by Susan Wright
Through the olf, I could even sense the overlord’s secret elation. He had a deeper reason for sealing an alliance with Birgir—his grandfather had dreamed of gaining sovereignty over all of the western maritime lands, but Ejegod’s family had ruled with far too strong a hand. Jedvard had bribed Silveta’s father to marry her to Ejegod, but had not imagined it would bring him this boon. Silveta’s father was still a thorn to be dealt with, but the magnificent bride price that Birgir would be forced to pay would solve her family’s current financial problems.
“Jedvard intends to accept Birgir’s oath,” I murmured, as it became clear in my mind. Lexander turned to look at me.
“No! My father will not allow it,” Silveta snapped, her eyes wild.
I shook off the last trace of my communion with the olfs. “Your father is here now.”
“My father!” Silveta stood up, as if ready to run to him. “How do you know?”
“The olfs told me.”
Silveta let out a disbelieving laugh. “You are daft! Do you think I’ll believe some mythical creatures informed you that my own father would betray me?”
The olf above my head vanished. They hated to be denied.
“The olfs are watching over you,” I said seriously. “They’ve saved you time and again.”
Silveta dismissed me with a wave, sitting back down. “They do a poor job, if this is the result.”
Stung, I remembered how often the olfs had prevented harm from falling on her. “Would you have me prove their devotion to you? The olfs are the ones who led us through the woods when we escaped. They told me to save you.”
She remembered how I had guided her in the dark, though she hadn’t believed it was possible. I found that people often refused to see what was right before their eyes. But I could not let Silveta deny the olfs. They depended on her.
Lexander was listening closely. He did not see the olfs, but he had never questioned my understanding of them. My da’s kin treated olfs as a mere superstition. They had laughed and thought me half addled. But Lexander had always been respectful of them though he couldn’t see them himself.
“Hush!” Lexander whispered, leaning closer to the door. Voices echoed up the stairwell.
“My father!” Silveta exclaimed, leaping to her feet. “He’s come for me.”
I hoped for the best. Jens had promised faithfully to return. But faint tendrils of evil seeped into the room, and my skin grew cold.
The latch on the door lifted, and it swung open. Two guards came in first, their short-swords in their hands. They stepped to either side of the door as another man climbed the stairs, carrying a basket.
Niall looked directly at me as he entered, smiling slyly. “That kindhearted boy insisted that you get some food. No candles, of course, or you might burn the place down.”
He thrust the basket into Lexander’s hands. Then Niall came so close to me that I backed against the wall, feeling the wood paneling beneath my desperate fingers.
“Yes, you would do well to run from me,” Niall murmured, never taking his eyes off mine. His hand twitched at his side. I thought he was going to hit me.
Lexander dropped the basket to step up to Niall.
“Stay out of this,” Niall told him. “Birgir cares not that you’ve helped this wildcat.” He gestured over his shoulder to Silveta. “You can leave now. The guards will let you go. Return to Tillfallvik and tell them that the overlord supports Birgir’s rule of Markland, in the name of the one true god of Kristna.”
Silveta cried out, “But my father!”
“He cares not who you’re wed to,” Niall retorted. “So go, man, be loyal to your chieftain. You have much to gain from cooperating with us.”
Niall clearly thought Lexander was a simple man from Tillfallvik, loyal to Ejegod. Fear washed over me at the thought of my master leaving us. But he must go; Lexander could get help from his allies for us.
Silveta’s voice was harsh as she spoke to Lexander. “Go, man! You did your duty to bring me here. I release you now.”
“Yes,” I murmured. “Go.” It was our only hope of rescue.
“The girl wants it,” Niall taunted. “But then, you were exceedingly eager last night. This time you will not bespell me, sorceress.” He ordered the guards, “Take him away. His crew of boys awaits him. And lock the door after you.”
Lexander’s amber eyes narrowed. His hand went to the short knife at his waist.
