by Farah Cook
“Nora, although I’ve dreamed of seeing you again, you should never have set foot here. You have no idea what danger you could unleash. There’s so much you still have to learn.” He turns around, twisting his hands nervously. “You have grown more beautiful and courageous than the gifts the gods blessed you with. The gifts of bravery, beauty, and strength.”
“What about freedom?” I say. Grethe stands and takes a place next to him. She clearly respects the Earl and is unquestionably devoted to him. I sense the vanity that surrounds her. Grethe knows her place and she knows who she is, and she is outraged that I dare to question the world surrounding us. I question the things that she never would. Why should she? She was raised in a time and in a place that is sealed from reality and for that, I pity her.
“Nora,” she says, her voice thin as if it was a flickering thread. “No one is ever truly free. We are all slaves to either our own mind or the minds of others. When we cannot live up to our own expectations, we fulfill the hopes and dreams of others, and through that we find freedom.”
“Your sister is right, Nora,” says the Earl and shifts his glance toward Grethe. “You must take her advice and settle your inner battle.”
“Is that what you’re doing here?” I say. My voice filled with anger. “Fulfilling dreams of others so you can be free? And you dare tell me I am the one with a fight?”
“We are Vikings, and we are born free,” Grethe says. “We carry the legacy of our gods and live the values of our ancestors. Call it fulfilling dreams if you like. But where you come from, the Triangle, people are scattered among different beliefs and clans. It’s a place run by dangerous Vikings, and two you have brought with you—”
“And the Goths?” I say. “Why don’t you serve them? They want to reinstate the old Viking rules, don’t they?” The guise in my dad’s eyes is deeper than the evil shadows that haunt the Forbidden Areas. What stops him from telling me the secrets he so obviously holds back? Perhaps he cares only about the world he’s built in the City of Vikings, and cares only about the daughter he’s replaced me with. Grethe seems like a dangerously wise girl who I sense guides him in his decisions. The way she shadows him, looks at him. They depend on one another.
“Soon you will know what the Goths are,” he says. “I don’t have to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I feel a sting on my wrist. A message is transmitting to my chip, which has had no signal until now. I take a moment to stare at the red flash, and then tab it to read the text from Magnus hoping he sends good news.
I glance at my dad. He’s silent as a grave. I wonder if he knows…
The message says, “When you find your father, you must kill him.”
3
Trapped
THE RED FLASH dies and the message from Magnus melts like molten brass. The air around me feels hot and the smell of death closer than my own scent of fear. The message doesn’t hit me immediately and when it does, I find it hard not to believe it’s a mistake. I feel hurt and betrayed. Did Magnus send me here to kill my dad?
He must be out of his mind to suggest that I should commit such a crime and murder my dad in cold blood without any questions being asked. How can he tell me to do this? Being an assassin doesn’t mean I don’t feel or don’t dare question orders from the Goths, or does it?
Killing Maja may have seemed easy, but it wasn’t. Her blood still taints my skin with the smell of rotten flesh from when I took off her head. Although I know Maja deserved to die, but the Earl has done nothing except serve his own needs. That doesn’t mean he needs to die. Does Magnus know something I don’t? Is he keeping secrets from me?
What does Karen have to say about all this? Maybe she doesn’t care. She hasn’t seen her own husband for fourteen years. What difference does it make if he lives or dies? He’s been away for reasons he’s kept secret and stayed away to serve his purpose—becoming an Earl of the City of Vikings. And what a purpose that is.
When I look up, Alfrothul Gunnlaug, the great Viking wizard—also known as Åse Almvej—sits with his other face confronting me, as if I was on trial. His back is twisted badly. Unnatural. Unnerving. I did not see him come my way. Like a wraith, he appears out of nowhere. The two masked faces on his front and back guide him, and it is Åse, the face of tragedy I fear the most. I nestle in the stiff wooden chair, shifting the animal skin underneath.
