by Jianne Carlo
Brökk snorted. “My wee wife pretends modesty. She can carry a cow heavy with calf all day and not tire. Not days before she birthed Jorunn, my meek wife scaled the steepest, highest sheer cliff of Bita Veðr’s north border.”
“If you had allowed my feet to touch the earth, I may not have had such an excess of energy to burn off.” Skatha raised a challenging brow. “But we digress. How did Magnhildur paralyze Xára’s limbs?”
“I have heard of such a thing from Mús. The gods burn the bark of a tree and the smoke it produces paralyzes the limbs. Those who are affected look as if dead. ’Tis one of Loki’s favorite tortures.” Nyssa mused. “Mayhap ’tis why Mús sent me here. To heal Xára not Jennie.”
“Mús sent you here?” Brökk quirked a brow. “’Twasn’t in response to the message I sent?”
“We received no message,” Konáll replied. He explained how they had come to Lathairn, gave Nyssa a glare, and added, “I should tar her arse.”
“I have promised Skatha the same punishment. How think you she came to be with me? I would ne’er bring her or my son into harm.” Brökk crossed his arms and glowered at Skatha.
“’Twould seem the fates brought us all here. For what reason?” Nyssa asked.
Dráddør half-listened to their scattered conversation, too distracted by Xára’s continued lack of response to pay acute attention to aught but his unconscious wife. Her flesh had warmed a tad and she appeared to be breathing easier, but the vile black liquid still oozed as before.
“Dráddør, you must return to the hall, and play the host. Smile and offer welcome as you would to any other. Lull them into complacency and find their weakness,” Skatha declared.
“She has the right of it.” Nyssa agreed. “You cannot alarm them and you must keep a vigilant watch on them.”
“Egron is assigned that duty.” Dráddør glanced to the window. “’Tis well past dawn, but methinks Magnhildur is not one to awake early. And Godfraid will not have the stomach to break his fast until later.”
“Why are you so cert of Godfraid?” Konáll asked.
Dráddør grinned and related how Xára had given him the emetic via the smithy’s son, Ívarr.
“Still, ’tis not strategic to leave Godfraid alone in the hall. ’Tis your hall and you must be present. Set four guards to this chamber. We will all go with you. Skatha, Nyssa, you are to send for us if there is any change in Xára.” Brökk straightened from his position against the wall.
Xára shifted on the bed.
“She moved,” Dráddør said. “Did you see?”
“Aye. She did. So put your mind at rest and go with your brothers to the hall,” Nyssa ordered. “Xára will be fine. As will I and the babe, Konáll.”
’Twas with great reluctance that Dráddør complied. Only the notion of planning his vengeance prodded him into leaving Xára. Ghazi awaited him outside the room and he gave orders to have four men on guard at all times. He also doubled the number of men assigned to protect Evie and Lady Jennie.
Evie. He had forgotten the sprite.
“Did Evie come back to the hall before we left?” He asked Brökk.
“I did not notice. If she is at all like our Hjørdis, then she has probably become distracted in the kitchens. ’Tis best she remain ignorant of Xára’s injury until we know more.”
Dráddør scratched his unshaven jaw. “Aye, you have the right of it. Evie is not one to leave well enough alone.”
“Has Evie a playmate? If she is kept busy she will not get into trouble.” Konáll cracked a smile. “I well remember Hjørdis and her mischief.”
Dráddør turned to Ghazi. “Send someone to find Lady Evelyn and take her to her nurse. Order the nurse to keep Lady Evelyn occupied in her chamber until the noon meal. Then send a man to find the smithy’s son, Ívarr, and order him to Lady Evelyn’s room for the morn.”
Satisfied he had covered all points available to Evie for escape Dráddør took a step forward and halted. He spun back to Ghazi. “Have the oak branch that hangs near to Lady Evelyn’s room cut right after you finish with the smithy’s son.”
Brökk chuckled. “I take it Lady Evelyn is wont to weigh each word in an order and find a way around it?”
The three brothers marched to the stairs.
“She is worse than Hjørdis. Thank Odin, Skatha was there to catch her this morn. I am reluctant to leave Xára after what has happened, but ’twill drive me to drink to remain behind while you two chase after Niketas. Plan you to still leave on the noontide?”