“Go,” I repeated through gritted teeth. Surely I could survive what Niall did to me until Lexander returned to save us. I would do whatever I could to keep Niall from attacking Silveta. But if she could endure Birgir, Niall could hardly be worse.
Lexander pulled his knife. “Not while I stand.”
Both the guards lifted their swords, crying out, “Halt!”
Niall’s eyes widened. “She has suborned you, too? Quick work, girl,” he drawled. “Did you bed him on the journey here in front of all of those lusty boys?”
“You’ll not taste her charms,” Lexander declared. “I’ll kill you first.”
Niall’s hand went to his ax. “No man lives who makes such a boast!”
“Stand down,” one of the guards ordered. The big one stood in the doorway. “There’ll be no fighting here. You”—he pointed at Niall—“you’ve delivered the food. Now get out. If the bondsman wants to stay with his freya, then ’tis his right.”
Lexander held his knife ready as Niall hesitated.
Then Niall grinned, letting his hand fall from his ax. “I’ll have her soon enough. We depart at dawn to speed Silveta to her loving husband. Then this slave shall be mine.”
Niall laughed at my shock, then gave Lexander a mocking salute as he withdrew. The two guards followed him, and the latch fell with a solid clank as it was locked shut.
“Why didn’t you go, Lexander?” Silveta cried. “You could have gotten help for us.”
He resheathed his knife. “I couldn’t leave you here with that man.”
“Better that than to condemn me to Birgir’s mercies!” Silveta tore at her hair and threw herself on the bed, the drapes billowing out around her.
I felt much the same, but I couldn’t protest when I saw how his decision tormented him. Lexander knew I understood, and he put his arms around me. I melted into him in my need for solace.
“I couldn’t let him harm you,” he whispered.
If only I could have stayed that way forever. I leaned my face against his chest and heard his steady heartbeat. But instead of being flushed and warm from his confrontation with Niall, his skin was cool to the touch as always, reminding me that he was not a man.
He felt me stiffen, and released me. I almost protested, willing to give anything to be one with him again. But my mam’s warnings were too true. I couldn’t let myself surrender to him. I must go to the Otherworld only when I was safely dead. At this moment, it looked as if it would be at Niall’s hand.
With a sigh, Lexander returned to his post by the door. I sank down on the hard wooden floor. Silveta was crying helplessly on the bed.
When Silveta finally slept from sheer exhaustion, the curtains drawn tight around her, I approached Lexander.
By the light of the crescent moon, I went to kneel before him. My pose was lydnad, obedience, kneeling straight from shoulders to knees with my eyes down. “I beg of you to help us, Master.”
He sat, leaning against the door. “Marja . . . I am not as powerful as you think.”
I swallowed. “Do you require a sacrifice? I would give anything of myself to escape.”
“I saw that.” His hand reached out to caress my hair.
“Then why won’t you save us? Surely a god could keep us all from harm.”
His hand dropped away from me, and he stared off into the darkness. “It’s true that some of my people, the oldest among us, are considered gods. With only a thought, they could smite Birgir where he stands. But I haven’t their powers, not yet. I can control only my own flesh, not the elements aroun
d me. I could not fly from here, nor carry you with me, much as I long to.”
“So you can suffer, too?”
“Yes. I will fight these men who try to harm you, but you must know that even with my great strength, I can be struck down.”
“Can’t you ask your people for help?”
His voice was soft but resolute. “I abandoned Vidaris, Marja. They would sooner kill me themselves. But I could not endure it another moment longer. I could not see you broken as a toy for their amusement.”
I was stunned. “Is there no hope then?”
“It seems to me that you have powerful friends, Marja. You escaped from Birgir once before and saved Silveta. Look to yourself for your deliverance.”
It was too dark for me to see him well, but he was in earnest. He was my master, a godling in his own right, yet he needed my help.
I knew what I must do.
