Myadar continued, “All I can say is that I’m here now. I’ve brought the resistance back to Helésey. I intend to see it through this time, as far as I am able. They’ll have to kill me to get rid of me this time.”
I gave her a little nod, but Ivarr just kept glowering.
“I have to ask, Ginna—” she said, then hesitated to catch my reaction to her using my given name. I just looked back at her. I liked it better’n “Mær” Alvör, anyhow. “I have to ask, and you may think it’s selfish, but I cannot leave this be, for others depend on it. Will you help me find my baby?”
Oh, fuck me. And how could I say no to that, I ask you?
~~~
As it turned out, what Myadar meant by that was she wanted me to lead her to Finnarún’s apartments in the palace. She’d known once where they were, but the wing they’d been in was destroyed in the bombings, she said, so she’d no idea where they were now.
“And it wouldn’t be very wise of me to go sneaking about the palace looking for them,” she added.
At this point, Dihauti, who’d been leaning against a wall chewing his lower lip with his arms crossed over his chest tight-like, snorted loud enough to make me jump. “It would be the height of foolishness for you to go into the palace at all!” he exploded.
Myadar’s blue eyes flashed at him. “I can’t just leave Vinring with Finnarún, can I?” she snapped.
“She’ll not harm him, and—”
“You don’t know that!” Myadar cut him off. “None of us knows what her plan is.” Her hands worried each other in front of her. “She might be planning to use him as a shield if we attack. And even if she isn’t, when the attack comes, he’ll be in grave danger, and you know it. I can’t leave him there! I almost died when I thought Bersi had been killed. I can’t go through this again.”
“You don’t have to,” Dihauti said. Then he gestured at me. “You’ve a perfectly good agent to send in your place.”
“Hey, watch who you’re volunteering,” Ivarr said, straightening up from the wall where he’d been slumped since I’d agreed to help Myadar.
“He’s right, though,” I said. “I’ve an easy in. Finnarún’d never think twice about my coming by to see her. I don’t know how easy it’d be to get Vinring out, but I’d have a fair better chance than you would.” I looked at Myadar.
She shook her head. “It’s out of the question.”
“Why?” I asked.
“This is no time to be stubborn,” Dihauti added. “You’re needed here. You and Kolorma had the whole plan split between you and we can’t afford to lose either of you now.”
“Who said anything about losing me?” Myadar said. “I’ll be in and out before you notice I’m gone.”
“Oh, Frigga’s Wheel,” Dihauti sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Then he squared his shoulders and rounded on her. “Myadar, you cannot go into that palace to get Vinring. You must allow Ginna to do it.”
“It’s out of the question!”
“But why?” I asked.
“Because I can do it!” Myadar said.
“No, you can’t!” Dihauti exclaimed.
“I won’t leave my son in Finnarún’s hands!”
“You won’t have to! Ginna will get him!”
“I won’t have that!”
“Why not?” I demanded.
“You’ve no loyalty to me! You blame me for the deaths of all those people—why would you want to save my son?” Myadar demanded. She gave me a guilty look, then, for she must’ve known how awful a thing that’d been to say. But then she turned back to Dihauti and added, “Besides, she’s bound to get caught. She’s got no experience with sneaking about. I did it for months.”
“So has she,” Ivarr murmured.
We all stared at him.
“What…?” Myadar said.
“I said, ‘so has she.’”
Myadar blinked at him. Dihauti glanced from him to me.
“What does he mean?” Dihauti asked.
I frowned at Ivarr. “I’m not sure I know myself,” I said.
“I’ve seen you,” Ivarr said to me.
The eyes I felt on me in the night—I’d known someone was watching. I’d never have guessed it was Ivarr.
“She dresses up in your old mask and vest,” he told Myadar.
Myadar’s eyes widened and gaped at me. “You what?”
“I never knew you were out there,” I said to Ivarr soft-like.
He shrugged.
“You’ve been wearing Raud Gríma’s mask?” Dihauti asked.
“Well, the job needed filling, you might say,” I replied.
Ivarr cleared his throat. “Ginna can take care of herself. If she wants to help you, you should trust her.”