“Niketas has had her for seven days. I must depart as planned, but ’twould ease my mind to leave Skatha and Jorunn in your care,” Brökk answered.
“’Twould also ease my mind to leave Nyssa in your hands,” Konáll added.
“I will think on it. Tighe would ne’er allow harm to come to any of them. I trust him with my life and theirs.” Dráddør was torn. One moment he resolved to leave with Brökk and Konáll, the next guilt attacked his decision.
“Know you the trader that Godfraid awaits?” Brökk asked as they took the stairs.
“Nay. But the villagers speak of many regular traders in this area. The quickest route to Connacht follows the coast of Caithness.” Dráddør swept a glance around the great hall. As he had commanded, Godfraid’s men were not allowed entrance to the inner bailey or the castle, except under direct guard. He glimpsed Ghazi escorting a warrior dressed in Godfraid’s colors to the kitchens.
Egron stood to the right of the dais. Every entrance to the hall was protected by at least two Vikings, even the nigh hidden door under the stairs.
“What of Godfraid’s men camped outside the castle walls?” Brökk paused when they reached the hall and signaled an elderly woman who sat at one of the benches.
“I had Haakon arrange to have food for them cooked on the other side of the river by the foot bridge. The main drawbridge is being lowered only when necessary. E’en then my men crowd the width when it is down.”
“Godfraid’s men will have to be quick to try and rush the entrance.” Konáll eyed a woman who waddled over to Brökk and curtsied.
“My lord, Lord Jorunn has had his bath and is ready for Lady Skatha.”
“My thanks, nurse. Take my son to my wife who is in the master’s chamber. Have you someone to spare to guide them there?” Brökk glanced at Dráddør.
“Aye. Haakon,” Dráddør raised his voice to get the notice of the steward who was busy supervising a gathering of maids and kitchen boys.
At once Haakon broke away and rushed to Dráddør’s side. “My lord.”
“Have someone escort this woman and my brother’s son to my chamber at once. Then organize for a tray of food and drink to be sent to there.”
“At once my lord.” Haakon licked his lips. “My lord, Earl Godfraid sends his regrets, but he received notice the trader he awaits will meet him at the king’s court. He left on the morn tide.”
* * *
Xára once again drifted ’tween dreaming and waking. ’Twas strange to hover above her own body and see the ominous blackness bubbling from her throat. She felt strangely disconnected as she had when Magnhildur and Néill had stolen into her room.
But that night, when she’d realized that her limbs wouldn’t obey a command, that she couldn’t even blink or open her mouth, hysteria had raged through her panicking mind. Whilst her body remained frozen, her thoughts had become fractured and frenzied.
It had all seemed to happen so slowly. Magnhildur circling her bed, taunting her, telling her they intended to sacrifice her and Evie, that the blood from the breeched maidenhead of two half-immortals would complete the circle, and she and Néill would have their immortality.
Never would she forget the menacing smile Magnhildur wore when the seidr slowly inserted the needle into her throat. She had prayed to her dead mother, begged her unknown father to rescue her, promised the lord to devote her life to him, all to no avail.
Then Jennie had burst into the room like an avenging ang
el. But ’twas the man with her who’d sent the evil witch and Néill fleeing. He had the wings of a seraph, high, arched and covered in silver feathers. He’d carried a glowing horn and when he blew into the translucent instrument, the walls vibrated, the bed she laid on rose, and Magnhildur and Néill were tossed high into the air.
“’Tis your father, Xára, Heimdallr, watchman of the gods. He heard your call.” Jennie, dearest Jennie, who had risked her life to save Xára.
Had it all happened?
Pain burst across her fingers and toes, and she twisted and moaned.
“Xára.”
She turned away from the hand patting her cheek.
“Open your eyes, Xára.”
The voice was familiar, a musical tinkle.
A baby gurgled.
“Here is Jorunn come to wake you.”
“Nay. Nay. Nay.”
Xára opened her eyes.
A cherub peered up at her. Huge blue eyes fringed by thick, dark lashes leaned close and inspected her. A chubby, sticky finger probed her mouth. “Nay. Nay. Nay.”
