Fljótdís- Daughter of the North

by Sanita Trumpika

  Fljótdís looked at both of them in confusion. “What is going on?”

  The man spoke for her ears only. “We are going to get you out of here, Commander, tomorrow about this time.”

  She frowned. “How?”

  The Queen gave the man a telling look. “I will explain it to her, Åge. Go. We must not draw attention to you.”

  Åge nodded and bowing his respect to the Queen and Fljótdís, he left them, locking the door behind himself.

  Astrid sat down on the cold, dirty floor next to Fljótdís and handed her a bowl of hot soup.

  Fljótdís accepted it gratefully and ate voraciously.

  Astrid frowned at her hunger. “Slow down, Fljótdís. No one will take it from you.”

  The Queen watched Fljótdís as she ate. She was covered with bruises, filthy and pale as freshly fallen snow. And yet she sat in this condition, eating soup and joking about Ice Giants. Astrid admired her. She had never known anyone as strong as Fljótdís, especially not a woman. But even a woman as strong as this sometimes felt desperate and at this moment, despite her smile of thanks, she saw pain and desperation in Fljótdís’ eyes, however well masked.

  Fljótdís shifted, feeling uncomfortable beneath of Queen’s piercing gaze. “Now, will you tell me what is happening, my lady?”

  Astrid leaned nearer and whispered, “Helgi arrived in the town two nights ago. Don’t worry. He is safe. He asked for my help to find someone who is still loyal to you and who knows these caves well.”

  Fljótdís downed the last of her soup. “Åge?”

  “Yes. I know his family. Good people. It was a great risk to talk to him, but he agreed to help us, to help you.”

  “But why? Why would he risk so much?”

  “There are many people outside who are still loyal to you. They know the truth and they are waiting for a chance to help rescue you. You are not abandoned no matter what you are accused of. Everyone in the town knows the truth. Very few believe Harald’s lies.”

  Fljótdís tried to process this information. She wanted to ask something, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear the answer. “Is Erik...”

  “He is safe and sound. Tomorrow he, Helgi, and Agnes and her sons will come after you.”

  Fljótdís’ mind instantly went to the logistics of what this might involve. “Assuming this can happen, how will we get out of the town unnoticed? I don’t want anyone to suffer because of me. Harald will hear of our actions.”

  The Queen stood up and smoothed her costly gown. “Harald will be busy suppressing a riot in the village.”

  “A riot?”

  “Many of those who are loyal to you have agreed to help us distract him.”

  “Do they know the King will slaughter them and their families if this scheme fails? I can’t ask this of them.”

  “They are people of the North, Fljótdís. Of course they know of the possible consequences and they will gladly give their lives to help you survive. You must accept their help. It’s your only chance. Sadly, I must leave you now.”

  Fljótdís felt the empty loss of her company already and she pulled the blanket higher around herself. “Of course, my Queen. Thank you for everything you are doing for me. And, please, see to your own protection. This is a very dangerous business.”

  Astrid gave her a sad smile and knocked at the door. “Sometimes the things that are of true value in this life come at a very high price. Sometimes that price is worth it.” The door opened and she was gone.

  The cell sank into cold silence again.

  Fljótdís let herself fall to her side. She couldn’t bear the strain on her muscles any longer. It ached less when she slept. Tears streamed down her face and she let herself cry. Tomorrow she might be free, reunited with Erik and those she loved, her loyal and trusted friends. The best they could hope for would be a life of running and hiding, but as long as Erik was near, nothing else mattered.

  But what if it all went wrong? What if Harald discovered their plans? What if Irena saw it all in advance again? What if everyone who came to save her, died? She could never live with that. If the plan failed, she would die protecting everyone she could, although she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to fight. Right now she felt crushed and deathly tired. She closed her eyes. It was her only defence against what tomorrow might bring.

  Chapter 23

  “Gods, this place is the City of Nidavelir,” Olaf muttered under his breath. “How can we find our way through this maze?”

