The Ice King

by Hume, M. K.

  At this all those present quietened. As Aednetta lay, propped up high on pillows to assist her breathing, every man in the grim room could hear the ominous rattle in her breathing and the moist, sodden sound of every indrawn breath; the girl was drowning in her own blood. Her lips were blue, and the pallor of her clammy skin was even more pronounced than usual. Her flesh seemed transparent, as if her life force was shining through the fragile barrier of her skin and dissipating into the darkness that enveloped Hrolf Kraki’s sanctuary, even in daylight.

  As Lorcan gave Extreme Unction to Aednetta, the Christians in the group crossed themselves, even though the Latin was incomprehensible to them. Only Stormbringer and Germanus seemed comfortable in the presence of rituals that brought redemption to a dying soul.

  Aednetta momentarily surfaced out of her stupor during the performance of the rites, probably because she was suffering from surges of agonising pain. Even poppy juice could fail dismally if the wounds were severe. As soon as he realised she was partially awake, Lorcan switched to the Dene language which he now spoke with a far greater facility than either Germanus or Gareth, and arranged the ritual in such a manner that she was able to give an almost imperceptible nod of her head in response to his questions.

  And so Father Lorcan completed the Last Rites and Aednetta was permitted to show her contrition for the sins of her short life.

  As they waited for Snorri to return with the guard, those present in the king’s bedchamber tried to avoid thinking about Aednetta’s fate. The dying are entitled to privacy, but Arthur wanted these men, especially Stormbringer and Frodhi, to bear witness to the death of the witch-woman. Father Lorcan ordered more wine, although he was aware that another dose of poppy juice would probably prove fatal. But, as he explained later, if the potion accelerated her passing, then such a fate was kind rather than murderous.

  Once Aednetta was unconscious again, the audience began to breathe easier. At least one person in the room was glad that he had been freed from the accusations emanating from those terrified eyes.

  The warrior, Karl, entered the room a few moments after Aednetta took her last breath, as Lorcan was straightening the dead girl’s limbs to give her remains a semblance of the dignity that the murderer had taken from her. Karl stared at the body, sickened and appalled.

  ‘When did this assault happen, lord?’ Karl asked, his face screwed up like that of a small child hovering on the brink of tears. ‘I had a feeling there was something wrong during my time at the door, but I had no idea what had happened until now. Rumours are rife.’

  ‘Why would you feel so uneasy?’ Arthur asked, frowning.

  Karl struggled to find the exact words he needed, but Arthur could read no guilt in his open and uncomplicated face.

  ‘I . . . I . . . don’t remember the time ever passing as quickly as it did last night. I remember the early hours of my guard duty when the servants of Heorot were about their master’s duties. I heard old Poul, the kitchen slave, when he was hauling wood into the main hall for the fire pit . . . and I swear I heard someone stirring the embers in the room when more wood was added to the fire. I had slept for several hours before taking up my duty because Lord Frodhi had explained how crucial my duty was to the safety of the realm. He told me that no one, including himself, was to enter the Crow King’s room until I was relieved from my task – for any reason!’

  The lad was visibly upset, so Stormbringer patted his shoulder with a large, callused hand.

  ‘I’m sure I didn’t go to sleep when I was on watch. I couldn’t have – or I’d have remembered it, wouldn’t I?’

  ‘Did you drink or eat anything while you were on duty? Come, Karl, there’s no sin in drinking a mug of beer or eating a slab of cheese during the long reaches of the night. Could you see clearly from your post?’

  Karl clenched his fists as he struggled to remember.

  ‘Yes, I could see quite well. An oil lamp was burning on the floor.’

  Snorri made his way back through the door, while the young warrior continued to wrestle with his memory. The helmsman returned with a pottery lamp; Arthur could smell the dregs of fish oil inside and a fragment of dark flaxen wick still sat in place at one end to provide a dim light. Someone, probably the second guard, had extinguished the small flame when Snorri arrived to rouse Aednetta as the first light of dawn came over the horizon. A similar lamp sat on a small bench beside the luxurious bed where Aednetta had met her grisly end.