She smiled and nipped the tip of the babe’s finger.
He yelped, sat back, and promptly toppled over with a loud wail.
Automatically, Xára reached for the boy, and hauled him into her arms. He yowled.
“Shush, dearling,” she crooned and rocked him from side-to-side.
“Give him this.” She glanced up to find Skatha offering her a small, worn, horse fashioned out of yarn. “’Tis his lovey.”
Xára accepted the toy and shook it to get the babe’s attention.
He snatched the horse from her hand, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and crushed the toy to the side of his head. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked voraciously.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Nyssa lumber out of a chair. “How do you feel, Xára?”
I am well, she mouthed.
Nyssa and Skatha exchanged glances.
“Do you recall what happened in the hall?” Skatha asked.
Xára frowned. She remembered holding Jorunn in her arms.
Jorunn batted the horse against her arm.
She nuzzled his neck and closed her eyes at the sweetness of the scent of his nape.
“To me, Xára.” She glanced up to find Nyssa standing at her side. “Tilt your head back a wee bit. I want to check your injury.”
An image of Nyssa touching her throat reared. Then a vision of a man with wings surged. Had Magnhildur worked a spell on her?
“Let me see your scar, Xára,” Nyssa ordered.
For some reason she didn’t want to obey Nyssa, but could not find a good reason to refuse. She craned her neck.
“Why her scar is gone,” Skatha exclaimed. “’Tis as if it had ne’er been there. Is she cleansed of the poison, Nyssa?”
“Aye. Do you know what you just did, Xára?” Nyssa grinned. “You spoke. You said, shush dearling when Jorunn began to cry.”
Nay, she shook her head.
“Aye. Nyssa has the right of it. I heard you. Try it. Say something.” Skatha urged.
Had she spoken? Had the words not been in her mind? Xára cleared her throat and started at the sound. Her eyes widened. She did it again.
Jorunn grabbed a lock of her hair and yanked.
“Ouch,” she yelped. The babe was as strong as an ox. Her scalp prickled.
Skatha clapped. “You spoke. You did. Did you hear yourself? You said ouch. Say something else.”
Dared she? Aye. She did dare. “Dráddør.”
His name was nectar on her tongue. “Dráddør.”
Jorunn wriggled, twisted to his mother, and raised his arms. “Mama.”
Skatha’s jaw dropped. Her lips trembled. She looked first at Nyssa and then Xára. Her eyes shimmered with joyous tears. “He said Mama. Did he not?”
“Aye,” Xára replied. “I heard him.”
“So did I.” Nyssa reached down and pinched Jorunn’s cheeks. “What a clever boy, you are.”
Jorunn’s lower lip stuck out. “Mama.”
Skatha took the boy from Xára. She kissed his brow, each cheek, and then his nose. “My sweet boy. Say it again. Say Mama.”
“Nay. Nay. Nay,” the boy babbled and snuggled close, one dimpled hand clutching his horse, the other worked his thumb into his mouth.
“He is ready to go to sleep.” Skatha stood and walked back and forth rocking her son. “We must send a message to Dráddør at once. He will be so pleased, Xára. He was fraught with worry.”
Somehow Xára could not picture Dráddør fraught with worry. Her husband was more likely to be angry or amused, but worried? Nay.
She sat up and fingered the spot where the raised line of flesh used to be and found naught but smooth skin. “’Tis gone?”
“Aye. Not e’en the slightest scar. Dráddør told us what Magnhildur did to you. Tell me, do you recall any smoke or strange smell in your chamber before she and Néill entered?” Nyssa kneaded her back.
Xára tried to recall that fateful night, but though the events from the time Magnhildur and Néill entered her room were vivid, she couldn’t remember what had woken her in the first place.
“Nay.” The sound of her own voice startled her. Was it the same as before? “I recollect what happened after they came in, but not before.”
“Jorunn sleeps. I will call for his nurse and have him taken to our chamber. I will also tell one of the guards to alert Dráddør that you have awoken. But, I will say no more. You must surprise him, Xára.” Skatha winked. “Trust me, ’twill result in a swiving you will treasure.”
