“My heart will break, yes, and my body will, too, if I fall off your back because I have no straps on,” Dyrfinna said.
One of the soldiers overheard. “I have a piece of soft leather that might serve. We can tie it around the dragon’s girth and you could have at least something to hold on to.”
Dyrfinna looked at the emberdragon. “Would this be acceptable?”
After a moment the dragon sighed, Yes. Yes, I suppose it would be.
So the leather was procured and Dyrfinna tied it around the dragon’s girth.
This done, Dyrfinna climbed aboard the emberdragon. “Ulf, lead our forces up the mountain, following the path that Nauma’s army made. The emberdragon and I will scout and make sure your way is safe … and we will defend you if the way should become unsafe.”
“We will stay alert on the ground as well. Forward!” called Ulf.
Dyrfinna’s army moved up the foot of the mountain.
“Are you ready to fly?” Dyrfinna said to the emberdragon. “Not too high… I don’t want to pop up like a cork and attract Nauma’s attention. So keep it low.”
I’ll do my best to keep this mission as quiet as possible, the emberdragon said.
“All the same, I’m sure she’s watching this mountain like a hawk,” Dyrfinna muttered, looking off in the direction of the battle-plains somewhere off to the east, half-expecting to see the distant shadows of undead dragons in the hazy horizon. Everything was still clear now. But for how long?
“Up!” Dyrfinna called.
The emberdragon lifted off with a glorious rush of her wings and the eyes of most of her army were on them as they rose up. Some of her soldiers had their mouths open in astonishment. Dyrfinna’s heart leapt. The emberdragon glowed a brilliant orange, just like an ember in the flames, when the winds of her own making rushed over her scales and they glowed. Orange-red sparks fell from them.
I could pop you to the top of the sky, like a cork, the dragon said.
“I don’t know what earthly purpose that would serve besides showing off.”
Flaunt it if you’ve got it, the dragon said.
“I’m just here for reconnaissance,” Dyrfinna said, looking around her for any signs of Nauma as the world opened up around her. “Not to wave a big orange flag that says ‘Come and get me.’”
She looked at the land below her for places her army could form up if they were ambushed along the way. Dyrfinna really did love being on dragonback for this purpose. The lay of the land was so clear from this vantage, and it was so easy to see the best places where an army could defend itself, or attack, or see if anybody was lying in wait for them.
“Keep your eyes open for any other signs of life, whether on the ground or in the air,” she told the emberdragon. “Right now I fear an ambush, because I don’t know if Nauma has left an attack force on this mountain. Or, worse, I’m afraid she might spot us and fly in.”
I didn’t see any sign of any forces on this mountain when I was flying in, the emberdragon said. Nauma was still back on the battle plains trying to bring her new army in. I don’t know if she was trying to organize them or consolidate them. That was the impression I got from high in the sky as I flew past.
“And you didn’t see anything on this mountain?” Dyrfinna asked.
There’s a strange light at the top of the mountain I’d never seen before, but I still can’t make out what it is.
“I want to see what it is. But,” Dyrfinna quickly added, “right now it would be best if we stayed with my army to protect them. We’ll see what this thing is soon enough, and whether it poses a danger to us.”
Most of the day passed without incident as Dyrfinna’s army climbed the mountain. Dyrfinna and the emberdragon circled low over the rocky land overhead, always keeping an eye on the mountain ahead for danger, and then peering out over the mountains to the horizon, watching for any oncoming danger. But there was nothing.
“I am told that the dragons are going to gather and parley,” Dyrfinna said.
Yes, said the dragon. I have been invited, and representatives from every dragon tribe will be joining us. We will all share what we know, and together we will find all the ways possible to fight what is being done.
“I’ve been invited, as a human representative.” Dyrfinna leaned forward, the wind blowing through her hair, her hands on the dragon’s neck, thinking about these words. A human representative to a council of dragons. She felt half-giddy and half frightened at the very idea. She’d been chosen. But what on earth was she going to do there?
