by Farah Cook
I get dressed and grab the handle of the door, but it’s locked. I shake it, but the handle doesn’t budge. I can’t believe I’m being kept captive while there’s a fest in full swing on the other side. If I’ve learned anything since leaving the East, it’s to make friends, seek alliances, smile, and don’t piss people off. Unfortunately, I am not good at playing by these rules. But I am sincere and honest—qualities less preferred in the Triangle. Qualities that seem to be accepted in this place, which is why I have to get to that fest.
I shake the handle again, but it is still not budging.
Out of frustration I squat, holding my head between my hands. I’m staring angrily at the thick oak door. There has to be a way out of here. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. There’s a slit in the roof, which is made out of turf. A smile creeps up my face. I get to my feet, grab the chair, and swing onto a steady beam. I smack my legs over it and sit in an upright position. Then I get up and balance my weight, my arms spreading out like an eagle’s wings, just like the proud Jarl tattoo on my arm.
With my hands, I shove some of the hard turf from the top away to widen the slit. But it’s still not big enough to get through. I swallow a scream against my fist. The sound of music and singing is getting louder. I refuse to sit in here and miss out on what could be an opportunity to meet the very people who call themselves the real Vikings.
If I could just get to the other side I might get answers to the questions that I heard in assembly earlier. I’m the intruder who brought the Verans in, and broke the spell that kept this secret city protected. They hate me and from what the Wizard warned, they want to see me dead, a wish Grethe wants to grant them. A wish my dad fully supports after seeing his daughter after almost fifteen years.
I form a fist and keep punching it against the roof. It takes me twenty attempts before the top starts to break. My knuckles ache. They’ve cracked a little and are bleeding. Thick dust motes and hay straws fall onto me. I sneeze hard and lose my balance from the beamer falling flat on my back.
I crush the necklace carrying red soil from the East. My hand feels the softness of the earth crawling between my fingers. I’ve been carrying the chain since I left home. Someone that used to be my friend, Gustav, gave it to me. Why can’t I recall the way he looks? I remember other faces and places from the East in a blur.
I remember that I tested my courage by entering the Forbidden Areas—a god forsaken place ruled by trolls, fairies, giants, and other mystical creatures. It existed ever since our world turned dark after Ragnarok. How else would the birth of the Triangle have been possible?
When I come to think of it, I despise the rules of the Triangle. They swore they’d find the Nine Worlds. When things changed alliances were formed and broken. I don’t know why
the Verans are siding with Lord Nourusa. What has the dark lord promised them? Immortality? Power, wealth? They already have all that.
The peace we’ve preserved in the Triangle for so long means nothing. The enemy is doing what it needs to; eliminating threat. Raiders do not have the strength alone to defeat the old powerful Viking wizards. And certainly, not commoners. It is not what they are trained to do.
Rarely commoners obtain elite status among raiders and those that do, like Maja Gustafson, can become incredibly powerful, using black magic and death spells to harm their enemy. But magic among Jarl raiders is against our code of ethics.
I was lucky I survived an attempt on my life in the Tower of Swords. Maja was not just thirsty for my blood; she also desired Magnus’s love. Soon Magnus will rule, but he needs my help to defeat Nourusa—a vicious and powerful, ancient lord from our past that’s gathering his strength from the Veran worshippers summoning him from the dead. I cannot leave without the weapons. If I do the Triangle and Midgard will fall into darkness. I need to get the weapons.
In my dreams, Midgard is nothing like the Triangle. It is a world apart where people live freely and in peace. A world with lush green forests and silver peak mountains. In my vision rivers run wild and blue. I can almost touch it. The taste of freedom.
The burden I carry on my back feels heavy. Some might think it’s a privilege to have such great responsibility. To carry the map for all those years, until Yggdrasil makes her journey through time, to be awakened and give us what we’ve been waiting for. Sometimes I don’t think I can do what I was chosen to do. What will happen if our worlds fall into darkness? Will all hope of free worlds be gone forever?