  ‘The lamp seems harmless,’ Arthur decided, and Karl cringed at the gleam reflected in the Last Dragon’s strange eyes. ‘Now, did you eat or drink during the night?’

  The young man’s eyes suddenly sharpened and he cursed with excitement like a peasant.

  ‘I remember now! I did eat! A tray with food and beer had been left for us. Just a jug of beer and a couple of pieces of dried fish and some nuts, but I remember the tray was beside that oil lamp. I didn’t fancy the nuts, but I ate one of the pieces of fish and I drank a full mug of beer.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what, Lord Arthur? I don’t understand.’

  Arthur sighed with exasperation. ‘What do you remember next, Karl?’

  ‘My feet were cold! I sat down on the floor to rub some life into them and then put my boots on again. The sheepskin seemed warmer once I’d done that . . . I noticed that my shadow made odd patterns on the wall, and I recall thinking that I could have used my hands to make children’s shadow pictures.’ The young man paused. ‘You know, master! Like the rabbit or the hound!’

  Arthur realised Karl had been doing his utmost to remember every detail of the disastrous night that had just passed. With a visible effort, which only succeeded in flustering the guard into silence, Arthur stopped himself from cuffing Karl across the ears to jog his memory.

  ‘And . . .’ Stormbringer put in gently.

  ‘And . . .’ Karl’s open face was distraught. ‘Nothing! I have dishonoured my name and I’ve shamed my father! I must have fallen asleep on duty, so this poor creature has died because I failed to follow the orders of my king. I am beyond forgiveness . . .’

  The words that tumbled out began to trail away as the full enormity of his dereliction of duty sank in.

  ‘Snorri! Fetch the food tray!’ Arthur ordered.

  ‘The lad has done his best to remember the events of the night, Arthur,’ Frodhi exclaimed from the bed where he had been standing quietly, as if he wished to protect Aednetta’s corpse from any further indignities. ‘He isn’t at fault here!’

  Arthur said nothing because Snorri had returned with empty hands. The helmsman shrugged expressively. ‘It’s not there!’

  ‘Then find it, Snorri. And give no explanations to anyone, even if they outrank you.’

  Snorri padded away once more without complaint. He guessed that the young guard must have been drugged and his master was seeking proof of this. As he hurried towards the separate building where the kitchens were located, he wondered at how easily his master had assumed control of this investigation while the uncrowned king and the Sae Dene ruler remained passive spectators as the events of the night were unfolding.

  He’s destined to become a king himself one day, Snorri thought, as he approached the servants who were clustered around a small fire in their spartan living space. A man could do well if he was prepared to follow in the footsteps of the Last Dragon.

  He spent a few moments finding the old woman who had been ordered to prepare the food and drink for the guards, and have it delivered to the guard post. A few more moments were spent discovering that a kitchen-hand had gathered up the tray in the hubbub of the discovery of the dying Aednetta and had washed and cleaned everything. The rheumy-eyed old man finally confessed that he had eaten the single remaining piece of fish left on the tray. He added that he hadn’t liked his first taste of the beer so had thrown the rest away.


  ‘Did the beer smell strange? Come on, old man, the great ones are waiting, so don’t fuck me around. You’d have drunk that beer in an instant, frightened or not.’

  The old slave cringed as if he expected to be beaten. ‘It smelled funny. I only had a taste, but I thought it had gone off . . . please, master, I meant no harm.’

  With a curse to show his displeasure, Snorri retraced his steps and reported his findings to Arthur.

  ‘So now we know!’ Arthur’s voice was cold and hard, like the ice that covered Heorot’s roofs on that bitter and cheerless morning. ‘Snorri, Lorcan and Germanus, I need you to guard these doors and keep everyone away. I don’t care how you do it. This room is to be kept private until such time as I tell you otherwise. Is that understood?’

  ‘Arthur, this poor child must be laid out and prayers said for her overburdened soul,’ Lorcan protested.

  ‘She’s not going anywhere, so we’ll allow the rites for the dead to wait. Do what I say, and take Karl with you.’

  The older men left the room and its palpable horrors with a sense of relief.