The army stopped before the sun went down, and they lit their cook fires and cooked what rabbits they’d found along the way, or fried a little bread in bacon fat, or cooked some tubers or porridge. They were only halfway up the mountain, and they still had a long walk ahead for tomorrow.
The emberdragon flew off to find a little food on her own.
Dyrfinna chewed more willow bark for her headache, the astringent green taste nearly turning her mouth into a permanent pucker, and slumped down by a cook fire next to Ragnarok.
“Well, hello there, wolf-snuffer,” he said to her, his eyes wandering off as they did.
Dyrfinna smiled. “I’d forgotten how you’d called me that,” she said. The wounds on her shoulder from the wolf attack had all healed, and the stitches had come out some time ago, only to be replaced by new wounds in different places.
Time marches on, she thought, looking back at her younger self with affection. She’d been ready to rush out and conquer the world, back in those days. But now… she shook her head ruefully and got a piece of panbread from the cook at the fire. “Ragnarok, would you like to share some panbread with me?”
“I’ve already eaten,” he said. “You go ahead.”
“I’ll keep you company for a little while,” she said, sitting next to him, which was something like sitting next to a mountain, for he was a large man. He had traded swords back with her when they found each other on the ship.
Dyrfinna sat and talked with Ragnarok and the others around the fire until she began falling asleep, whereupon she went out and found a quiet place to sleep near the emberdragon. She was tucked in, as much as a creature the size of a shed could be tucked in, next to the rocks. As she slept, her flaming orange brilliance had died down to a dark orange-black with no light from it. The emberdragon lay on the ground with her head on the ground and her wings tucked in around her, and she radiated warmth like a cook fire gone to embers.
Dyrfinna looked at the star-emblazoned sky in the silence of the night. Only the call of an owl, the rush of the ocean far below them broke the quiet.
“Skuld,” Dyrfinna said, “Goddess, guide us to do what is right, and protect us in battle.”
Then Dyrfinna unrolled her woolen blanket, wrapped herself in it, and was out in a moment.
12
A Frozen Lake
No alarms were raised during the night. Dyrfinna kept waking up, afraid that something might have happened, but the darkness passed uneventfully.
The next morning, bright and early, the army was once again climbing toward the top. Dyrfinna was back on the emberdragon, flying over their heads, keeping watch for Nauma. By now, at least, they were on the south face of the mountain, which kept them out of sight of the battlefield that Nauma’s undead had overrun. This side of the mountain also gave them more cover, as the army passed between large piles of boulders, stacked as if a giant had left them there and not some glacier from olden days.
Seeing nothing on the horizon, Dyrfinna and the emberdragon decided to take the risk and fly ahead of the group a little. As they flew toward the top of the mountain, only snow and ice and rock met their eyes. That, and an odd glow, now brighter, from the top of the mountain, still out of view. But now Dyrfinna could smell what the dragon’s nose had been picking up for a while. To her amazement, she recognized the scent.
“Roses?” she burst out. “The smell. It’s roses.”
The dragon stared back. How can tha
t be? she said. There’s only ice and snow up there.
“It must be the enchantment that the goddess Skuld was speaking of.” She circled back and returned to her army, still unable to shake the fear that they might be ambushed.
As they grew closer to the top, the tracks of Nauma’s armies became harder to follow. New snow had fallen, and the wind had scoured the mountaintop.
“Don’t worry. We can still track them through the snow,” one of the archers said, walking ahead of the rest of the group. “We’re professional trackers. Don’t be afraid. You won’t lose the trail.”
And they got higher and higher, and the air got thinner. “We’re very close now,” Dyrfinna said. “Let’s see what’s at the top, shall we?”
Hold on, the dragon said. With great wing beats they rose up past the snow and the rocks that lay ahead. The rocky land at the summit opened in front of them to reveal …
Dyrfinna’s jaw dropped.
“How is that even up here?” she cried.
Among the snow and rocks of the barren mountaintop – here, where no green thing could grow – stood a rosebush the size of a great house.
The emberdragon landed before it. In all of my years, I have never seen anything like this, she said.
