“Before any talk, a toast!” I stood, knocking a cup over intentionally. Mead spilled across the table. The human emissaries frowned as one and servants rushed to clean up. I made a mental note to apologize for being such an ass later.
I took my cup and held it out to be filled. A girl, who looked like she was barely holding back her disgust with my behavior, filled it. I gave my performance a little more, staggering back before lifting my cup into the air.
“To humans eating with wolves, and to peasants dining with kings. May our friendship be strong and true!”
“That…” Visrit looked like he was about to say something but Dak’Harat put a hand on his shoulder.
“To our empires.”
“Indeed!” I shouted and drank, or rather, held the cup to my lips, took a sip and mimed drinking deep, “I have to drain the serpent,” I gave a wink to Bo’Helmhen, “it won’t take long, though it is a bit like battling the midgard serpent - it is such-”
“Just go, Hafporir,” Varghoss had his hand over his eyes.
I left the room and wandered to the outdoor privies in their courtyard. I dumped the mead on the ground and waited. I had surely convinced everyone of my stupidity, so what was next?
“Next, I have to get one of them to talk…” I leaned against the stone of the castle wall, letting the cold seep in. If I was already sober, it sobered me more. And to get one of them to talk, I have to get one of them alone.
Of the three, I would have to watch, to see which one held his eyes on me the longest, and then I would make my move. I would get one alone, just long enough to get information he would not say in front of his companions, and then I would remove myself before the situation became too close. I just wished I could tell Draugr my plan, but there was no way, and if what I suspected was true, Yor, their leader, had his eyes on my kingdom, my people, and my head. Time was of the essence.
I returned to the table, letting my body fall into a semi-drunken swagger as I made my way into the Great Hall.
“So tell us, why do you come, where do you come from, and what can we do for you?”
“Those are a lot of questions,” Dak’Harat cut his meat with a small, wicked looking knife he produced from his sleeve. I tried to ignore the way his greasy hair fell onto his food.
Ulfvaldr looked gray. He had not touched his food. Next to him, Varghoss picked at a piece of bread and avoided my gaze.
Visrit held out his cup for more mead. The drink was making his wide, sunken eyes red. Bo’Helmhen held out his cup as well, and when a young man servant came to fill it, he gave his buttocks a loud slap. The servant did not say anything, but his eyes shot daggers at the guests. I looked to Bo’Helmhen.
“Well? To what do we owe the honor, and what, I wonder, has made us so lucky as to have a handsome man like you find his way into our castle?”
That got his attention. Bo’Helmhen’s eyes were on me, then, and it looked like he was considering a thought he hadn’t before. I could feel Draugr tensing next to me, and then I felt a finger on my thigh. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He gave an oh so subtle shake of his head, telling me no. I ignored him. I had Bo’Helmhen, and I intended to get the full story.
“Our Emperor Yor would have permission to take his army through your lands, from north to south, where he intends to conquer,” Visrit spoke at last.
“And he intends to engage in battle with the kingdom of man to the south of us?” Ulfvaldr wrinkled his brow.
“You have no allyship with them, do you?” Visrit asked.
“We have no communication with them,” Ulfvaldr said, “They keep to themselves and we to ours.”
“But that does not mean we wish war upon them,” said Varghoss.
“So you do not want to let us pass? We can go around and achieve the same result, but it will take us much longer, and Yor is not a patient leader,” Dak’Harat’s voice was a threat.
Gilda got up from the table. All eyes went to her. She stalked to the wall behind our fathers and leaned, pretending to be only restless, sipping her mead, but anyone who knew her could see her fingers on her bow. She was ready to defend the kings, and that meant she sensed imminent danger.
“And how large is this army?” Ulfvaldr’s knuckles were white. His hand looked like it might snap the stem of his goblet.
“Fifty thousand strong,” Visrit seemed to enjoy the effect that had on the room. All were quiet. It seemed that for a moment, almost no one breathed.
“Surely you see our position,” Varghoss held his hands out, entreating, “Our kingdoms have no relationship, no contact for as long as anyone here can remember, and now, you want to march across our lands - and I assume you mean to cross in the spring, the hungriest time for our people. Our winter stores grow low, the crops are not yet begun, and an army crossing the land will eat the game and wild foods that our people, our human and wolf subjects alike, gather to survive. Wouldst Yor perhaps consider a visit to our castle, so we could meet him? Then, should we decide to grant passage, summer would be a much more opportune season.”
“Yor will strike the kingdom of the southern humans before the last frost melts. If you do not comply, our armies will come through by force.”
“So what is the choice you present us with then? Allow you to ravage and trample our lands or else you will still trample them?”
“You can allow us through, or we will take your kingdom as we will the kingdom of the southern humans,” Bo’Helmhen said with relish around a boar’s foot he was chewing on.
“And what prevents you from taking our kingdom? It stands between you and the humans you mean to conquer,” Draugr asked.
I looked at Draugr, the fear that was evident in his eyes and nowhere else on his composed face, and in that moment, I realized I had completely dropped my act.
“Yor knows that your kingdom is ancient, and that with the reinstatement of Varghoss as king, that your line is ancient and unbroken, even if it is a mixed line.”