I went to the basket and rummaged through it by touch. There were ripe cranberries along with a heavy loaf of bread and two joints of a large bird. A water jug held mead. I drank deeply and gave it to Lexander to do the same. Then I set it on the hearth uncorked. The coals were long dead, merely ash. I glanced up the flue, but it was a tube too small for me to pass through. Olfs leaped into the draft of a flue to be sucked outside, enjoying the rush of air and the ride.
I sat down to concentrate, calling the olfs to me. I could feel them out there, milling about in the bastion. But none of them responded. After trying over and over, I knew that Silveta’s denouncement was keeping them at bay. Olfs were very sensitive. It did not seem likely that any would be tempted to come back for the mead when they could get all they wanted elsewhere in the bastion.
The longer I sat on the floor, the more I heard the booming of the ocean waves against the base of the cliffs. The sea spirits were trying to answer my call.
I fetched the loaf of bread from the basket, hefting it in my hand. It smelled like ground barley and rye mixed with whey and honey. My belly was empty and I longed to taste it, but my sacrifice would mean more if I was hungry. I climbed onto the bench under the window and leaned out, tearing off a chunk of the bread and tossing it far into the air. The bread arced away from the wall of the bastion, tumbling down to bounce off the rocks below and into the boiling waves.
I threw out chunks of bread again and again, giving it all before they were satisfied. I could not touch the water, so my only hope lay in reaching them through sacrifice. I received scattered, faint images from the sea spirits as if I were looking through layers of silk—our longship had departed with the boys, taking a message from the overlord in support of Birgir as chieftain. There was fighting in Tillfallvik, with Ejegod’s bondi still holding the waterfront, waiting for Silveta to return with reinforcements. I even saw Helanas standing at the gate of Vidaris, looking out to sea and wondering where Lexander was.
I tried to ask the sea spirits for guidance, but they were like the olfs. The creatures thought only of what was happening now—the future was of no consequence to them. They could not predict what Birgir would do, or what would become of us. Only gods and humans considered the coming days and manipulated events to suit their desires.
When the bread was gone, the sea spirits had nothing more to show me. I could not jump out far enough to dive into the water. The rocks would take me first to my death.
I slowly turned away and sat down on the bench under the window. Lexander was still leaning against the door, watching me. He was in the shadows, while I was bathed in the faintest glow from the sliver of moon.
Was there nowhere else to turn? From the overlord’s reaction, I could tell the Norogods were supporting Birgir, though he claimed to have only Kristna at his side. I was not surprised my da’s gods would choose Birgir since he had won at arms. They thrived on conflict. As for the bastion, I did not know the spirits who claimed it and would have no right to call on them.
Then my mam’s face appeared before my eyes, answering my anguished cry for help. She was woken from her sleep by my need. The roaring of the ocean here echoed the waves in far-off Jarnby, linking us together. I praised the wisdom of the sea spirits for bringing us together.
She prayed to her Skraeling gods to answer my call for help. Issitoq, the punisher of taboos, replied to her, acknowledging that betrayal was at the heart of my pain.
We joined together in our call, seeking retribution for the overlord’s duplicity. He had agreed to support Silveta and had spoken his pledge aloud before his own councilors. Then he had sacrificed her for his own greed. I pleaded with Issitoq to claim vengeance by saving us.
In my mind’s eye, my mam sat staring into the fire in our modest longhouse, chanting under her breath so as to not awaken the others. She pulled a small knife from her belt, letting the glow of the coals glint off the blade.
I went over to Lexander. “I need your knife.”
He handed it to me, not knowing what I intended. I returned to the bench where I could hear the sea beneath me. My lips began to move in the same chant as my mam, the Skraeling words coming to me with her thoughts. I let the plea for help roll through me as we both pressed the point of the knives into our palms.
“Marja,” Lexander protested.
I let the sharp blade slice into my skin. I dragged it to form a red line to the base of my hand. Blood welled up, running down my uplifted arm. I could see my mam’s hand covered in blood. We let it drip onto the floor, chanting to give our inua wings to fly to Issitoq, to satiate him with our sacrifice.