The rose’s shiny green leaves shed the light snow that sifted down from the low clouds. The enormous shrub was covered with red roses with white struck through its petals. Each rose blossom had a flame dancing upon it, filling the air with its sweetness.
“The enchantment,” Dyrfinna whispered.
She longed with all her heart to go to this rosebush, but she wouldn’t do it without the rest of her army. “Dragon, let’s land here and wait for everyone to join us.”
Not here, the dragon said in a hushed voice as she leapt into the air and flew past the roses. Look. This is holy ground. I tremble to be here without my sisters and brothers.
She flew down a little way, and behind the gigantic rosebush, a great stone archway was revealed.
And frozen along the whole entrance to the stone archway was an enormous lake … of dark-red ice.
Great Eldr! Goddess of wings and fire! the emberdragon cried, spitting fire. What has happened? What have they done!
The emberdragon landed, swiftly winging to the ground directly before the red, frozen lake, hissing in fury.
“That’s frozen blood,” Dyrfinna said in disbelief, sliding off the dragon, unable to tear her eyes away from the awful sight. “That’s all blood.”
The blood remained – but not a single body.
A desecration! Our holiest of sites has been desecrated. The emberdragon swung her head, her tail lashing. I want to tear this person from limb to limb. There will be no mercy for such a one as this. None from me or from my dear friends, or the great souls that have gone ahead before us.
“May the gods hear your prayer and answer it,” Dyrfinna said, still staring. Then she shook herself. What had happened here?
Dyrfinna’s army drew close. The first of the group came into view below, clambering over the rocks. It was foggy at the top of the mountain, as if a cloud had wandered in from the sky all around.
The fighters came into view on the other side of the roses, all of them falling silent when they saw the gigantic green, flaming rosebush at the top of the mountain surrounded by nothing but snow and rocks.
“I don’t know who this gardener is,” somebody muttered, “but I need her to fix my garden at home.”
Dyrfinna walked around the rosebush to join her people as the rest of the army caught up to her, many out of breath from their final ascent. She came forward, gazing at the flowers. The warmth from the roses’ flames was quite welcome, and a shaft of sunlight lit the rosebush up.
“There you are,” Ulf said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “We thought for a moment that we’d lost you.”
“The emberdragon is on the other side of the roses,” Dyrfinna said, not ready to discuss what lay there.
“Is this simply a huge rosebush?” Ulf said. “Or is there something inside?”
Dyrfinna hesitated. She wondered if there might somehow be someone undead inside. What if this was some kind of trap that Nauma had left to snare her?
She and Ulf stepped up to the roses. Taking care not to touch the wicked-looking thorns, she peered through a gap in the branches.
Inside the rose bramble lay people, barely glimpsed through the leaves.
“Who is it in there?” Ulf asked, squinting.
But then they both looked at each other, eyes wide.
“That’s Gefjun in the middle,” said Dyrfinna. “And King Varinn is at her side.” She could see Gefjun’s bright red hair and Varinn in his black robes.
Ulf squinted through the leaves. “Is that a puffin on the good king’s chest?”
Dyrfinna placed her hand on a rose cane as thick as her arm.
And the leaves whispered.
She sprang back, drawing her sword in the same instant. If this was a trap that Nauma had set for her ….
The branches parted before Dyrfinna with a soft rush of leaves. The great rose canes, as thick as her arm, became pliable and bent aside as if they were willow twigs. Fog arose when the warm air from inside the roses met the cold air of the outside.
Open the door, something whispered.
And Dyrfinna stood before the opening, gazing into the heart of light, the silence.
She swallowed and looked at Ulf. “Shall I go in?” she asked, feeling the trembling at the edge of her voice.
“Yes.” cried Ulf. His sword was out as he looked inside over her shoulder. “It’s our people in there and they’re all sleeping.”
“Everybody looks unharmed. Thank goodness,” Dyrfinna said.
A flurry of whispers rose from their fighters behind them. They crowded around to see if they could spot their friends through the thick leaves of the roses.
