City of Vikings

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City of Vikings Page 3

by Farah Cook


  “Try not to look at it as a sacrifice,” says Solvej. Her hand drops from my shoulder like I’ve said something to disappoint her. “We all have to do things we don’t want to. What seemed like years passed like seconds, and here you are, embracing your destiny. It is in your blood.”

  “Solvej, who were the men that came to the house, and where did they take Karen?”

  “Ever since Karen met you in Ocean Eye that day on your visit to the West she’s raised suspicion among the Republic. She’ll be safe, and return in time for the masquerade ball. Don’t worry some allies from the senate are still supporting the Hunt family. And the ball is hosted every year to celebrate the Republic’s glorious rule in the Triangle.”

  “Their glorious days are counted,” I say “What else do I need to know?”

  “You will learn more about your legacy as time passes, and the measures your mother saw necessary to take. It may not make sense to you now. But in this world, where things are far from perfect, we all sometimes have to make imperfect decisions.”

  “I don’t want to make imperfect decisions,” I hedge. “I want to do what’s right.”

  “And you will. As a follower of the Judith Law you see the world differently. It’s your gift and a unique ability. For now, all you can do is attend your duties as Elite Raider of the Jarl Dynasty and to avoid any unnecessary attention from the Republic. The Empress knows you’re here. You must be patient.”

  I hand back the sword to Solvej knowing it will be kept safe there till I return. Solvej steps back into the house and before she closes the door she whispers, “May the Norse gods turn in your favor.” The door shuts, and a rare feeling overwhelms me. It’s taken me a while to realize, but now I finally know where I belong.

  My hands grip the motorcycle’s handlebars. I reduce my speed as I follow the long black road that takes me in the direction of Tower of Swords. From a distance, I see three tall silver towers reaching for the sky. Shaped like double-edged swords, the towers dart into the dark night poking the moon’s gray face.

  The three towers symbolize dynasties Rognvald, Orkeney and Jarl.

  Circling around the entrance port are hundreds of black crows. Some train their black eyes on me – murder and contempt lie buried in their cries, but I am not afraid. The crow – intelligent and observant is on Rognvald’s crest. Frederick will have had his dynasty tattoo by now – a blurry vision of him sporting his crest on this chest flickers in my mind and my memory of Frederick is slowly changing from one that was once vivid to something distant and unattainable.

  I lower my eyes and make my way into the tower, moving briskly and breathing heavily. The feeling I get upon entering this new space is daunting. It is the feeling of a new beginning and something that was meant to be.

  My thoughts circle to Magnus, Tene, Maja and Tove – the band of Jarl Raiders I’m about to join. They make me feel indispensable, and it is with pride that I form an alliance with them. The sense of belonging I never had prickles my skin leaving a warm feeling inside of me.

  Security guards dressed in brown colored suits let me pass as my chip scans against the entrance wall.

  “Leave all your belongings behind,” says one in a stiff voice. “All elites are provided with raider attire inside the tower. Your clothes will be different from now on.” He takes the few belongings I’ve brought with me. Curiosity drives me and I long to know what shape my life is about to take.

  Inside I see the reflection of my body in the tall glassy walls. My platinum-blond hair dances in the air in a ghostly fashion, and the only sound to be heard is my dirty old leather boots creaking against the shiny silver floor.

  The main tower entrance has sharp metal edges, which grow from the ground, and I feel tempted to touch the razor-sharp blades, when two tall identical looking men walk rapidly in my direction. Pale, withdrawn faces with hollow eyes and long silver hair. Lips, small and bitten, they seem sunken into their own skinny bodies, dry like raisins.

  In icy breath, both of them utter at the same time: “We’ve been expecting you, Nora Hunt.” The echo screams through the empty walls and bounces back in my ears, ringing like loud bells. “We’re the Scorpion brothers – guardians of the south wing tower for Jarl Raiders, where you’ll be staying.”