Heat scalded Xára’s face at Skatha’s casual use of the wicked word.
“Aye, ’twill if Dráddør is half as lusty as Konáll.” Nyssa waddled back to the chair. “I am famished. Will you send for a tray, Skatha?”
“Aye. My belly has been growling for some time. I will return anon.”
Xára hopped off the bed. “I will open the door for you.”
“Should she be walking around, Nyssa?” Skatha asked.
“Are you dizzy or faint, Xára?”
Xára shook her head and rolled her eyes when she caught herself. “Nay. ’Tis strange but I do not feel unwell.”
Grunting snores emanated from the sleeping babe. Xára could not prevent a smile. She whispered, “He snores like a full-grown man.”
“He bellows and yowls like a full-grown man, so ’tis only appropriate he snore that way, too,” Skatha whispered back.
Xára closed the door after Skatha stepped into the hallway. She strode back to the bed only to find Nyssa struggling to keep her eyes open.
“You are exhausted. Come, let me help you to the bed. That chair cannot be comfortable.” She helped Nyssa to stand and snagged her arm around the woman’s back. “Do you suffer any illness from healing me?”
“Nay. The poison left me almost immediately. But it took some time for you to expel it.” Nyssa heaved a loud sigh when Xára helped her climb onto the bed. She stretched out and rested her head on the pillows. “You must try to recall what happened that night. Methinks, ’tis the root of what will happen.”
Xára hesitated, but gritted her teeth, and told Nyssa of her strange dreams of that night.
Nyssa grinned. “I suspected as much. ’Tis not a dream, Xára. Methinks, it all happened. ’Twould explain much. Why Jennie sent you to the abbey. Did the abbess, Lady Gráinne, admit you to Circe Fearn?”
“I cannot remember. I had barely seen my tenth winter when I was sent there. Why?” Xára could not follow Nyssa’s rapid change of topic.
“Lady Gráinne is one of the guardians to half-immortal females. I am the daughter of the goddess Rán and the King of Rurari. Skatha is the daughter of Kenneth of Scotland and the goddess, Skaði. We were both entrusted into Lady Gráinne’s care. You are the daughter of Heimdallr, watchman of the gods. ’Tis the reason you were sent to Circe Fearn.”
Xára digested this information for a few moments. “I believed ’twas on Arnfinn’s orders
, but mayhap Jennie was behind it after all.”
“2Tis strange you call your mother by name. But you have been long gone from her.”
Seeking to distract Nyssa, Xára blurted, “Aye. Methinks she sought to ease my loneliness when I first went to Touft as Ulna was there when I arrived. ’Twas when we developed our hand signals as the nuns there all had taken vows of silence. But, Jen—Mama sent for Ulna after the first winter. She had taken ill and needed Ulna to care for Evie who had not e’en seen two summers.”
“’Twas how you were able to communicate with Evie after Magnhildur took your voice. In truth, all seems to have happened to a plan. It makes me wonder why we are all here at this same time. I have long suspected my goddess mother watches o’er me and ’twould seem ’tis the same for Skatha. Mayhap Heimdallr’s hand is behind all of this.” Nyssa winced and held her side.
“Are you in pain?” Xára asked.
“Nay. The babe kicks. Here. Feel.” She caught Xára’s hand and held it to her belly.
Xára flinched when the babe jerked against her palm. “How does it feel?”
Nyssa laughed. “Like I am trying to contain a bucking stallion.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“I pray that is food for I am wont to chew my slippers at this point,” Nyssa declared.
Xára hurried to the open the door. She gasped when her gaze met Dráddør’s.
“Why are you walking about?” He scooped her off her feet. “Show me your throat.”
She craned her neck.
He stared at her throat and then met her gaze. “’Tis gone. Are you well?”
Xára smiled. She said, “Dráddør.”
Chapter Eleven
“Say it again.” Dráddør demanded. He could not tear his gaze away from Xára’s lips as she once again said his name.
“Are you well?” He inspected her features. Her cheeks had pinkened and her turquoise eyes gleamed when she smiled at him.
“’Tis strange to hear my voice. It echoes in my head.” She ducked her chin and then whispered, “I still have the use of my legs.”