to some boulders. She climbed up and dangled the line with fish attached above the deeper water. She lost two fish before finally catching a large one. Tucking the large fish away in her pack, she went back to leaning over the boulder and casting in the deep water below. She caught fish after fish. She had plenty but was enjoying herself too much to leave yet.

  The day was quiet and the wind brisk, raising ripples on the lake and a constant rustle among the surrounding tree branches that were bare except for their early spring buds, promising leaves and flowers.

  The sudden, deep roar behind her echoed through her body, every nerve instantly taut with terror. She closed her eyes as the roar faded and the echoes bounced off the mountains surrounding the lake. She wrapped the fishing line around her fist slowly while gathering the courage to open her eyes. Looking behind her, she saw an enormous brown cuffler on all fours with its eyes glaring into hers, his head swinging side to side. She took in the mangy hair, loose hide, and hungry eyes of a cuffler after a season's hibernation. He stood as tall as her horse when he was on all fours - he would be as large as a troll when standing and have the girth to match. At least he would have the girth after a few weeks of feeding. Since the Ull had taken much of the game in the area, it would be a rough year for him.

  The cuffler’s sharp claws scraped on the rocks. His long brown pointy ears twitched. She tightened the strings closing her bag while pulling the strap over her head. Just as his shoulders signaled the beginning of his charge, she sprang from the outcropped boulder and dove into the water far below.

  Plunging deep, she spread her arms and legs into an underwater breast stroke, trying to cover as much distance as possible underwater. Finally coming to the surface, she was pleased to see that she was at least one hundred yards from her fishing perch.

  The cuffler stood on the beach waiting for her, panting with hunger.

  The water was cold and full of the unknown. She tread water and tried to think of a solution before anything in the water started thinking of her. Any Elemental spell that could whisk the water and her to shore beyond the cuffler’s reach would require at least two casters. Summoning her calm, she moved the water in front of her down hard at an angle. The movement created a tall, fast-moving wave. As it neared the shore and the waiting cuffler, she pushed wind and caused the water to break hard over his head.

  As the water and spray cleared, she saw the cuffler had dug in, bracing his legs and lowering his head. He looked up at her with hungry eyes. The cuffler was not going to move until fed.

  After ten minutes of floating like a toy in a tub, she decided to try a different approach, something more like what her parents would have done. The cuffler was blind with hunger, just a beast with a hollow, echoing stomach. She still had the fish in her bag. She waded into the shallows, and the cuffler grew larger in her eyes. Gaining her feet now that water only reached to her midriff, she grabbed a slimy, wet fish from her bag and tossed it far to the right of the cuffler.

  He didn't move.

  Grabbing another fish, this one she hurled directly at him, smacking him in the snout. Startled, the cuffler let the fish bounce off him. He eyed her briefly then decided to examine the fish. He scarfed it up. When he turned to get the other one, she threw another farther off. He followed.

  Seeing her opportunity, she started running through the shallows, legs lifting high and hurtling forward. As she gained land, she sprinted up the pebbled beach, dropped the last two fish for him and ran into the trees.

  …

  A half mile later, she knew she wasn't going to be cuffler lunch but despaired that she had nothing to cook for Vilir. He’d dismiss her or worse. She still had the fish line wrapped around her fist, but the lake was definitely the cuffler's lake. Sopping wet and cold, she wondered where her horse was.

  “Oh, Yorin, I can't get back in time to make even a simple dinner without a horse." She whistled. Nothing. She whistled again. What would happen if she didn't make it back? Is there any way that she could get the information she needs otherwise? If she went back to look for the horse, would she run into the cuffler?

  While she was pacing in a circle, thinking about what she could do, torn between going forward or back, she spied a patch of rhubarb. She yanked it out of the ground, muttering, and stuffed it into her wet bag. She stomped her way back to the lake—and the cuffler. Surely there must be something else that would endear her to Vilir. Fish would be impossible to get because of the stupid cuffler. She found a fresh patch of strawberries and tried to be a bit less brutish when picking them. The leaves of the rhubarb should cushion them in her bag.

  Thankfully she had had her eyes open for plants. She spotted a fast-acting sleep plant. She shot a squirrel with her slingshot and stuffed him with the herb. Now she had a good snack for the cuffler and could risk going back to find her horse. Getting closer to the lake, she whistled again. Her horse came trotting. What a relief.

  “It's so good to see you,” she said while she rubbed his nose.

  The sound of a large object crashing through the undergrowth toward them made Iduna grab the saddle horn and leap on board. Dropping the squirrel behind her for good measure, she clicked her heels to the horse's side and took off.

  Chapter 16

  Iduna entered Vilir’s tent with a large tray holding a heavily seasoned lamb dish. Her gaze darted quickly from her tray to the surroundings, trying to get a sense of the room and its inhabitants without looking disobedient.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  The brown-haired man who had murdered the young female warrior was here. He was focused inward and pacing, which gave her time to catch herself. Just then, he looked at her, but Iduna had brought her head down in the subservient pose Freya used. Iduna emptied her mind and told herself to just absorb, like a leaf blowing in the wind. She was calm and ready. She would lear
n something tonight that she could take home.

  “Senbo, stop pacing and sit. We will enjoy this meal,” Vilir said.

  “You must believe me,” Senbo said, while slipping into a chair at the table.

  “I don't,” Vilir said and sank his teeth into the leg of lamb.

  Senbo popped up out of his chair and ran his fingers through his thick hair. He had amber eyes that moved swiftly in tempo with his racing mind.

  “You need to raise the energy now,” Senbo said.

  “Why?” Vilir asked automatically. He casually threw a bone from his dinner at Senbo’s feet, making Senbo jump. Vilir’s large dog ran over and began wrestling with the new toy. Senbo eyed the dog and backed away a few steps.

  “You have to invade Lawan,” Senbo said.

  “Why?” Vilir asked again.

  The second “why” should have been a warning to Senbo, but he looked too anxious to heed it.

  “Lawan will be a great prize. Their society is rich and”—Senbo's eyes lost their focus as he stared into the fire, opening and closing his hands unconsciously—“we need to beat their Spellcrafters and Elementalists.”

  Vilir kept eating, though his sharp glance asked the question for him.

  “When you defeat them, you will gain their power. It will be a rush like no other!”

  Iduna held her emotions in check at finally learning what was going on. She felt incredibly lucky to learn of this beforehand, so Lawan would be prepared. And she just hoped her luck would hold as well as her ability to not react to the proposed decimation of her country.

  “You need to do what I say.” Senbo swirled to face Vilir, trying to keep his attention. The air between them crackled. A log in the fire snapped, breaking the long and scary silence.

  Maybe this was her moment. Maybe she should kill them both right now. There were sharp knives on the table from dinner. One lay within reach — it had a sturdy wooden handle and a keen edge. But if she acted without thinking it all the way through, she would be off the Path. Her years of training at the Institute in Cha kicked in, and she reminded herself to be prudent.