Instead of feeling comfortable and safe, I feel distressed and threatened by everything in this room. I wish Frederick were by my side. His love is my strength and without it, I feel weak and frail, as if some ancient spell is overpowering me.
I don’t exchange another word with my dad, but the look in his eyes tells me he knows about the message. Soon you will know what the Goths are. He’d said. I am committed to serving the Jarl Dynasty, and Magnus is not cruel or heartless. He’s my friend and I trust him. I’ve sworn my loyalty to him and promised I’d get the weapons to strengthen our forces against the rising threat from Lord Nourusa.
But how does killing my dad help me defeat the enemy?
For all these years, my dad has been a fantasy figure. Am I to just kill him without questioning Magnus? He knows I am not the killer the Goths need me to be. I may be fearless, courageous, and brave in his eyes, but I am not heartless. I do what I must when I have to and guard my feelings against the world. For it has given me nothing except questions that still lead me astray like a dog searching for its one true master.
I still want to confront the Earl with all my questions. They are like a deadly poison dripping into my veins. The only reason I don’t entirely resent him is because I know hiding me in the East wasn’t his choice. It was Karen’s—the woman who calls herself my mother and dedicates her true loyalty to serve the Goth clan.
“I hope the news you received is pleasant?” says Alfrothul. He pulls up his comedy face and smiles at me. He knows what stings my mind. The message from Magnus is hard to erase. I dig my nails into the arm of the chair to release my stress, but instead it circles and explodes on the inside. I have no place to hide. I feel naked and exposed like the wizard can read my fears and anxieties before they rise.
“Very pleasant,” I say curling my lip. I keep a straight face. But Alfrothul is a wise wizard. He’s seen past the awful face of a liar.
“I think the young lady needs to rest now, Earl Robert, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’m perfectly rested thank you,” I say crisply. They’ve brought me here to tame me. What else are they to do with me? I know the ugly news Alfrothul is about to announce.
“Very well, Nora,” says Alfrothul. “You may want to reconsider my offer when I say that you need to rest, because you’re expected to be in battle by the break of dawn.”
“I’ve not come here to fight,” I say. “I’ve come here to get answers and the weapons that are my right to claim.” I want answers that will give me hope that my purpose to serve the Goths is good as I am beginning to lose faith. But Magnus’s message suddenly changed everything. I am avoiding the question circling in my mind.
“Vikings always fight,” says Grethe, her smile full of mischief. “And fight you shall, dear sister. Only then will you get what you came for. You didn’t expect to walk out of here just like that, did you?”
“Fight against whom if I may ask?” I sound condescending, and I don’t hide it. What do I really know about this place, other than my dad has been hiding in it? Do I trust that he alone holds all the answers to what I’m looking for? And now this. “Who do I have to kill to get what I came looking for?” I say to provoke Grethe.
“Me of course,” says Grethe. “But don’t be so sure about killing me. You’re not the only assassin under this roof.”
“What?” I say angrily. “I never wanted—”
“But you are,” says my dad. “You know very well who you are loyal to.”
“Why is that such a crime?” I say. “It’s not like the choice was mine.”
“But it was, my daughter,” he says. “Whe
n you selected Jarls you chose the side you wanted to be on.”
“And why do you think I did that?” I say furiously. “Did you not submit to them?”
“That was different.” he says.
“Why?” I ask. “When I was taken by the recruiters I wasn’t exactly given a choice. I was told what to do. Do you do what others tell you? No! You give orders. You don’t take them.”
“Nora,” says my dad. “You’re in my territory. Contain yourself.”
“What if I don’t?” I say. I want to roar and unleash my blazing anger. “And what if I refuse this battle with Grethe? What will you do to me? Imprison me? Poison me? Stab me to death?”
“Our rules are not bound by the Triangle or dynasty code of ethics. We do not serve the Goths or the Verans. We fulfill our duties to the gods, and the gods believe in battle. Grethe is a Viking assassin and has trained since the age of four. She’s clever, quick, and merciless. She’s the sworn protector of our city—a city that rose from nothing and became a place for the true believing Vikings. You will fight her because that’s the only way you’re getting access to Arres.”
