Jorg walked with Plintze at his side, flipped the man over, and put a foot on his chest. With her mind and body too numb from everything that had just taken place, Ingrid only watched from her spot next to the woman’s body.
“Who are you?” Jorg’s calm, even-toned voice brooked no argument.
The man coughed and glared at him, slicing a glance toward Plintze, who growled at him. A trickle of blood leaked from the side of the man’s mouth, and a dark stain on his side indicated a more threatening wound. With a hard swallow, the man closed his mouth tight and set his jaw in a show of stubbornness.
“Your leader is dead, and you’ll join him now if you have no other information for me,” Jorg said firmly.
“Kill me. It’s all your kind understands how to do, anyway.”
“My kind, is it?” Jorg inhaled a deep breath before he spoke again. “What did you want from the woman?”
The man continued to glare and said nothing. Jorg stepped harder on his chest, making him wheeze for air. Wide, panicked eyes replaced the glare. “She had information we were seeking,” he choked out.
“What information?”
Plintze leaned forward, capturing the man’s attention. “If you won’t talk, I’ll turn you into a toad and fry your legs for my dinner.”
Selby snorted, though she raised her brows in question. Ingrid rose from the ground and shook her head to relieve her friend’s concern as they both stepped closer to the others. The dwarf couldn’t truly turn a man into a toad—at least she hoped not. Resigned that the woman would no longer be able to help her, she reluctantly moved her attention to the injured man. She wanted to hear what had prompted the attack.
The man darted his eyes between each of his captors and then stared at Ingrid and Selby.
“You’re human,” he said, a look on his face as if he’d eaten bad fish.
“What difference does that make?” Selby snarled.
“These types have tainted our world, and need to be destroyed. Distance yourself from them if you want to keep yourselves safe.”
Ingrid shook her head. “You tortured that poor woman, and for what? Because she had gifts you don’t understand?”
The man curled his lip at Ingrid as he tried, unsuccessfully, to shift his weight. “You are naïve if you think their kind safe.” Coughs wracked his body, and his throat gurgled as Jorg’s foot pressed harder on his chest.
“Who is searching for those with powers?” Jorg asked.
Resting his head on the ground, the man closed his eyes and tightened his mouth. Plintze growled again and kicked his side where the stain darkened his tunic. The man winced and hissed in a deep breath, but refused to give in.
Plintze glared down at the man. “Tell us what you know or join your friends.”
A smirk played on the man’s lips, telling each of them there would be nothing more. Jorg gave Ingrid a determined, yet questioning look. Her stomach lurched at what she knew he was asking, but it had to happen.
Everyone had shielded her from the truth of battle before, which had only served to keep her weak. She wouldn’t live that way anymore. Childhood was over.
The blackness in her head squeezed like a warm hug, pleased with her thoughts. It made her hesitate with confusion over the line separating right and wrong in this situation. She clamped her jaw tight and let the heat build.
These men had killed the best chance she’d had to find Eir and destroyed an innocent woman because they didn’t understand her. The more she let the thoughts swirl, the more her blood raced.
Before anyone could stop her, Ingrid lunged forward and slammed her knife into the man’s neck. His eyes bulged with realization just before she removed the blade.
Blood spurted over her forearms as she sat on her knees. She braced herself with her hands against the man’s chest until it stopped heaving and he stared at the sky with glassy blankness.
What is right about any of this? That some die while I search to save others?
It was different to execute someone after the battle was over, and her insides churned. The worst part was the sense of satisfaction mixed among the guilt and disgust. Shocked by her reaction, she fought against a wash of dizziness and the flashes of light circling her vision.
Strong hands reached under her arms and pulled her to her feet as she continued to stare at the dead man, dagger still in hand. Warm liquid became sticky between her fingers as she forced herself to take deep, even breaths and stand tall.
No one said anything to her as she stepped away, turning her back to the grisly scene. A slight breeze blew against Ingrid’s face as she dealt with her swirling emotions. The darkness that clouded her thoughts disappeared as she accepted what she’d done.