  They turn and head back up the hallway. I loosen the muscles in my face and release the breath I’ve been holding on to. I look up and catch a glimpse of the swirling floors hanging over my head. I follow the Scorpion brothers and as we reach the end of the hallway, they click their fingers simultaneously and the stairs spiral down in our direction.

  “Where are we going?” I ask hesitantly. My heart feels tight inside my chest, and I don’t feel like stepping onto the spinning steps.

  “We’re taking you to your welcome assembly. Magnus and other members of the Jarl Dynasty have been waiting anxiously for your arrival.” Their eyes move like gleaming slugs, slow and slimy.

  “Late for what?” I enquire and put one foot onto the stairs. My foot steadies, but my mind performs a volcanic eruption. Did I miss something? Last time I saw Magnus he was speaking inside my head. He knew I could hear him, because my eyes acknowledged his message.

  “Only the elites get an assembly. The imperial court demands it,” say the Scorpion brothers. I breathe out hard, and my annoyance catches fire. The words sting me like venomous bees. In the East, no one is better than anyone else, and in the West, the visible hierarchies will tell you where you belong. I’ll have to get used to being an Elite Raider. The title comes with perks too. I guess I’ll have to find out how vain I am.

  “We’re in the West now, Nora Hunt. Someone like you must learn the customs and values we live by.”

  “You must be joking,” I say with a hint of irony in my voice. The Scorpion brothers gape at me as anger creeps across their faces. I nod. I’ll just have to get used to this division.

  “We never joke, about anything,” they say and furrow their brows. How they speak and act so fluidly is a mystery. I follow them quickly, trying not to lose my footing on the moving stairs. We make it to the top, and walk briskly into a long hallway that leads us nowhere in particular. The towers are ghostly, white and plain, leaving nothing of interest. Every section looks the same.

  Some walls are transparent, and I can see people behind them. Others have water seeping through them. When I touch the wall next to me, it’s ice cold and outside the warm summer night is black and quiet, keeping the motionless air cool inside the towers.

  When we reach an intersection, I turn my head and notice five dark silhouettes in long flaring capes crossing the hall. Faces covered by black metal masks. One of the figures takes off his mask and I recognize those heavenly blue eyes. He fixes his eyes on me and nods in my direction.

  “Nora,” Frederick whispers my name so it echoes in a sudden wind. He’s some distance away, but I hear him very clearly. Almost as if he was standing right next to me. He takes off his cape and I examine parts of his visible body, a large tattoo – black wings, strong not broken – embracing his arms and neck. The black crow looks majestic against his pale skin.

  “Keep moving,” say the Scorpion brothers. I unlock my eyes from Frederick’s and follow them into a white room. Frederick looks different. Pale, like he’s risen from the dead.

  “Do not mingle with Rognvald. Dark raiders follow a very different discipline from the Jarl Dynasty.”

  “How different?”

  “They use black magic to get what they want.”

  “And we don’t?”

  “Jarl Raiders don’t need any magic, Nora Hunt.” The scorpion brothers stop abruptly and cast me a sideways glance. “Magic is for the weak and insecure. The real power is in here.” One of them points his long skinny finger at my temple. “That’s the only magic you’ll ever need, if used correctly.”

  “There’s no magic, just wisdom,” I say. “Isn’t that what we’re taught at the Jarl Dynasty?” They glance away.

  “You’ll soon lear
n, the ways of the West and the ways of the Jarls.” They fold their arms across their narrow chests. “Welcome to the Jarl Dynasty, Nora Hunt.”

  Through the doorway, we have stopped next to a large hall. I stare into the wide and open space. Eighty or so curious faces are inside the room leaning forward to eavesdrop. My face gets hot. Among the unfamiliar faces, my eyes seek familiarity.

  “We’ve been expecting you, Nora Hunt” says Magnus and smiles mischievously. “Finally, you arrive to your welcome assembly.” He leads me into the room and I take a seat next to him, and I know I am indispensable.

  3

  THE ROOM IS dim and torches flicker high against the white walls in the assembly. All eyes are watching my every move. Magnus relaxes his serious expression and continues with a subtle elegance and grace. His silver cloak drapes over his chair and majestically he runs his fingers through his black hair. A hard expression creeps across his face.