“Funny you should talk - human. Yor is a wolf, then? I’d like to meet him. Is he handsome?” I leaned my face on my hand and twirled my cup as though all the talk of conquering my home bored me.
“Yor is magnificent,” Bo’Helmhen said, “but he will not lower himself to leaving his kingdom for a bunch of half-wolves. He is pure and he is strong and the earth cracks and freezes beneath his feet.”
“Oh...well, I’ll have to find a different suitor then. But look, friends,” I spread my hands out, “we do not need to reach a decision tonight. Let us feast and digest your words along with this delicious food. And we can talk again on the morrow.”
“I did not think that I would say this tonight, but Prince Hafporir speaks the truth. It is obvious that this conversation is going nowhere but toward conflict,” Visrit raised his cup and turned to me, “to the wisdom of fools.”
“I feel as though I am being insulted,” I said to Draugr in a loud whisper as I raised my glass.
We toasted. My sisters glared at the humans, the servants glowered at me, as did my fathers, and Draugr kept his eyes down. The human emissaries looked more and more pleased that they had sown such discord, and I pushed the churning in my stomach that I felt down deep and batted my eyelashes at Bo’Helmhen.
Chapter 15
Draugr
The night finally wore to a close. As the humans took their leave, Varghoss pulled me into a tight circle with him and Ulfvaldr.
“We need a plan, and we need one now.”
“To deal with Yor or to deal with our awful son?” Ulfvaldr sighed.
“He is not so,” I put my hands on their shoulders and looked about the room, “he means to fool the humans into thinking he is no threat. Hafporir has grown and changed more than I can take credit for. He has truly chosen to undertake his learning himself. He nearly surpasses me in his sorcery.”
“And can he disappear?” Ulfvaldr countered. I could tell he did not really believe me.
“What do you mean?”
/> “My son is gone. Perhaps with that Bo’Helmhen he was so fond of.”
My heart iced over with dread. I looked around the room. He was indeed gone. His sisters were helping the servants to clean the room, staying close to their fathers without prying, but he, and those humans, were nowhere to be seen.
“I must go.”
Ulfvaldr shook his head. I turned back to him.
“Of course my king.”
“Draugr,” Varghoss rubbed his eyes, “We must know what the ancestral spirits make of this. Can you tell us?”
“I will need a room where I can be alone for the ritual...and even then, they do not always speak.”
“Just try,” Ulfvaldr said.
I bowed and took my leave. Out in the hall, things were quiet. I sniffed the air. There it was, the faintest whiff of Hafporir. I sped up my pace. If he had allowed himself to be taken somewhere by any of those deplorable creatures... He can take care of himself. I tried to tell myself that, but something did not feel right. Why would humans turn so readily against their own? Why would they act on behalf of a king who considered them inferior, cattle to be branded? It did not make sense and no matter which way I tried to add up the motivations of these emissaries in my mind, their words rang with lies and danger.
I ascended a stairway, Hafporir’s scent growing stronger all the while. I turned right, then left, and made my way toward him. His scent was stronger now. He had been here more recently. It was tinged with something, anxiety. I did not like it.
Then, something struck me. I had not smelled the humans once. They had no scent. Sure, they smelled of mead or meat while we were at table, but they had no scent. They lacked the individual mark that was different for every living being. I broke into a run.
“Hafporir!” I called, hoping he would answer, needing him to answer.
He didn’t.
I ran after his scent. I scrambled up another flight of stairs and came to a door. It was ajar. I flung it open to be met by a tower stair. His scent was strong here. I ran through.
“Hafporir!” My voice echoed up through the tower. There was no answer. My chest felt like a vice closing in around my lungs. I could barely breathe.
I ran. At the top of the tower, there was another door. I pulled on the handle. It was locked.
“Get off of me!” Hafporir’s voice sounded from behind the door.
“No!”
I slammed my body into the door. It splintered. I rammed in again with all my strength. It cracked.
“Draugr!” Hafporir’s voice came again, strained.
I backed up and ran. My shoulder hit the door with all my strength. The wood broke apart. In the center of the room, Bo’Helmhen towered over Hafporir. Relief flooded to me to see that Hafporir’s clothes were torn, but still on him. Bo’Helmhen’s spun around.
“Your pupil is a tease. Leave us or face the wrath of Yor.”
“I doubt Yor cares for you or for your dick. Leave.”
“I will save you the wrath of your king. There will be war whether or not you strike me. I will go to my room tonight, and when we leave on the morrow, know that we will return with an army greater than any you have ever seen.”
“I thought we were talking about that again tomorrow.”
“My reluctant prince,” Bo’Helmhen sneered, “you have destroyed my desire to talk just as you destroyed my desire for your flimsy body. Good night, teacher.”
He laughed his way out of the tower and continued to laugh to himself down the stairwell.
I went to Hafporir’s side. He was panting against the wall. He put his hand on the sill to pull himself up. The tower was filled with dust. A lone torch burned in a sconce casting his face into shadow. His lip was bleeding. I reached out to touch his face, but he pulled back.
“Do you need some air?” I stood up and opened the shutters on the tower’s only window.