When her heartbeat no longer hammered against her chest, and she’d swallowed down the last bit of bile, she turned to face everyone. She was ready for judgment and reprimand, but she found neither.
“What now? Should we still find her cabin?” Selby said in a flat tone that belied her confident exterior. Her coppery brown hair was in wild tangles where it had slipped from her braid, but she made no effort to fix it.
Ingrid nodded. “I think that’s best. But we should take her body with us, to bury her with what she’ll need in the afterlife. We might find information in her home that could help me find Eir.”
Jorg came to stand beside Ingrid. He peeled the dagger from her fingers and handed her a torn piece of cloth for her hands. While she wiped the blood away with detached carelessness, he cleaned the weapon without a word and slipped it through her belt until she could return it to her thigh later.
“We can’t use a litter to pull her because of all the trees and shrubs, but if we wrap her, I’ll carry her,” he said.
Plintze stood next to the body of their now-fallen enemy called John and gestured the others over. “I found this in a pocket. It’s Saxon, I think.” A flat, golden disk stamped with a symbol the dwarf didn’t recognize lay in his open palm.
Jorg took the coin and let his eyes scan over the symbol, and his brows furrowed. He looked irritated as he shoved it in the pouch attached to his belt. He turned to Ingrid. “We need to get going.”
Ingrid grabbed his sleeve. “What was that?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s gold and proves those men were hired. They were looking for something—not the woman, or they would have killed her fast.” He darted a glance at Ingrid.
Or someone . . . No one knows about me. Do they? Her stomach rolled in on itself as she fell in step behind him.
“I’ll wrap her up,” she said as they approached the woman’s crumpled form. It wasn’t just the loss of information that upset her so much. For reasons Ingrid couldn’t understand, she felt connected to the völva somehow. “We needed more time.” Tears stung Ingrid’s eyes, but she held them back. A weight pushed against her shoulders as the burden of the woman’s final words echoed in her mind.
“I’ll help,” Selby said and crouched down on the opposite side of the body.
Together, they straightened the woman’s limbs and used her own cloak to wrap her. The discarded ropes helped to keep everything in place well enough for Jorg to pick her up. As gently as possible, he rested her stomach over his shoulder. Once he was finished, they looked up at the sky.
Ingrid absentmindedly touched the amber bead in the center of her necklace, and it pulsed against her fingers. A tremble swept through her, and she glanced at the others to see if they’d noticed. The rhythmic sensation sped up as she turned west.
A nudge in the right direction perhaps?
“The cabin should be in that direction.” She pointed and strode away, hoping she’d laced her voice with enough confidence to stave off questions.
The woman had said the bead would guide her, but she’d also said not to tell anyone. Act strong, be strong.
Some of the tension slipped off her shoulders when the group followed, staying in a single line due to the dense brush that surrounded the clearing. They walked in s
ilence and let it soothe their tempers.
3
If it weren’t for the dead woman splayed over Jorg’s shoulder, the sunshine filtering through the leaves would have been pleasant. The red morning clouds had faded away and now it was a warm, balmy day.
The roads that crisscrossed the countryside were scarce where they traveled. From the limited information known about the völva in the village, her home was southwest. They would have to travel through rolling hills covered in forest with broad patches of open meadows. The steady thrum of Ingrid’s amber agreed as she occasionally caressed it while they forged ahead.
For the most part, the undergrowth was manageable, and the trees provided cover and ample supplies for fires and food. Covered in cushiony layers of dead leaves and moss, the forest floor made their footsteps silent whispers and lined the air with the smell of damp earth, with the occasional waft of sweet flowers.
However, a sporadic stagnant pond or trapped pool of water invited the annoyance of buzzing insects. The group was relieved when they came across a large creek. The peaceful area allowed them some much-needed rest as well as refreshment from the bubbling waters.