  I follow the movements in Magnus’s eyes. I’m not in some magic bubble, I’m in the West, where raiders’ attire follows code and rank. Elites are to wear silver cloaks embroidered with red patterns. Most of the people around me wear colorful clothes, and are decorated in heavy accessories.

  There are Jarl Raiders with electric gray, silver and blue dyed hair, and stares so deadly they can make your heart skip a beat. Wide eyes, narrow eyes, in lime-colored shades curiously staring at me. Some have arctic-blue eyes, and others like Magnus have smoky gray. Most of them wear clothes like they’re going to a costume party.

  “Jarls! In this assembly, we welcome our new member, Nora Hunt. As you know she has made it past all the challenges at Dock Harbor, rightfully securing her place with us today. I’ve been following Nora’s progression since day one closely. A born Judith—” whispers among the Jarl Raiders get louder, and I try not to let it bother me. These whispers are not of contempt, but approval.

  “—Nora Hunt joins the Jarl Dynasty—” Magnus is interrupted when suddenly Frederick and four others enter the assembly. The Scorpion brothers cast them dirty looks and I instantly recognize Mona and Peter’s faces hidden under their jet-black hoods. My heart feels weak, but only just for a moment when my eyes meet Frederick’s. The look on his face is poisonous and full of resentment.

  “Leave now! Rognvald has no business in the south wing,” say the Scorpion brothers, but they are ignored. Magnus stands up and grabs his cloak from the chair and walks toward Frederick with his fists clenched tightly.

  “Frederick Dahl, I congratulate you for making it to the towers. Finally, you’re catching up with the rest of us,” says Magnus bitterly. He throws his body into the cloak, broadens his shoulders and straightens his spine to reach Frederick at eye level.

  “You’ll be the one needing to catch up with my band – we’re already ahead of you,” Frederick’s jaw tightens. He fakes a smile and cocks his head to the side to look over in my direction. His expression softens, “Nora—” his gloved hand is reaching out for me.

  “She’s a Jarl Raider now, Frederick,” whispers Mona. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Oh, so you came for Nora Hunt, did you?” asks Magnus. “She’s made her choice – quite clearly…”

  “Frederick, why are you here?” I stand up and look at him, trying to reason with his actions. Does he really think he can still convince me to join his band?

  One part of me wants to grab his hand and run, and never look back. But it’s the weak part that doesn’t think logically. The other part of me wants to scream at him and tell him to turn around and never come looking for me again.

  As I glance around, the stern faces in the crowd don’t seem amused or bothered by the heated conversation taking place between us. Frederick must have manipulated some of them. How does someone so beautiful act so beastly? Delicately, he reaches out his hand to me.

  “You don’t belong here,” whispers Frederick. I feel a forceful pull toward him, his persuasion powers have grown and are much stronger. Magnus steps forward.

  “You need to leave now!” His face contorts. Some security men dressed in brown suits arrive at the entrance and ask Frederick and his band to step away from the assembly. Before he turns away he glances at me again. The dragon rage in his eyes is the same frightful ocean I dreamed about in Karen’s house.

  He buries his hands in his golden locks and jerks away. Frederick takes off his black cape and his muscly back reveals a large tattoo. Two raven circles with wings. Eyes of the crow on fire and dangerous. The muscles on his back shift like waves, strong and undefeatable as he judders around the grounds like thunder.

  Magnus catches my attention and turns me around to face him. Rage is creeping in to his gray misty eyes.

  “Tell me I don’t have to worry about anything,” he throws his head forward and my eyes meet his. “Tell me—”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about,” I say calmly. “There’s nothing—”

  “I don’t believe you. We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he says. “This assembly is adjourned.” I don’t get to say anything or even speak to the members of my new band. Just like that Magnus dismisses the assembly and I left with a feeling of horror. This is not what I had in mind for joining Jarls.