“Soldiers, keep a watch,” Dyrfinna told them. “Shout if you see anything approaching, anything at all. We’ll try to figure out what is happening here.”
Dyrfinna hesitated before she entered, wondering if somehow Nauma would know if she walked in. It was possible that she might have hooked some spell up to the roses or to the area around it to let her know if people moved without.
If that were the case, then it was possible that Nauma was already on her way.
Dyrfinna walked in through the canes into a fragrant green world. The air was green and humid inside the rosebush. Soft grass and flowers grew under her feet, and sleeping warriors lay on the grass in the warm sunlight. Some slept with an arm thrown over their eyes, some were curled in a ball like cats, some sprawled on their bellies. Somebody was snoring, but it didn’t disturb anybody.
The soft flames flickering on the roses inside the bush warmed the air and filled it with fragrance. Dyrfinna breathed in that rich, spicy scent. At once weariness came over her. She wanted desperately to lie down on that soft grass and close her eyes and rest.
“No. No, there’s no time for that,” she found herself saying, shaking her head to stave off the sleepiness. “Wake up, wake up.”
For on the ground all around her were her old shipmates from Skeggi’s ship. Oh, how happy Skeggi would be if she brought them back. At once she called, “Wake up, wake up. We need to get out of here.”
The sleepers began to stir. Dyrfinna reached down, crouched, and shook someone’s shoulder, and then someone else’s. “Come on. We need to go.” She yawned, growing more and more drowsy. How wonderful it would be to sleep!
They were so slow to wake. But at least they were stirring. Ulf was behind her, leaning in through the arch of leaves and blossoms, his face all amazement. “The ground is clovered. It grows thick with grass and flowers,” he reported to the fighters outside. “And it feels so warm in here.” He yawned. “Oh man, a nap sounds so good right now.”
“Don’t come in unless you’re prepared to stay awake.” Dyrfinna was staggering with sleepiness, despite her best efforts.
<
br /> In the center of the rosebush were Gefjun and King Varinn, lying side by side in a patch of light all their own. They were safe and sleeping. Relief rushed over Dyrfinna, making her legs weak, but she walked to them. Thank Frejya. Thank the gods.
Varinn, a large, imposing Moorish king, had a little puffin sleeping on his chest. Dyrfinna smiled to see them. Then she looked back to Gefjun sleeping so peacefully. Her smile faded. She did not want to be the first person that Gefjun saw when she woke up. Oh, hi Gefjun. I’m waking you up even though I killed your boyfriend. Hope you weren’t dreaming sweet dreams of him….
Dyrfinna turned her attention to King Varinn instead. “Your majesty, sir.”
His dark brown eyes fluttered open. The puffin stirred and then sank back down to sleep.
“Good morning,” he rumbled. “I … assume it’s morning,” he said, looking up at Dyrfinna.
“It’s not yet lunchtime. I’m waking you sleepers up,” she said. “Quickly. I’m trying to get you out of here just in case Nauma finds out you’re awake and comes back. Nice puffin, by the way.”
Varinn frowned majestically at the puffin on his chest.
The puffin raised its head and yawned mightily at Varinn with its big orange bill. Then it started preening.
“Tell this puffin to get off my chest,” he grumbled at the little bird.
“Hop down, little guy,” Dyrfinna said, shooing the puffin. “Go wake up Gefjun for me. Hurry.”
The puffin got up and slowly stretched one foot behind him, then the other.
“You damn bird,” King Varinn grumbled. “You’re as bad as a cat.” He raised his hand and started patting the bird on its head. “Heh heh heh heh heh, I’m a puffin.”
This seemed to annoy the bird, so it hopped down and waddled over to Gefjun. The puffin began nibbling on her hair and drawing its bill through it as if preening it. Gefjun grumbled something and began to stir.
Dyrfinna let her breath out. At least she didn’t have to wake Gefjun up.
“So you’re saying that Nauma is outside?” King Varinn sat up and vigorously rubbed his face as if trying to wake up.
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