  It was a true labyrinth of caves and passages. One wrong move and it would be very easy to get lost forever. But the man called Åge led them forward without hesitation.

  “I used to come here as a boy to get away from my father’s heavy fists.” Åge’s face was filled with memories in the torchlight. “I wandered from early morning to late evening. I was small and skinny then, so I was able to get in and out unnoticed. Only a few know about these passages and none of them are guards.”

  Erik had no patience for this man’s childhood. “How is Fljótdís?”

  Åge looked over his shoulder at Erik. “She is as good as she can be in this situation. But I don’t think she will be able to fight if we are attacked. So, you and she will have to continue moving, no matter what comes in our way.”

  Helgi gave Erik a nudge. “I agree with him. You must get Fljótdís to the boat as soon as possible. We will stay behind if needed.”

  Erik nodded. All the way he hadn’t said a word. He heard Olaf, Helgi and Åge talking, but he didn’t really care what they were on about. His every thought was on Fljótdís. He couldn’t eat or sleep, knowing that she was there in those dank dungeons alone and vulnerable. He knew she was strong. She was a survivor. And he kept faith that he would not find her damaged beyond repair.

  Olaf sensed his friend’s frame of mind. “All will be well, Erik. You’ll see. Tomorrow by this time you’ll be in an open ocean sailing toward a new beginning.”

  He gave Olaf a grateful look. “Thank you, my friend. You have always been like a brother to me.”

  Åge stopped in front of a low wooden door. It was well hidden in the thick stone wall. “We’re here,” he whispered. He put an old, rusty iron key into the lock and the door gave way.

  They waited while the voices in the distance grew silent and then entered the prison. It was empty. The King had called for everyone to join the fight against the unexpected riot in the town and most of the prison guards were outside fighting. Only a few had stayed behind, and when they reached the guard post, they saw that all these guards appeared to be sleeping. Queen Astrid sat on a table in the middle of them, swinging her legs in a carefree fashion.

  “What took you so long?” she asked as she jumped to the floor.

  Helgi looked at the men on the floor and gave the Queen a questioning look.

  She shrugged innocently. “Their mead was a bit stronger than usual. Hurry, now.”

  With light footsteps, she led them all to Fljótdís’ cell. Helgi gave Erik a look over how different Queen Astrid’s demeanour was now. She was strong, determined and fearless. If he didn’t adore his wife so much...

  Åge unlocked the heavy wooden door and they entered the cell. For a moment, it appeared that Fljótdís wasn’t there. Maybe it had all been a trick and the King had discovered their plan. But then in the corner under a blanket, something moved.

  Fljótdís opened her eyes, facing the very bright light. Maybe she was in Valhalla? Four shadows stood in this light and she blinked madly, trying to see their faces. Four men and one woman. But before she could realize who they were, one of them rushed to her and she immediately tried to protect herself.

  But she realized who it was as he helped to sit up. “Erik.” Gods, how she had missed those eyes of his!

  He pulled her into his arms, beyond words.

  His embrace was so warm and welcome, but it caused pain. She couldn’t hold back a moan. “Please...”

  Erik let her go as if he had been burned.
“I’m sorry.”

  She saw the anger start to burn in his eyes.

  “What has he done to you, Fljótdís? May the gods curse him!”

  She watched as Åge removed her chains. “I am alright, Erik.”

  “Alright? Look at you!”

  Fljótdís said nothing. She didn’t want to argue, not here and not with Erik. She let herself be helped to her feet. Her legs felt like they were made of wet clay and she wasn’t sure if she could leave the prison on her own feet. But she would try.

  Erik was about to take her into his arms, but something in her eyes made him think again. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  Fljótdís gave Helgi a tired smile. “I’m glad to see you again.”

  He smiled warmly, opening the door. “And I am glad to see you, dear.”

  She squeezed his hand and with Erik’s help, they went outside.

  The walk through the caves was slow and no one said a word. But with each step, Fljótdís felt her strength return. The pain stepped back, making her strong enough to remain on her feet. She released herself from Erik’s hold and gave him a reassuring smile.