Myadar was still staring at me.
“It’s true,” I said to her. “I’ve been ‘sneaking about’ for some time now. And I’ve got an easy in to see Finnarún, sure enough. I can’t promise I’ll get Vinring out first thing, for I’d best be going about it careful-like. But I’ll get him out. You just give me a few days ’fore you sound the charge.”
Myadar reached a hand out and caught a wavy strand of my hair. “It’s brown,” she said, quiet-like. She and Dihauti exchanged a look.
“Yes, and?” I said.
“You can’t be Raud Gríma,” she said. “Not really.”
“Is that so?” I said.
“What does it matter?” Ivarr snapped. “She can get your son, and you can’t. Do you want her help or not?”
Myadar grimaced, dropping her hand to her side. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”
~~~
So that how come I went back to the palace, only first I told them everything about Finnarún and Leika, and Reister and Áleifer, and everyone else they asked about. Ivarr insisted on accompanying me on my way back, and I was glad of it, though I’d no way to sort out my feelings for him or the realization of how much he’d lost and had to be angry for.
We said nowt for a time. It was almost a whole day gone since I’d been taken from the corridor, and the light was failing. We stood in an alley just a couple over from where I kept the Raud Gríma things. I thought about telling Ivarr about them, so’s he could return them to Myadar, since she thought she was the only real one. Or maybe he could wear them himself, and why not? Let someone catch a glimpse of him when he was out assassinating Officers, and it’d be a fair sight better for’em to see Raud Gríma’n Ivarr Dúsi. Though it weren’t as though he had an address to track down or some such. Times’d changed.
I wanted to tell him I’d missed him. I wanted to tell him I understood he’d never want me that way, but that I loved him all the same, and I wanted him to stay safe. He was all I had left, this side of the sea, leastways, and I’d never bear it if he got himself killed. But all the words stuck in my throat.
“You’ll take care of yourself, then,” I managed as the sun set behind a tall building and the air dropped in temperature.
He gave me a little nod. He was staring at me hard as I was staring at him, and he seemed to want to say some things as well. That made me afraid. I’d no wish to hear how I’d disappointed him, or some such.
“Alright, then,” I said, and turned to leave the alley and make for the palace.
“Ginna, wait.”
I looked back at him.
His eyes were full of words but I’d no sense for what they were.
“You take care of yourself, too,” he said after a moment.
I grinned a bit. “I’ll do my best. It’ll be fair tricky, I reckon.”
Ivarr’s brows knit. “I know you want to help find Myadar’s baby, Ginna, but if it gets too dangerous—”
“What, then? I’ve nowhere else to go, have I?”
He looked down.
“It’s alright,” I said. “I’ll not tell you to leave off hunting Officers, and you let me do what I can to get that baby back to its mum. Maybe ’tween the two of us we’ll manage to do some good. Wouldn’t that be som
ething?”
His eyes come up to meet mine, and for a second his hand moved as well—I thought he’d reach for me, but then it fell to his side again, and he looked away. I sent him one last thought, for though I couldn’t say it, I could think it, and maybe that’d make some sort of difference.
I love you, Ivarr. Live.
I turned then and made myself walk straight for the palace without looking round. If I looked round I’d stop and come back, and then I’d never go to the palace and find Myadar’s son. His name was Vinring, and he was only four months old. No matter what his mum’d done, a baby needed his mother, and I’d do what I could to see that he was returned to her.
When I got back to the konungdis’s apartments, I found several things’d happened I should’ve seen coming but never had.
For one, Leika’d accepted Reister Sölbói’s proposal of marriage, and he’d moved in.
Can you imagine my surprise when I walked into the grand salon only to see him sitting there sipping tea like the family patriarch? Leika cocked her head to the side as the robot what let me in announced me. Her face went white and she stood and walked out, her hands reaching. I’d not known what to expect from her, and seeing Sölbói there’d thrown me off my balance, but I’d the presence of mind to take her hands after only a minute or two of standing there like a stupid cow.
“Dear Ginna, I was certain—oh, I thought you were killed—” Leika said.