“What is this place?” I say.
“We call it the City of Assassins.”
I take a deep breath. “You speak as if I am just here for the weapons.”
“You come here seeking death, my daughter, because nothing else awaits you. You must fight Grethe.”
“I’d never—”
“You don’t know that,” says Alfrothul. He turns his back to keep Åse Almvej, the female side, from speaking but fails. “You will kill for the Goths,” she cries. “That’s why you’ve come. You will kill your family to get past the gate that will lead you to the past world.”
“Do you mean Arres? No! That’s not why I am here, I swear.” I seek comfort in the eyes of my dad. I read the worry on his mind.
“Grethe will do what she must to protect us,” says Alfrothul. “And so must you.”
“I don’t want to fight her,” I say. “I’m here as your daughter, not as an assassin.” Do they see me as a deadly threat? Is that all I am to them? An assassin…
“You have no choice,” my dad says. “You need to fight if you want access to the weapons.”
I stare at him and see cruelty in his eyes. He’s been waiting for this moment. He’s known I would come and has prepared himself with his own personal missile–Grethe. The Earl is guarding the weapons. He has reason to. I am not leaving here without them.
“You’d rather see your two daughters fight to the death?” I say. “And what for?”
“It’s the will of the gods,” he says and draws out my missing sword. I reach for it at the same time as Grethe, but the sword lingers in the air, the blade changing color from blood red to crystal blue.
“It will need to return only to its true masters,” Alfrothul says. “It’s the only way to activate the power of the other weapons.”
“The sword was given to me, and it is mine to keep,” I say, my voice raising. I can’t control my rage. I do not want to follow the old Viking rules of battle, bravery, and honor.
“All the weapons belong to the assassins of Arres, including the sword you claim to be yours,” Alfrothul says. “Take my advice and rest now, child, for tomorrow you will need strength if prayers can’t keep your mind calm.”
“Wait!” I say. “Why must the sword return to its true masters?”
“The sword was given to Karen in return for…” Alfrothul pauses. “I will not talk about these matters anymore. This conversation is going to end now.” And just like that he begins to fade quicker than the night breaks into dawn. I want him to stay and answer all the darting questions on my mind. Why was the sword given to Karen? What did she get in return? I reach out to grab hold of his cloak, but my fingers hold nothing except a thick, smoky air.
It is late in the evening, and I’ve been brought back to the same room I was in when I first arrived here. So much for resting and gathering strength. My head throbs and my body feels heavy as if my bones were made out of metal. I am confused. I find myself in a web of mysterious riddles unraveling, one after the other. I wish I were born into the truth. I wish my dad had never abandoned me. I wish Karen had raised me in the West.
My wishful thinking will not change things. It’s too late for that now. All I need to do is follow the rules. Fight Grethe. Earn the respect of my dad. He loves me. I feel it deep inside my heart. Why else would he be so emotional when I asked him how he knew I was his daughter. He’s afraid and seals his feelings to please Grethe and his people. The Earl has his duties to carry out, his role to play.
It feels as if everyone is against me and detests me for what I stand for. They hate me for wanting the weapons, and for bringing Frederick and Mina with me. I came here thinking my dad would hold me in his arms, be happy to see me, show me what way I need to go, and offer advice. Nothing has worked out the way I’d hoped.
My dad disobeyed every rule and fled. He now obeys silly rules that have entrapped him. He has been in exile for all those years, and I get it. He is wanted for treason against the Triangle for leaving his duties. I was sent to kill him; I understand that now. He knew that all this would happen. He has been preparing for the battle. One assassin against another. It makes me feel like a pawn in game of chess. Are those I trust using me?
My dad has created his own deadly weapon and trusts no one, least of all me, because I am a stranger to him, someone who serves the enemy. Could it be that he is torn between his obligation and his belief and maybe even his old feelings from the past?