  “Can I get a knife at least?” she asked, looking back at Helgi. “They took all my weapons.”

  Helgi withdrew his dagger and handed it to her. She wrapped her hand around the handle of the cold steel and it sent a pleasant shiver over her body. A weapon, now she was whole. It was like missing an arm or a leg, but as soon as the weapon was in her hand, the feeling of wholeness and strength returned.

  “We won’t need weapons,” Erik assured her, even as he put his hand on the head of his axe. “A boat is waiting for us at the riverside and it will take us to a ship anchored outside the mouth of the cliffs. We will go to Celtic lands, where one of my old friends lives. We will be safe.”

  Fljótdís saw complete belief in his eyes. Was her belief as strong as his? And was this really what she wanted? To run? To hide while the King still lived? No, she wanted revenge. She wanted his head. But in this situation it was impossible. She wasn’t able to stand alone against Harald’s army. Nor was she strong enough to defeat the King now.

  She almost fell over a loose stone, but Erik caught her just in time. She didn’t give space to the wave of pain the misstep caused.

  “Careful,” he cautioned.

  “I am careful.” She kept going, this time with Erik’s strong arm around her waist.

  When they reached the end of the passage, daylight blinded her for a moment. It was a grey day outside and because of the freshness in the air it was easy to tell that it had been raining. She looked up. It was so good to see the sky again.

  “Fljótdís! I’m so glad you are alive.”

  Agnes, Helgi’s wife, embraced her which caused pain.

  “Agnes, your affection will kill me.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Agnes stepped back and gave Fljótdís a motherly look, her eyes filled with concern. “We need to get you away from here.”

  Erik pointed at the boat tied at the shore. “Exactly my thought.”

  Fljótdís nodded at Agnes and Helgi’s sons. They were young and very strong men, twins. She had overseen their training personally and they were always ready to help.

  “It is good to see you alive, Commander,” one of them said with a smile. Fljótdís nodded her thanks but worried that all of this was taking valuable time.

  Erik felt the same. “We must move.”

  Fljótdís looked to the Queen.

  “Will you come with us, my lady? He will kill you if you stay here.”

  Astrid looked into Fljótdís’ eyes as if searching for her answer. Finally, she nodded.

  “No one is going anywhere!”

  Her heart froze. She gripped her dagger and watched as the King emerged from the shadows on horseback. His grin was demented.

  “Did you really think you could get away with this, Fljótdís? I didn’t even need your stepmother this time to figure out this treacherous little plot of yours. I have my eyes everywhere.”

  Without warning, Åge left their number and headed toward the King. Here was the traitor. All of this had been Harald’s plan from the very beginning. Åge did not reach his sovereign because one of the twins buried an axe deep into his back and he collapsed on the ground.

  The twin shrugged when his mother gave him a look of warning. “One bastard less.”

  Erik took a step forward. “You are only one, Harald. We are seven.”

  Harald smiled and patted his axe. “Let me point out the holes in your logic. One of your little army is my dear wife who is not even able to lift a weapon without falling apart into dust. And other is your beloved bride, Erik, who considering the condition she is in, cannot fight either, at least not for long.

  The other twin raised his axe, but Agnes put her hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

  The King leaned forward in his saddle and even from the other side of the little glade, the fire of madness burned in his eyes. “Yes, boy, listen to your mama. So, you are five now.”

  All this time Fljótdís had watched the trees behind Harald’s back. The King wasn’t alone. And even if the shadows were too deep to see rest of his men, she felt them. She knew they were there. It was all just another cruel game Harald was playing.

  The others emerged from the shadows, at least a dozen men on horses, maybe more. Fljótdís felt a dagger pressed into her other hand. She gave one of the twins a small, grateful smile.

  “What, not so brave now?” The King burst into laughter, but then, just as quickly, he grew serious. “I’ll offer you a deal. Give me Fljótdís and I will let the rest of you live.”