  Everyone gets up and starts walking out. Magnus snaps his fingers, and a little girl, perhaps aged ten, runs speedily in his direction. Like she’s been waiting all night for him to call for her.

  “Take Nora to her room,” says Magnus. “And make sure she gets all that she needs.” The little girl nods and her cheeks turn pink. She desperately takes my hand into hers.

  “Come, Nora. Mina will show you. Your room marvelous. Skies visible in windows.” Her eyes are large and pitch black, like the dungeon in Dock Harbor. She tosses back her long, brown silky hair and shoots off like an unleashed dog.

  “Magnus?” I say, but he has already walked away. I wonder what he is thinking. Will he speak inside my head again? Does he question my loyalty to the Jarl Dynasty? No. That’s not it. He knows that I am in love with Frederick Dahl.

  Mina takes me somewhere at the top of the tower and we walk into a large marble room surrounded by thick glass windows from top to bottom. Outside the sky is shark gray and it’s blowing a gale. There’s no bed, no chairs. Just an empty cold room. Mina pushes her hands against the wall and it opens. She pulls out a mat.

  “For you, Nora.” She unfolds it and pats it gently with her small firm hands.

  “How did you know—”

  “You from East,” she says with certainty. “East people live simple.”

  I observe Mina closely. Her dark skin looks baby-soft and flawless, and tiny near-invisible light-brown freckles are peppered around her face. She’s wild by nature, but has clearly been tamed.

  “Who told you that?”

  Mina shows me the images in her hologram.

  “That’s not the East,” I tell her. “These images—”

  “East,” she shuts down her chip. “Mina must go now. You need me. I return.”

  “Why do you speak—”

  She’s already at the door glaring at me and I quickly realize she’s not very good at taking orders. Clearly, she doesn’t care about what Magnus told her, and I wonder why that is.

  “Wait, Mina—” But she’s already gone and I’m in hell and captive in this tall empty tower. There’s nothing and nobody here. Then I remember what Mina did. I walk back to the high wall, and softly press my hands against it the same way Mina did adding a light pressure with my palms. Nothing happens so I keep pushing along the walls.

  There’s got to be something behind these walls. Suddenly one of them opens. It’s a different way leading out to an empty hallway. But which way could lead me to the north wing, where Rognvald reside? I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to speak to Frederick, but I really need to see him. There was so much anger and hate in his eyes. I’ve never seen him like that.

  I don’t want Magnus to think I’m going to be disloyal to my band, but he must un
derstand that Frederick and I share a past. We’ve been on missions together in the Forbidden Areas relying only on each other, and he is protecting me against his own kind, but I’m not sure if he’s had other motives like using me to get to Eldor where we discovered the golden horn.

  I take off my boots and walk with bare feet against the cold glass floor. It’s a pitch-dark hall, and I have no idea how to get to the Rognvalds’ residence. Outside the wind is furious and I feel dizzy. We’re pretty high up.

  What would happen if Magnus found out that I was trying to see Frederick? Magnus has a strong ability to detect my emotions before myself like he’s known me my entire life. I still have to learn about who Magnus really is, aside from the Elite Raider leading the Jarl Dynasty. His charisma is strong and empowering. Why does he have this effect on people?

  As I reach the main hall everything is cool steel. No arches and no shapes. It’s just bare. The tower is razor sharp and it feels like I am being caught inside a sword.

  As I walk across the floor I hear voices coming from below. I lay flat on the floor and place my ear to the ground. The sound is muffled and suddenly the tiles begin to tilt downward. I slide into a tunnel, and land flat on my back as the ceiling closes above me. I find myself in a dim little box room.

  I look through the crack in the door and see shadows moving. It’s Magnus, Tove, Maja and Tene. They speak in hushed voices, and Magnus’s body is tense with rage.

  Magnus: “The Rognvald Dynasty is stronger and I sense their growing powers.”

  Tene: “But we will be stronger now that she’s joined. We have to form an alliance with the senate and with Orken—”

  Maja: “Orkeney doesn’t count. They’re not loyal to anyone except—”

 

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