I could not look at him. Instead, I looked out at the great expanse. Hafporir’s kingdom stretched forward as far as the eye could see. The window we looked from was in the north tower of the castle. In the distance, there were mountains, and beyond those, his kingdom ended and Yor’s began. It chilled me to think of what went on unseen beyond those peaks. Lightning crackled from dark clouds that wound their way through the sky. Spring was coming to our kingdom, but up north, it was still cold, cold, cold.
“Draugr,” his voice interrupted my thoughts.
I knelt before Hafporir again. This time, he did not pull away when I helped to wipe away the blood on his chin.
“Yes, my prince?”
“He was so strong.”
“There is something wrong with these humans, Hafporir.”
“They’re unnatural,” he took my hand in his, “Draugr, we must have a plan. He means to bring war upon us, no matter what we do. He offered to spare me if I lay with him…”
“It did not look like he was asking.”
Hafporir’s face fell. His countenance sank. I knelt before him. I longed to hold his hand, but refrained. He would have to stand on his own, at a time like this, more than ever, I could not cloud his judgment with thoughts of love, and I cannot let him fall in love with one who must give his life for his or his fathers if necessary. He looked into my eyes. When had the blue hardened into a fierce crystal? When had he grown such cold fire in him? He nodded, perhaps to me, perhaps to himself.
“We must prepare for war.”
Chapter 16
Hafporir
The army was sighted, just before dawn, on our seventh day of preparation. Or rather, it was the smoke that my sister saw.
“Brother,” Gilda called down to me from her perch on our northern wall. I was drilling the human villagers on work with spears. Grenda came to her side and looked in the same direction.
“Gods, they did not lie.”
“Keep drilling them. You have it right,” I handed my spear to a villager who had taken to it exceptionally well and ran up the steps to join Grenda and Gilda at the top of the wall.
It was almost indiscernible, but in the haze of the morning sun, creeping late over the horizon as it still did in early spring, illuminated smoke that stretched as far as the eye could see in a band that ran east to west. There was no telling how far north the smoke went. I wrapped my cloak around me. Suddenly, it felt so cold.
“Are they burning the forest?”
“No,” Grenda said, “likely, they all just received the order to put out their cook fires and march.”
“There must be so many. Those humans told no lies.”
I nodded. My stomach was in my throat. After I had refused Bo’Helmhen, the humans had left the castle in a rush and on horseback. My fathers had shaken their heads at me until I told them what I had learned. If we had not known, if we had only suspected, would we be as ready as we are now?
We had called the villagers and all of their stores in, and prepared the castle for a siege. There was no way to meet them on the open ground, not if they truly had an army of that size. We could no doubt hold out for some time, and my feint at frivolity had given us the ability to save lives, for now. The question remained, how would we end this conflict on our terms?
“Grenda, Gilda, find someone else to watch the wall, then get Draugr and meet us in the war room with our fathers.”
“Yes,” Gilda smiled at me, and Grenda patted me on the shoulder, “You have become a fine prince,” they said.
“Thank you,” I took one last look at the smoke, encroaching on our domain, and made my way to the war room.
The war room had once been a favorite meeting place of Varghoss’s stepfather, or the false king, as many of our subjects who were old enough to remember those days called him. I found my fathers there, deep in discussion. They had a sheepskin map of the castle spread out on the broad wooden table before them. A familiar bitter smell wafted into the room. Draugr entered with a steaming pot of what could only be nettle tea. He poured cups for Varghoss and Ulfvaldr who I was surprised to see sip it gr
atefully. Grenda wrinkled her nose and waved it away while Gilda took a cup, sniffed it, and set it down without drinking. Draugr handed me a wooden cup of the stuff. It made me miss his hut in the forest, before this news, before an army was at our doorstep. I longed even to go back to that miserable time, when I had just arrived, and he had been so stern and I so stupid. Even that was better than what lay before us.
Varghoss finished up a whisper and turned to the rest of us. We sat across the table from our kings.
“Draugr, what have the spirits told you?”
His shoulders slumped and he shook his head, “they say nothing. I fear-”
“That the gods are on their side?” Gilda looked aghast.
“Impossible,” Grenda frowned, “those humans were so utterly disgusting. They weren’t even…”
“They weren’t truly human anymore. Perhaps that is what the gods desire.”
Draugr shook his head, “I think that I may be able to divine some answers, but I will need help,” he looked to me, and then to the she-wolves, “these two are preternaturally in tune with the world of the spirits. With your permission, I would begin this meeting with teaching them seidr.”
Ulfvaldr furrowed his brow and looked to Varghoss. Varghoss ran his hand through his silvery beard and looked to my sisters.
“Will you do us the favor of assisting Draugr?”
They nodded. Draugr pulled a cloth bag from the depths of his shirt. For a moment, I allowed myself to reflect on how regal he looked in true clothes, and that led me to the memory of his shirtless chest, and how his tattoos rippled over his muscled flesh like waves on top of water. For the first time in a half a fortnight, I felt the heat of desire creeping up my neck. I tried to shake it, but it was as though the impending danger only fanned the flames.
Claw and Crown Bundle Page 19