  It was clear that no one was going to accept Harald’s offer. Everyone who now closed around her was loyal to her till their last breath. But Fljótdís wasn’t sure. Maybe if she exchanged herself, Helgi and his family could walk away. And maybe Erik would survive.

  Agnes read her mind easily and whispered in her ear. “Don’t fool yourself, Fljótdís. He will kill us all anyway. There is no real bargain to be made here.”

  She knew Agnes was right. Harald was a man of revenge and madness. He would kill every one of them in front of her eyes. There was only one option left, to fight. She gripped her daggers tighter. Pain and weakness called out to her from every portion of her body, but now wasn’t the right time for such things. She had to fight and protect everyone she could.

  Harald shrugged. “As you wish. Kill them all. Except Fljótdís.”

  His men went on the attack with the sound of thundering hooves. Everyone was ready to fight. But no one saw what Fljótdís did. She knew this was going to be a losing battle. The others were on horses and they were too much for them to defeat. She didn’t doubt the commitment, strength or skill of her friends, but they were only five. She herself wasn’t going to be able to fight for long and Astrid wasn’t much of a fighter either, although she held a long dagger in her small hand and her face was as brave as that of a seasoned warrior.

  If these attackers were not on horses... Fljótdís couldn’t finish her thought as the men broke through their line. She grabbed both daggers in a deadly hold and ran by one of the horses, easily cutting animal’s throat. She hated it, hated killing horses and their dying neighs made her blood turn cold. But if it was the only way to defeat these men and save her own life and her friends’ lives, it had to be done. On horses these men were dangerous. Without them, they were just men.

  “The horses, kill the horses,” Fljótdís shouted to the others as she dragged a man off his dead horse and stabbed him without mercy.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the others fulfilling her order. She couldn’t see them all, couldn’t see if some of her protectors were dead already. Only a woman’s loud scream told her of a life just lost. It was one of Agnes’ twins. Fljótdís ducked down just in time to avoid a riding man’s sword and met Helgi’s wife’s eyes. There was sorrow in them, but she turned and struck one of Harald’s men off his hors
e. At the same moment, from the other side, a longsword pierced through her chest. This battle was useless. It was already lost.

  She heard Erik’s voice above the din. “Astrid, take Fljótdís and go to the boat. Move! Now!”

  Astrid grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the boat. Fljótdís could barely make herself walk anymore, overtaken by sudden numbness. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the time she spent in prison or because of the thought that Erik was about to die. Everyone was going to die because of her.

  They were at the boat. Astrid was already untying the rope, but Fljótdís couldn’t force herself to move. She saw the other twin collapse to the ground lifeless. Mother and sons were already dead. And Olaf. Only Erik and Helgi stood their ground. She couldn’t leave. She had to help them. She had to save them or die together with them.

  “Come on!” The Queen grabbed her sleeve, her eyes full of alarm. “Fljótdís, you cannot help them. Don’t let their deaths be for nothing. Save yourself. They fought for you.”

  Astrid was the voice of reason and a part of her knew the Queen was right and honest, but letting Erik die would be the death of her heart as well.

  “By all the gods, Fljótdís, go!” he cried, putting his axe into one of Harald’s men’s chest. “I’ll catch up to you.”

  Liar. He was lying to make her go. He wouldn’t catch up to her. But she had no choice as Astrid pulled her into the boat.

  She saw an arrow from nowhere catching Helgi’s leg. It didn’t shake him or distract him from the fight, but when he received the second one straight in the back, it stopped him for a second. He met Fljótdís’ eyes and gave her a smile. He was ready for Valhalla. Getting a second wind, he brandished his axe high above his head and jumped into a group of guards, cutting wherever he could and smashing skulls and bones with his shield until another arrow struck him in the chest. Even as he fell, his axe managed to take down another man.

  All Fjotdis could do was watch, watch as her dear friend lay lifeless on the ground with his eyes towards the sky, his shield in one hand, his axe in the other. It was an honourable death, the death of a warrior.