  ‘And now I know what was done,’ Arthur whispered as the door closed behind his friends’ retreating backs.

  Silence! Had they chosen to listen, any of the four men in the room could have heard the scuttling vermin in the straw of the roof. Black eyes peered down from the shadows as rats stalked the rafters while they struggled to find a way to reach the bags of grain and the dried meat that hung there tantalisingly. And then the sound of an icicle breaking loose from the roof cracked sharply like a breaking bone.

  The long period of mute accusation was far too long and too suspicious for at least one of the men there, but every man present had some secrets in the darkest corners of their souls that they would prefer to keep private.

  ‘Well, Arthur?’ Stormbringer demanded. ‘I hope you can throw some light on what’s happened here, because I’m completely flummoxed. You say the guard was drugged, but how?’

  ‘How long would it take to drop some powder into a jug of wine? Or beer? Someone other than Aednetta knows how to kill and to send grown men into a state of unconsciousness. I noticed that the guard’s pupils were still dilated by some form of drug even as he was talking to us. He was still confused.’

  Stormbringer lapsed into silence as he tried to think his way through the puzzle. Soundlessly, Gareth moved into a position where he could protect Arthur from a sudden attack, even from his Sae Dene friend.

  The silence was almost agonising as Arthur turned to face Frodhi.

  ‘Why did you plot against your cousin, Frodhi? Did you desire to be king so badly that you could betray your honour so easily? I was convinced that you were the guilty man from the very beginning, Frodhi, because I understood the ways that you had trained Aednetta to think.’

  ‘What are you raving about, Briton? Who among us has been more loyal to the Dene cause than I have?’ Frodhi’s voice was hoarse and Arthur wondered how he had ever thought this Dene was charming. Even the new king’s handsome face seemed to have coarsened and no humour remained in his blade-sharp eyes.

  Part of Stormbringer’s mind could easily follow Arthur’s logic, but a lifetime of friendship and adoration of his older kinsman made it almost impossible for the Sae Dene to accept his cousin’s guilt.

  Arthur turned to address him.

  ‘Aednetta lusted after power, Valdar! You knew her very well, my friend. Would she have betrayed Hrolf Kraki for a man who was less aristocratic than a member of the royal family? Never! Aednetta placed a very high value on her flesh. And who is the only other man of your status who is as handsome and as charming as yourself? Your other cousin, the man who happens to be Hrolf Kraki’s heir. Frodhi was an eminently suitable lover for any woman of good taste. I believe she loved Frodhi without reservation, because he was able to strike the first of his blows without alerting her to his intentions. Only a man such as he could have manoeuvred her into purchasing the poisons and relaying treasonous messages to the Hundings in person. I suspected him from the moment that Hrolf Kraki died. Quite simply, Frodhi had more to gain than you or, for that matter, anyone else in the Dene kingdom.’

  ‘Me?’ Stormbringer yelped. ‘I’d never stoop to poisoning! How could you have considered that I’d do such a thing?’ He was more shocked by the possibility that he had been under suspicion than if Arthur had accused him directly of the crime of murder. Yet the revelation of Frodhi’s complicity caused him little surprise.

  ‘Personally, I’d never be prepared to commit murder, but you both had much to gain in committing these crimes. Men kill for power or wealth, or both, but they rarely kill for love – do they, Frodhi?’

  ‘Aye, Arthur. You are quite correct in your assumptions about me, but there’s nothing you can possibly do about it. I’m the king now, whether you like it or not. As the king, I have all the trappings of power at my fingertips, but I’m loath to use them on you, my young friend. You have served the Dene cause well, and the kingdom has survived Hrolf Kraki’s stupidity. You’re inconvenient . . . but you can’t touch me.’

  Frodhi lifted his chin and smiled slowly. Even Stormbringer flinched as those blank eyes swept over him.

  ‘That’s generous of you,’ Arthur replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘I expect that too many questions would be asked if I were to die suddenly.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Stormbringer protested. ‘You sent aid to us, Frodhi. You saved us from the Geats and the Hundings. We could never have defeated them without your ships and your warriors.’