I tore my eyes from Sölbói, who was gazing at me like a cat what’s got it all figured out how he’ll be killing a mouse ’fore nightfall. I come near to telling her about the Officers of Tyr, but I still didn’t know what Sölbói was doing there and I’d no idea how such news’d affect her, so I just said, “I’m honoured by your Majesty’s concern.”
“Ginna, I have the most thrilling news,” she said, squeezing my hands in hers. I met her blind eyes and nodded. “I am engaged! Oh, Ginna, I never thought, after Eiflar died—but Reister has asked for my hand, and he was widowed as well, as you know—” She kept babbling about how frightened she’d been and how safe she felt now that he was here, but I turned my eyes from hers to Sölbói’s.
Widowed, was he? I knew the truth of that. Something must’ve showed in my face, for his own expression changed. He cocked his head a bit, his eyes narrowing.
Sure enough, soon’s Leika retired for the night, I had Reister Sölbói trying to corner me on my way to my’n room.
“Tell me, Ginna, where were you all this time?”
He tried to use his body to get me in a corner in the antechamber ’tween the grand salon and the corridor to the servants’ wing, where my room was. I slipped round him and stood in the doorway to the corridor, but I’d no intention of carrying on through, for he’d really have me trapped if he followed me to my room. There weren’t no way out of the servants’ wing save this corridor and another what led to the kitchen, and in any case I’d rather not spend any time being chased round the apartments, thank you very much. Let Sölbói have his say, I reckoned. He’d not have much to add to Áleifer’s efforts what’d be any worse, anyhow.
“Seeing as how her Majesty don’t mind where I was, I don’t expect you need to know, neither,” I answered him.
He snorted.
“I believe it has fallen to me to protect her Majesty’s interests, now. After all, her Majesty is under the impression you’re a nice girl from—where was it? Asterlund?”
I made no reply.
“Oh, no, of course not. Myadar was from Asterlund. You knew that, didn’t you?”
He was fishing, and Gods help me, I was too tempted to pass up the chance to needle him back a bit. “Myadar?” I said, all insincere innocence. “D’you mean the woman you’re married to still? The one her Majesty thinks is dead, but who everyone else knows is still alive?”
His face lost some colour at that, and it did my heart good to see it.
“You know what I think, Jarl Sölbói?” I asked, peering at him sharp-like. “I think you and I both got something to lose should the konungdis learn the truth of some things she has the wrong end of at the moment. I think we’d both benefit from staying out of each other’s way.”
“You’ll leave here, Ginna,” he said in a low voice. It come out tight and all on account of he was grinding his teeth as he spoke. “If you know what’s good for you.”
“Let me put you right on this one thing, Jarl Sölbói. There’s no place better for me than here. Not at the moment anyhow. And if you knew the half of it, you’d know what a cutter that is. But it’s a fact, and there’s nowt I can do to change it.”
At that I walked down the corridor to my room, feeling him watching me go like he was aiming a gun at my back.
Must’ve been a lark, being married to that man. No wonder Myadar’d brought the city down on his head.
~~~
The next change what slapped me cross the face I encountered in Finnarún’s apartments the next day. Leika was so taken up with Reister and her wedding plans I’d left the apartments without a hitch. Made my way to Finnarún’s, thinking I’d make a case of the Officers’ deaths like I was bringing Finnarún some important inside information. I had to take care, I told myself as I hurried down the stairs, not to give owt away what might actually lead back to Ivarr.
The last person I expected to see when the robot led me into Finnarún’s grand salon was Sigrid, the dark blonde dancer from Gaddi’s club. She seemed to be expecting me, though, for she’d positioned herself to show off the fancy dress she wore, leaning an elbow casual-like on the back of one of Finnarún’s impossible armchairs—all angles, about as comfortable as death. She had on a fine enough frock, slit to the knee, silver lame with panels of some blue and green pattern. Her hair was curling round a crown-like silver band with jewels what caught the light from the chandeliers above. When she seen the look on my face, she smiled.
“Ginna Alvör. I never expected to see you again,” she said.