Jorg carefully lowered the woman down in a shady spot. Her cool body now peacefully rested on soft moss within a patch of ferns, away from the others. Once he was satisfied the woman’s body was safe and sound, he walked over to the creek to splash water over his face and neck. He shook his head and blew out a sigh.
“What are you, some kind of dog?” Selby yelled as she brushed water off her sleeve. With a mischievous grin, Jorg cupped his hand and sent water from the creek in her direction.
“Wrong choice, pretty boy!” Charging, Selby slammed into Jorg’s midsection.
Though he’d braced for the impact, the slippery moss still caused him to stumble. Using her momentum, he righted himself while his arms wrapped around her torso and trapped her from lashing out. He flipped her upside down to dunk her headfirst into the cold waters. Angry growls turned to pleading squeals as she begged for mercy.
Laughing, Jorg returned her to her feet and ruffled her hair. “You may be stronger than average, but you should take more care in who you fight without weapons.”
Plintze was off to the side and snorted a chuckle at Selby’s expense. “You give her too much credit. As if she could think that fast.”
Selby’s hazelnut eyes popped open wide as she gaped at the dwarf. “Listen, little man,” she said, emphasizing the term she knew would rile him, “I can beat either of you, but he’s . . . sturdier than I expected.”
Ingrid giggled from her spot on the ground where she reclined against a tree. Lost in her thoughts of Jorg’s muscular arms and how his laugh made her belly flutter, she squirmed against the rough bark while she twisted a green twig around her fingers.
Selby turned in her direction. Her rosy cheeks perked up as she smiled and shrugged her shoulders, then waggled her eyebrows at Ingrid. “You should have warned me.”
Heat flushed Ingrid’s chest, moving up her neck and into her face. She sucked in a surprised breath before looking away. A slight grin played at her lips as she tried to ignore her friend. It was harder to disregard the devilish curl to Jorg’s mouth when she glanced his way, but she did her best.
Ingrid let the sweet scent of greenery and damp earth bathe her senses and calm her increasing pulse. A glance to the poor deceased woman lying among the ferns and the memory of why she’d died instantly deflated Ingrid’s mood. When she faced the group again, a shimmer in the air across the creek captured her attention. Her brows drew together as she sorted the image.
Plintze noticed and followed her gaze. “Humph.” Surprise laced within his favorite expression.
Selby rolled her eyes. “Looks like the dwarf is trying to speak again. Ingrid, can you translate?”
Ingrid ignored her friend’s remarks as the radiance disappeared and revealed a tiny cabin hidden among the trees. “He was saying ‘look over there, we found the völva’s home.’”
A small grin tugged at the side of Plintze’s lips, and he turned away.
“It was there the whole time,” Jorg said as he stared. “That’s incredible.”
“What are you talking about?” Selby asked. She peered in the same direction as Ingrid, straining to see something.
“The cottage across the creek, to the left of that fallen tree over there,” Ingrid said pointing so Selby could follow her line of sight.
“I don’t see it.” Selby threw her hands into the air and turned to face Ingrid.
Ingrid stood and brushed the small bits of leaves and moss from her trousers before walking over to Selby. “Look over my shoulder, straight ahead through that little triangle of branches. Do you see it?”
Silence filled the area as Selby’s breath tickled Ingrid’s neck. Intent on her search, she didn’t notice how close she had leaned into her friend. Ingrid didn’t want to disturb her, though she ached to move.
“No. Is this some kind of joke? Ah,” Selby waved her hand and turned away, pursing her lips and rolling her eyes. “You’re trying to make me look like a fool as a joke.”
Ingrid rolled her ear against her shoulder with a shiver then met the confused stares of Jorg and Plintze before they each settled their eyes on Selby.
“You truly don’t see it?” Jorg asked.
“Enough. I won’t fall for that.” Selby stomped away to stand by herself.