Then I could hold it back no longer; the pain flashed through me, severing my connection with my mam. I gasped out loud, holding my wrist to let the blood drip free. I forced my lips to continue the Skraeling chant, over and over again. With each shining drop, I gave of myself to Issitoq. I knew that in Jarnby, my mam was doing the same.
I was still chanting dully when the moon set. I felt the chill that comes with the approaching morn but did not dare pause in my pleas to Issitoq. I, who had honored the gods always, begged to be heard.
It seemed like a dream when Lexander moved away from the entrance at the sound of the latch lifting. The door swung open. A candle lit the stairwell, revealing a guard. My lips faltered on the chant and finally stopped. The blood had congealed on my skin and left a shiny splotch on the floor.
Then Jens appeared. “Silveta! I’ve come to get you out of here.”
The curtains of the bed flung back, and Silveta came flying from her nest. “Jens! Can it be true?”
Lexander gestured to the guard. “What about him?”
“Gris has guarded me since I was a child—he’s my bondi.” The guard went back down a few steps to hold watch.
Jens held out both of his hands to Silveta. “Gris relieved the other guard early, but we must hurry for the real guard will arrive soon. No one must know you’re gone until Birgir’s men come to fetch you in the morn.”
Silveta hugged Jens in her eagerness. “You are truly a gift from the gods, Jens!”
Lexander started down the steps, calling, “Marja, come quickly!”
Fifteen
I was jolted out of the last vestiges of my trance. Cradling my hand, I hurried through the door. Jens latched it behind us, and Gris took up a stance in front of it. Then Jens led us down the spiral stairs, checking at each archway before gesturing us to pass. On the lowest floor, he led us to another set of stairs, this one more rickety and dark than the others. At the bottom, he gestured to the corridors with low stone ceilings that branched off in several directions. Lexander had to stoop so as not to brush his head.
“Through here,” Jens whispered. “There should be no one about right now. This will take us to the docks. You must get away quickly, before it’s discovered you’re missing.” Then he glanced at me. “Birgir’s men claim that she’s a sorceress, and they’ll likely think she flew you over the ocean.”
Lexander grinned at me. In spite of the danger I suddenly wanted to laugh.
Had Issitoq induced Jens to help
us? Or had Silveta truly won his heart?
But I had no time for such musings as we hurried through the dark passageway. In some sections, it tunneled through rock and changed levels, but Jens dashed along as if he knew the way. I could imagine him as a boy with his brothers, racing along these passageways to the far parts of the sprawling bastion.
Olfs popped up occasionally, but mostly they stayed at a distance. I was so drained from my long chant that I could barely acknowledge them. Most of them were preoccupied with spinning in the trailing cobwebs of dreams.
Then Jens led us into an alleyway that opened up above us. It took a moment for me to realize we were in the streets. The crash of the waves lay not far beyond these walls. The buildings were several stories high, with living quarters above shops and services for the townsfolk.
It was still dark, and Jens held his candle high for a moment. “It’s down this street all the way to the docks. If someone stops us, you go on and I’ll distract them.”
With that, we dashed down the narrow, twisting street, stumbling and slipping on the cobblestones. Once Silveta fell down on both knees, soiling the golden dress Jens had given her. He took her arm and supported her, holding the candle with his other hand.
Even at that late hour, a few people were on the streets. Several guards passed by, but they hardly glanced at us. A couple hurried down a cross lane, and I knew they were going somewhere to rut.
Then we reached the wide plaza that backed the gate to the docks. We stayed in the shadows, hiding behind the colonnade. There was a trio of guards on duty at the gate, but they were sitting aimlessly on a pile of empty crates. One was carving while another slept. There was no port official on duty. Likely they would alert their superior, who was sleeping in the gate tower, if they sighted a ship coming in.
“There’s the docks. Your oarsmen are still onboard your longship,” Jens assured Silveta.
“No, they’re gone.” I realized I had not told them. “The boys were sent back to Tillfallvik with a message that the overlord supports Birgir as chieftain and that Silveta will marry him when she returns.”