  ‘Of course he did,’ Arthur explained patiently. ‘The last thing that Frodhi wanted was to inherit a ruined kingdom. The Sae Dene warriors protect the islands and the coast of the mainland. No land army can totally protect the Dene Mark from attack; he made sure you escaped from Hrolf Kraki’s banishment because he needed you to keep the kingdom safe. Perhaps he even loves you as his kin . . . but I never entered into his plans. He never expected you to return from your voyage to Britain with noble captives, so I was merely a happy accident who helped him with his ambitions.’

  ‘You were a valuable asset until this morning, Briton, but you’re too damn sharp by half! I probably should have neutralised you after the Battle of Lake Wener, but you were out of my reach and to attack you was to weaken Stormbringer. I couldn’t permit that to happen.’

  ‘But you’d have allowed my sister and my daughters to perish at The Holding,’ Stormbringer whispered in a voice thick with shock and misery. ‘She’s your cousin! And my daughters are also your kin.’

  The king’s eyes dropped, seemingly with shame. Daughters were valued within Dene society, but Arthur began to realise that Frodhi might actually have an aversion to women. He had never wed and, except for this dalliance with Aednetta, had never been known to take a mistress.

  ‘They’re only females, cousin, so what can they really matter? As it turned out, the British bitch with the black hair managed to keep your kin safe, so there was no harm done.’

  Frodhi was almost pleading with Stormbringer, and Arthur realised that a genuine affection still existed between these two strong men.

  But Stormbringer was nauseated at Frodhi’s callous words.

  ‘No harm?’ the Sae Dene asked in a soft and controlled voice. ‘I loved you, Frodhi!’

  With deliberation, Stormbringer turned his back on his cousin in an attempt to blot out the beloved and hated face as if such an action would excise Frodhi from his life.

  ‘What are we to do with this monster, Arthur? And how can the kingdom be set to rights?’

  ‘We can do nothing to Aednetta’s killer, Valdar,’ Arthur replied with some regret. But his eyes never left Frodhi’s face as he spoke. ‘You haven’t flinched from regicide, Frodhi, so would you also want Stormbringer’s death on your conscience?’

  ‘Of course
I don’t want Stormbringer dead. He’s an asset to any king, which is something that Hrolf Kraki never understood. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that the Mark would fall if Stormbringer wasn’t here to hold us together. The Crow King would have turned the Dene people into slaves because of his superstitions, cousin, so I did you a favour by removing him from this world. Wouldn’t you agree?’

  Stormbringer shook his head violently and his plaits flew like serpents around his head.

  ‘No, Frodhi! No, by God! I cannot bear the thought of the traitorous and dishonourable things you have done on this terrible day . . . and I cannot tolerate the stain you have inflicted on the honour of our family. But I can’t think of a remedy.’

  Arthur finally decided to reassure his friend and end the discussion. The politics of the situation were a coil that could not be unravelled, only cut.

  ‘What has occurred here is unfortunate, Valdar, but you must remain silent and endure the pain of what you have seen and heard today. The Dene kingdom cannot survive a civil war, because the Hundings and the Geats will lick their wounds while you tear yourselves apart, and then they’ll gladly accept their shares of the ruins that remain. Do you want to lose The Holding? Would you choose to go to war against your cousin? Many good men have been forced to live with far worse secrets than those you’ll be obliged to bear.’

  ‘But, Arthur, how can you expect me to continue to speak with him, and to serve him, while I know that he’s a regicideand a coward who’ll beat a harmless woman to death? He would have permitted that foolish boy, Karl, to be killed for dereliction of duty, and he’d not have turned a hair. He’s a monster!’

  ‘Certainly! But Frodhi is the monster that your people need at this time in their history. You’ll have to do what needs to be done because you’re the Lord of the Storm and Frodhi . . . well, Frodhi’s just another petty king.’

  ‘I love you too, Arthur!’ Frodhi retorted with a contented smile. ‘You’re presupposing I will allow you to prance out of here unscathed. I’m perfectly capable of removing all of you – and I would if I had to. I’ve come too far to turn back now when the prize is so close.’