Course, I could tell that was a lie. She’d sought me out, if nothing else. She’d hated it when Finnarún bought me from Gaddi. She’d probably sworn she’d catch up to me, somehow or other. Some folk are like that—they take something what had nowt to do with them as a personal insult, and do their best to make you pay for it.
“What’d you do, throw yourself at her every chance you got ’til she finally noticed you?” I asked, thinking of the night with the stole and the mead.
Sigrid’s face flushed. That was it, then. Finnarún’d kept going to Gaddi’s. That weren’t no surprise. And every time she come in, Sigrid must’ve made it her mission to catch Finnarún’s eye.
“D’you even like girls, really?” I asked, making sure my voice told how likely I thought that was. “But it don’t matter, does it. Finnarún’s no more in love with you’n she was in love with me. You’re a right fool, Sigrid, if you think taking up with the likes of her is somehow going to help you.”
“What would you know about it?” she gasped, furious.
“Quite a bit, I reckon. What’s she using you for? Soon enough she’ll have you in some jarl or jarldis’s bed, you mark my words. She’ll tell you she needs your help, you’ll see. But she’s got a larger plan, and I’ll wager none of us comes out on the winning side of it but her.”
She made a sputtering noise, but for once her adder tongue weren’t lashing out the way she was accustomed to. It was as satisfying as shutting Reister Sölbói up, and no mistake.
“Where is she, anyhow?” I asked. “I’ve got news for her.”
Just then a baby begun wailing, and Sigrid’s red face drained to white. She bolted from the room without a by-your-leave.
Caring for Vinring, then. That’s what Finnarún had her doing, and she’d probably told her to keep him quiet. Good luck with that. I suppose babies what live outside of Mosstown in fancy houses or even the palace might not fuss as much as our’n did, but they’d have a cry from time to time, nonetheless. I remember Amma when our neighbor’s baby was keeping everyon
e in half a dozen shanties nearby awake all night. She said, “A babe’ll cry no matter what, sometimes.”
Still, fast enough Sigrid must’ve calmed Vinring, and it made me worry, I must say. Would she harm him, to keep him quiet? I had to find a way back into these apartments what’d allow me the run of the place. Either I’d have to slip in quiet-like somehow, or find a way to convince Finnarún to invite me back to stay. I’d no way to rescue Vinring with Sigrid acting as guard and nurse. I’d best hurry up about it, though, or might be that Myadar’d come charging in herself with an army behind her.
She might, at that. I knew almost nothing about her plans in that vein, but I had gleaned that the resistance was readying itself. And likewise, the city was building ships and such, and meanwhile, somewhere on the mainland, more of Leika’s military was no doubt just as busy. Soon the two sides’d wreck themselves against each other like rams making thunder with their horns, and it’d be a shame to stand in the middle and get crushed.
What was Finnarún’s game? Why take Vinring? What did she hope to achieve with a baby of four months?
Not just any baby.
Vinring was Eiflar’s son, of that much I was sure, though Myadar’d not confirmed it. She’d no need to—everyone knew Myadar Sölbói’d been in the konunger’s bed regular-like, and when I’d asked her she’d never denied it. And why else’d she left us all after the Great Rising? To go and have her baby in peace. It made sense to me now.
Finnarún must know Vinring was Eiflar’s, too. Did she hope to cast out Leika, holding up Eiflar’s bastard as his heir?
Stranger things’d happened. Brandr-Konunger’d come to power some four hundred years since after a minor civil war, on account of he was the previous konunger’s bastard and there’d only been girls born of the konungdis. And only going on a hundred years since, there’d been Eitri the Poisoner, who was bastard-issue of Afrida-Konungdis and the Jarl of Igúllund, I forget his name, but of course Eitri poisoned his mother and her husband, the konunger, and cut down a fair number of others ’fore he took the throne. Still, it set a precedent. And I suspected there were plenty of jarls what’d rather take Vinring as heir than let poor mad Leika rule on, especially now that she meant to put Reister Sölbói on the throne at her side.
After the Fall (Raud Grima Book 2) Page 28