I remind myself over and over why I am here and what I must do. I am afraid if I don’t, I will fall weak and lose my sense of purpose. I still wish I had Frederick by my side.
What’s he doing in the Ashes? Will he turn against me now that he’s back with those from his own clan? Is that why the Earl was so stubborn about sending him and Mina there?
I try to defeat my negative thoughts and curl up like a ball on the floor where I am kept. I’m in agony, and the bones in my body crack and rattle. I think I am okay. I want out of here and rise to my feet to try the door again. Only this time someone opens it for me.
“Going somewhere, Nora?” the Earl asks with a smile in his eyes.
4
News
MY EXPRESSION REVEALS nothing I hope. I want him to know I am furious but realize he probably recognizes that by now. He walks into the room and searches for the truth in my eyes. I have nothing to hide. He can search all he wants and he does, like a serpent twisting around its prey. Will he see who I truly am? His blood and bone.
He thinks he knows me because I am his daughter, but the truth is he knows nothing about me. All he carries are ideas about who I am from what little he’s seen. He leans against the wall. At least he’s come alone to see me. He didn’t bring his young bodyguard. I wonder if he can read my thoughts and gauge my feelings.
“Yes,” he says and looks away as if shy. I can’t imagine a man like him timid or fearful. Perhaps he’s nervous and doesn’t know how to handle my expected arrival. He’s short of words, but something tells me tonight he’ll not be sparse. “I can read some of your thoughts. Not all, and certainly not your feelings.”
“Still, you think I am dangerous and should be treated like a captive, keeping me locked in this room against my will.”
“You’re here out of free will. No one is holding you a captive. The door was locked to protect you from people in this city—people who want answers and have been long waiting for the battle you’ve invited yourself into.”
“I have?” I want to laugh out loud. “You should know I hate battle.”
“You can’t; you are an assassin.”
“So is Grethe, and so were you.” I say. “Just because I am one doesn’t mean I like what I do. Killing someone, anyone, whether it’s a long-lost sister or an enemy is not something that I take pleasure in.”
“Grethe is an assassin with a purpose. There’s a difference,” he says. “Her mind is trained to believe in battle, unlike yours.”
“My purpose is no different. Grethe serves you and your city, and I protect the people I have sworn loyalty to. She carries the tattoos of our clan, and the same blood runs in her veins as it does in mine.”
“Grethe has been tasked to protect the key to the gate that leads to another world where the Viking weapons are kept. She’s taken a blood oath.”
“Then I just have to fight her.” I sound like a bloodthirsty assassin. “Killing someone that wants me dead is a familiar feeling.”
“Have you ever wondered why people want you dead?” He furrows his brow.
“They see me as a threat.”
“Still you feel it is safe to break into the City of Vikings and snatch up the key that will grant you access to a place in the past where the weapons are kept?”
“Point taken, Father,” I say. “I am not welcome here.”
“I am not your enemy, Nora.”
“You aren’t my friend either.”
“I don’t want you to suffer more than you already have. I k
now one part of you came looking for the father you never knew. I do not blame you, but I cannot live up to your expectations. I will disappoint you.”
“Is it that awful to have me as your daughter?” I hold back the tears welling in my eyes. Bastard, I want to shout.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be your father, Nora. I will not stand here and pretend I know what it feels like to be in your shoes. But I needed for you to grow up knowing of me—”
“Because you wanted me to come look for you?”
“No, I knew you’d seek the truth yourself. I never wanted you to find me. I made that clear to your mother when I left her.”
“What truth are you talking about? Or should I say lie. I have discovered many.” I break down in tears and fall to the ground. I feel weak, vulnerable, and lost. The love I longed for from my dad is denied to me. He never wanted me to be his daughter. Why?
“Because…” He squats down before me and lifts up my chin with his finger. The green of first spring in his eyes feels warm. “We both know what you must do to me.”
“I’d never—” He wipes away the tears in my eyes. “—Kill my own father.”