Plintze strode to Selby, and with a grumble, grabbed hold of her arm, spinning her back toward the cottage. He mumbled a few indecipherable words while Ingrid stared and held her breath, sure that Jorg did, too.
“Let go of me, dwa—” Selby’s jaw went slack as her words faded away. Her head tipped downward as her eyes widened. “How? But, what? That was not there before.” She pulled out of the dwarf’s grip and spun to face him. “How did you do that? Is this some kind of dwarf trick?”
“It was there the whole time, glamoured so we couldn’t see it,” Jorg said. He rubbed his neck while shaking his head with an appreciative huff.
“Was the glamour connected to the woman? Wouldn’t it have released as soon as she died?” Fascinated and hungry to learn more about magic, Ingrid leaned forward waiting for Plintze to respond.
“Depends on the enchantment. It’s possible she designed the glamour to slip because of her close proximity to it. Or maybe there’s nothing left to power the spell because of her lack of essence. Anybody’s guess, but it’s good this happened, or we’d have walked right by,” Plintze said.
A gravelly chuckle rattled his chest. “Jorg would have carried that woman for days.” The chuckle erupted into two large guffaws before it settled again into a series of muffled snorts.
“Let’s get over there and set about sending her to the afterlife,” Jorg said.
Sucking in a deep breath, he walked to the woman with a pinched expression. There was a grumble in his throat as he retrieved the body and moved to cross the creek.
The small structure of stone walls and a thatched roof had an arched wooden door that offered an inviting charm. It reminded Ingrid of the door to Plintze’s cottage, and she peeked over at him.
There wasn’t any hint of wistfulness in his expression, so she tucked the thoughts away as her own. Glass-paned windows sat on either side of the door just above boxes spilling over with blue periwinkle and yellow cowslip.
A path paved in flat stones led to the front door, flanked by blossoms of pink yarrow and white chamomile with their cheery yellow centers. Under the eaves, closest to the group, sat a bench with an empty woven basket.
“This is stunning.” Selby’s voice held wonder and awe. “How does a glamour work? Are there hidden houses everywhere?” A glower flashed over her face, and she flicked her eyes upward. “Or are they hidden only to me?”
“Humph.”
“Aaah, there he goes again. Talk, talk, talk,” Selby scolded.
Ingrid snickered under her breath, happy to hear normalcy return between Plintze and
Selby despite the circumstances.
“There aren’t any others,” Ingrid replied as she patted Selby’s shoulder.
Together, they soaked in the picturesque scenery. It hinted at a happy woman—one who had gathered herbs and mushrooms and lived in harmony with the world around her.
The darkness pestered Ingrid’s thoughts once more, oozing from one side to the other as if pleased with the woman’s demise. Nausea welled in her stomach, and she swallowed to keep the bile from rising.
“Selby and I can gather the items for her journey if you two will prepare a site.” Ingrid’s gaze landed on Jorg, and he nodded.
Without protest, Plintze followed Jorg as they wandered toward a patch of wildflowers mingled among tall grasses.
4
Ingrid pressed against the door handle, and it gave without a hitch. A waft of air filled with the scent of fresh bread and apples floated outside.
Light filtered in through the windows, allowing beams of dust to sparkle in the air as Ingrid and Selby took in the surroundings. What appeared to be a one-room cottage on the outside, belied an expansive interior.
The girls stood in an impressive entry with the ceiling stretching at least four fathoms high. To the right was a large room with a massive solid wood table and chairs. The table was made from a giant ash tree split in half and polished with enough oil to see a reflection. It rested atop an equally imposing stump as a base.
The hand-carved chairs were made from living trees. They were tall in the back with a wide seat, and the roots had been left in place, spreading out against the floor for stability.
Another grand room spun from nature opened to their left. Both friends turned in a slow arc, absorbing the sights. Beautiful golden sconces hung on the walls every few feet, although none were lit. Shared astonishment flashed between them when they faced each other.
Amber Magic (The Viking Maiden series Book 2) Page 2