But the real question is why did he leave his duties in the first place? Robert Hunt started out as a raider just like me, on a mission to find the ancient Viking artifacts. What changed? What made him leave and become a deserter?
I have to speak to him. He can’t just send me into battle against Grethe with a confused and tortured mind. He must know that my heart sits with Frederick. The powers I have allow me to heal fast. I have dodged the sweet taste of death before. Yggdrasil will protect me; she always does. She is my shield just for a little longer. In a few days I turn seventeen, and that’s when the real magic happens—the symbols that unlock the nine Viking worlds.
I know nothing of Grethe, except that she is my halfblooded sister. To defend myself I will have to kill her. I’m sure she has no problem killing me. The hatred in her eyes, the resentment she feels for me is obvious. It’s like she’s been waiting for me her entire life guarding the secret that leads into the City of Assassins. That’s the only logical explanation I can think of when Åse Almvej screamed that I was here for the secret key to the world hidden in the past.
But I need answers from my dad before I face Grethe in battle. If I die, I want to die knowing the truth. What grudge does the Earl hold against those he considered his own? Against his wife? I’ve always had a strong spirit in spite of my upbringing in the East. I feel something deeply rooted inside my heart. “A torch against the fading candles” like my dad pointed out. I have to keep the flame alive and do what I believe is right.
If I’d sworn loyalty to the Verans, I would have chosen Rognvald. Dark raiders who believe in battle, rivalry, and merciless killings to get what they want. Just like Mona and Peter who nearly killed me when we raided Eldor. Frederick was never like them. He was different from the start and battles every day between what his mind tells him and what his heart tells him. There’s a risk he could betray me. The dark side is like a shadow. It follows. It takes over people’s will when it is weak and broken.
As Jarl, I’ve had to take responsibility to lead the dynasty. I’ve had to submit to my duty as an assassin and protect the Goths against its enemies, the Verans, Lord Nourusa, and even the people of this city.
With Magnus as the new leader, things will change. They have to. The sedition against the Verans is happening, and the alliance with the senate is getting stronger. I don’t want to fight the wrong side. I can’t escape the feeling that that is what I am do
ing. Ever since coming here that feeling is growing like a tumor in my mind. Karen warned me if I fail to take up my duty, my fate will be written in blood.
Magnus will have me killed should I disobey orders and go against him. He is counting on me. Treason is frowned upon in the Triangle. Where does that leave Frederick? He will be wanted for sedition. He’s betrayed his clan and dynasty for me. I shake off a cold shiver. Was Frederick sent to the Ashes to redeem himself?
Before I go to sleep, I think of a way to avoid going into battle. I have no vision from Yggdrasil. I don’t know what I am up against. A young Duchess, yes, but is she as undefeatable as I am? Will I be fighting against my own shadow? If only there was a way I could reason with her. But she’s as loyal as the assassin’s blade. I’ll have to try and speak to my dad alone in the morning.
Yggdrasil holds the worlds of the Vikings: Asgard, a divine place and home to the gods; Niflheim, a place of dead souls, dark and daunting; Alfheim, land of the powerful and wise elves; Jotunheim, home of the giants; Midgard, home to mankind; Svart Alfaheim, home to the dwarves; Vanaheim, a land claimed by the Verans; Muspelheim, a land of fire where the demons reside; and Helheim, a grim and cold place for killers, and dishonorable people.
The nine divine worlds are powerful and for the Goths to rule, it will take a battle greater than Ragnarok. With that in mind, I have my own battles to fight, against myself, my heart, and against the world that I cannot escape. Nothing feels safe in the Triangle. Although I have one alliance I can count on. A person no one will suspect–Andreas. He is in the West, and he will help me. I am certain. With a restless mind, I fall into a dreamless sleep.
Some time later at night the sound of music wakes me. I get up and look outside my window and catch a glimpse of the large barn across the main yard. There’s little light coming from the corners of the doors and windows. I sharpen my ears and hear a thumping. I cannot believe it. They’re having a fest.