“You may not like this,” he says firmly. “But it is the wizard’s foretelling. I never wanted to leave you. I had to because of your mother.”
“Karen?”
“We used to think alike, until she didn’t. She lied to me and deceived me. If I knew what she was plotting, you’d not be here. You’d never have been born.”
“What do you mean?” I say. “I beg you. Tell me the truth about what happened. Why did you leave and choose a life in exile?”
“I will, Nora. It’s your right to know.”
“Was it because I was chosen by the gods?”
“That’s what she told you?” he says, curling his lip. I sense I will miss out on the fest, but I’d miss out on any Viking fest to stay up all night to hear what he has to say. At this moment, nothing else in the world matters more than his words.
He crosses his arms over his chest. His head is bowed. He doesn’t seem willing to tell me anything. Just when I am about to raise my voice, the cords in his throat release a sound colder than the winter season outside the wizard’s barn.
“It all began before you were born. Karen and I were young, in love, and life in the Triangle was peaceful. We knew who we were and had sworn allegiance to serve the Goths under their glory days. But it all changed. A year before you were born, it became the hardest time of our lives. It was during the inquisition that the legend of your ancestors, a hidden seal, was broken. The sword you brought was taken from Arres, also known as the City of Assassins. Karen was with child, but you were not the baby living inside your mother’s womb. You had a sibling. We lost the child during the interrogation the day the Verans came to power. They had gathered a strong army of men led by Lord Wilhelm. The Goth fell and Benedikte saw her husband ruthlessly murdered. She decided to hide her son and daughters from the eyes of the enemy when she saw what they did to Karen.
The Verans took the child from your mother’s womb before she ever held it. It was a miracle she survived after they left her in a pool of her own blood to die. Karen is a strong woman. She insisted we have another child after our baby was taken from us, and that’s when you were conceived. The gods know we had no trace of our lost child, as if the Verans had erased it from the heavens and from the earth. We used every forbidden spell we could find in the Viking books, but not a single clue led to our child’s existence. I started to believe it was dead and after a while, so did Karen. She never said anything of course because she didn’t want to believe it at first.” Tears fill his eyes.
“Why did the Verans take the child from you?” I ask.
“Because the foretelling had reached the Veran Lords. The birth of a child chosen by the gods would lead us all to the Nine Worlds of the Vikings. It was not just any child, but a descendant from a Viking assassin clan. The scoundrels began their search. And it wasn’t long before they tracked us down. Nora, I am sorry that all this was kept secret from you. Sometimes not knowing the truth is better than a blissful kiss from the gods. I don’t want to think about the past. Much grief lies there and much sorrow. I am telling you all of this because it is the truth you came seeking.”
“Did you ever care about me?” I say, my voice trembling. The tears stream down my cheeks. If he says no, I will have to find a way to live with it.
“Of course, I did. I still do. Nora, you’re my own flesh and blood. You deserve to know the whole truth about what happened. Why I chose to leave, and had nothing to do with you.” He pauses for a while before continuing.
“A year after we lost our child, the Verans began undertaking their own missions, but the raiders found nothing among the ruins in the Forbidden Areas. No clues of any kind, only death and deadly creatures. My soul was restless after everything that had happened. I had no purpose in life and decided to become an elite raider for the Jarl dynasty. The life of a raider gave me no purpose. It only distracted me for a while. I knew I had to escape, although some part of me wanted to die. Perhaps the part that chose to become raider. I didn’t graduate from Dock Harbor because Verans controlled it. Benedikte went against all odds. She used her ancient wisdom and power and granted me elite status. I led a mission of my own into the Forbidden Areas hoping I would find our child. Something I did not expect happened. A secret passage led me into this sacred land, which became the City of Vikings. I knew it was an opportunity for Karen, you, and me to escape the tyranny that had taken over the Triangle. This would be a fresh start for us, leaving it all behind, building a free place.”
He stops talking and the expression on his face is a mix of sadness and grief. Is he sad that he left me behind? I don’t know. The truth is hard to swallow, hard to understand. All this was kept from me. Why? Because he was devastated to lose his child that was taken? When I look at my dad I feel anger. I want to distance myself from him and from his story. He left me, left his clan, left everything behind, even his own wife. What do I expect now that I know the truth? An apology? It’s too late for that. I’ve seen and heard just about enough. Yet I’m curious about one more thing.
“What about the child you lost. Did you ever find them?”
My dad shakes his head.
“After spending months in the Forbidden Areas, I returned to the West. Everything was different. The Triangle had become the new and rising land and the City of Skies was now the capital and rose faster than any other place. The Triangle was considered a place of the future.”
“What about me?”
“You had turned two that year and were living in the West with Karen. That’s when things changed for us again. The search for Viking worlds was suddenly banned. The foretelling was reinstated. Raiders were only to search for the ancient artifacts: Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, and the golden horn, Gjallerhorn, which awakens Yggdrasil. It is said that when the tree is awake, she will sow her roots into the Nine Worlds, and a child chosen by the gods will lead us. This was supposed to be another descendant from a Viking assassin clan. This child would carry the key that unlocks the nine realms. The recruitments of raiders began. The search for the artifacts was enforced across the West, slowly spreading to the North and giving birth to the Orkeney dynasty, which was ruled by intellectuals and their wisdom. Rognvald’s dark raiders were controlled by the Verans and led by Lord Wilhelm. Jarl fell under the Goths, but they were weak. Benedikte had no power, no authority left. No one wanted to recruit raiders from the East, who they considered a secluded and primitive people. It was the only place where you could be kept safe.”
“What happened then?”
“It became clear why your mother wanted to have another child. My own wife betrayed me. She knew of the second foretelling long before me. She wanted our legacy to lead the Goths back to power. Karen was determined to raise you against my wishes. I wanted a free life for you, for us, built on old Viking traditions. Karen made her choice and hid you in the East
, where Verans never set foot. They were unable to track the chosen child. Because the more you’d know, the quicker they’d find you. Karen has put all her faith in the Goths more than anything and wants revenge for what they did to her. I wanted nothing to do with it. I had seen enough death and destruction during the invasion. I left when you were two years old. I used my new mission as raider to pretend I was searching for the ancient artifacts. But I set out to create the City of Vikings. Benedikte reluctantly allowed me to leave, but I was never to return. Karen became obsessed with the idea that the Goths should regain power. I had every reason to leave the West, my dynasty, clan, and Karen. Our ways changed under the new rule. The senate was useless, and the chancellors and ombudsmen did nothing to restore an alliance with the opposition. The Goths became submissive and needy, obeying everything the Verans demanded. They used their power of manipulation to get what they wanted from commoners. The essence and ethos of our Viking clan disappeared. It hadn’t always been this way. We’d die and defy those who’d oppress us, but our enemy broke us. I couldn’t fight, because I was in anguish. Everything I needed was lost. Karen preserved what was left of the Hunt family’s legacy. Behind closed doors, she ran sedition against the enemy. She broke our ancestor’s seal. She took the sword from the past world of Arres and gave it to you. Karen knew what it meant and that you would bring it here with you in search for the other weapons. We believe it was after the first foretelling that she entered the City of Assassins and somehow got hold of the sword in return for something else that only the devil only knows about.”
“The curse to kill,” I say my voice low. He looks at me warily. There’s a quiet death in the air. “I can’t explain it, but when I hold it, I feel a need to kill.”
“Karen may have unleashed the curse of the assassins bringing the sword. I can’t piece together why they let her have it. The weapons are powerful but only when kept united. Without the sword, the remaining weapons are powerless. They were forged to destroy, and if they fall into the wrong hands, it could be disastrous for the Triangle. Legend has it your ancestors were merciless killers of the oldest Viking clan. They traveled outside their realm to discover a new world. But it wasn’t new. It was a world of the past called Arres. Their only wish was to break free from Justus Markus’s spell, and return to Midgard.”