Fiske ran past me, his sword swinging up and over his head before it sank into the back of a Svell. The man fell at his feet and he yanked it back, spinning and taking another down with a second stroke. My eyes focused on a woman lifting a bow behind him. She sighted down her arrow at Fiske, her mouth dropping open as her fingers slid from the string.
“Down!” I ran for her as Fiske dropped to his haunches and the arrow sailed over his head and hit the Svell behind him.
She reached for another arrow but I was too close. I brought my axe down onto her shoulder and she fell to her knees, reaching for Fiske. He toppled backward, driving his sword up to impale the woman with it. The length of the blade shone with blood as Fiske pulled it from where it was wedged between her bones and stood, heaving.
I stepped over the woman at my feet, picking up her sword with my free hand.
“Alright?” Fiske waited for me to nod before he turned back to the three warriors running toward us.
He readied, one hand hovering at his side to steady himself, and I took a step forward, pivoting on my foot to bring the axe around me with more momentum. I didn’t look at the mark before it landed, relying on my aim so that I could keep an eye on the Svell woman closing in. The point of the axe blade sliced clean through the thick of the man’s leg and I let the handle slide from my fingers as the woman reached me. I dropped to one knee, taking the hilt of the sword into both hands before driving it upward with a snap. It sank into the center of her chest and Fiske yanked me by my armor, pulling me up and shoving my axe back into my hands. We pushed forward, to the front line.
But before we made it, a man barreled into me, knocking me off my feet. My axe flew from my grasp and as I braced for the blow of his sword, he suddenly froze, falling to his knees before me. His hands clutched at the iron point punctured through his throat. Blood spilled out between his fingers as he clawed at the arrow.
I looked past him to see Tova, standing with her bow lifted and her fingers curled around the next arrow’s fletching. She snatched the knife from the belt of the fallen Svell at her feet, tossing it into the air, and the blade sank into the ground beside me. I rolled to the side, taking the knife into my hands, and drove it back to catch the Svell swinging at Fiske. He cried out, falling forward, and I rolled back up onto my knees, sinking the blade into his side.
When I looked back over my shoulder, Tova was gone.
Another body bolted in my direction as I yanked the blade free and I fell onto my back, lifting the knife as he came down, and it cut into him, finding the soft place below his breastbone. He landed on top of me and I looked up as two shadows slid over the ground. Fiske and Eelyn stood over me, fighting back to back. I shoved the body off of me and got to my feet. The forest was covered in fighting clansmen, their screaming muted by the roar of the storm above us.
Iri tossed my axe into the air and I caught it, using the momentum of his throw to catch a Svell woman in the arm as she reared back for a blow with her sword. She stumbled to the side and I came back with the other hand, cutting into the opening of her armor vest with the knife.
She fell as Mýra appeared behind her, blood smeared across her face like war paint. She jerked her chin to the right and I turned with the axe lifted, snapping it back before sinking it into another man’s chest.
Behind him, Vigdis was pulling his sword from the body of a Nādhir, his pale face dripping cold rain.
I threw my weight forward, running as I pulled the Svell sword from my sheath. He pivoted as the blade came down and the blow missed, catching the handle instead. I flung it back, swinging again, and the corner grazed his neck. A trail of blood spilled down over his throat, soaking into his tunic. He pressed the heel of one hand into it to stanch the bleeding and brought the sword back up, charging toward me. I caught hold of his arm, swinging him around me, and we both fell, slamming into the wide trunk of a tree.
The sword left my hand and I scrambled to my feet, coming over him before he could stand. I kicked into his side and he fell back down, groaning as he rocked onto his back, panting.
He looked up at me, his hand still pressed to the bleeding wound.
I picked up the axe, looking into his eyes. I wanted him to know it was me. I wanted him to take the memory with him to the afterlife. For the shame of it to follow him for eternity. I lifted the axe over my head, ready to bring it down, and as I pulled the breath into my chest, I froze.
The sound of a scream cut through the chaos, finding me. A voice I knew.
Eelyn.
I spun around, searching the tangle of bodies for her. She was on the ground, a Svell woman bringing her sword up with both hands.
“No!” I screamed, running as every light in the forest flickered out, only the sound of Eelyn’s cries echoing in my head.
The sword came down as Eelyn bucked and it sank into her shoulder, piercing through her flesh and finding the earth. She howled, taking the woman’s hair into her fist as she lifted the sword again. I took a wide step, raising the axe above my head, and threw it, my fingers sliding from the wet handle with my heart in my throat.
The sword dropped from her hand as she lurched backward and she looked down with wide eyes at the axe buried in her chest.
Eelyn sat up, taking the knife from the grass behind her and driving it into her side.
The woman dropped, sliding in the mud, and I got down onto my knees, pulling Eelyn into me.
“I’m alright,” she said, but the words were broken on the growl in her throat. The opening in her shoulder was wide, the blood flowing in a steady stream down her armor. Her face was already going white.
Her arms wrapped around my neck as I lifted her from the ground and I set her back on her feet before I shoved her forward, toward an opening in the line. Behind us, Fiske and Iri were taking down a Svell and Mýra was running back into the fray.
I turned in a circle, searching for the Nādhir leathers. The ground was already covered in bodies, the Svell scattered in every direction. The clearing was illuminated with lightning behind us, where the rest of our warriors waited.
But when I turned back, Vigdis was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
TOVA
A crack of lightning lit the sky as I pulled the bow from my shoulders and ran. The deep groan of the storm rolling in from the sea unleashed the rain and it fell in thick sheets as everyone took off.
I threw one foot in front of the other as warriors passed me, their weapons raised in the air, and I pulled an arrow from my back, nocking it in one motion. I found the first Svell in my sights in the distance and let it fly. My feet slid to a stop and the Nādhir ran around me like a stone in the river. I watched the arrow pull up into the air before it tipped back down and struck the woman in the chest. She fell back, the sword flying from her hand, and the two men behind her crashed to the earth.
I turned in a circle, searching for Halvard, but he was gone, lost in the horde that filled the forest.
Everything blurred and smeared in the haze as I wiped the rain from my eyes, the sound of war cries exploding in every direction. The storm billowed in from the sea, stronger every second. When I spotted an outcropping of boulders in the distance, I ran for it. My boots splashed in the mud as I wound around tangled clansmen, headed for the buried, moss-covered rocks. A man locked eyes with me as I passed, lunging for me, and I swung the bow back, catching him in the jaw with its end. His head whipped to the side and he faltered before a Nādhir barreled into him and they both fell, skidding over the pine needles.
I made it to the outcropping and pulled myself up over the top with sliding hands, looking down from the vantage point to see the battle stretching through the trees. I pulled another arrow from the quiver at my back, steadying myself on my knees, and sighted down the length of it for the group of Svell breaking the Nādhir line. I listened to the sound of the turning wind like Gunther taught me, measuring the arrow’s path before I let my fingers slip from the string with a pop. The shot stru
ck the shoulder of a man running toward the opening, then another, the rock anchoring below me and my breath keeping my heart from exploding in my chest.
I loosed arrow after arrow, dropping Svell as they ran. But the bow stilled in my hand, my fingers softening on the fletching when I saw a cart behind the back rows of the Svell army in the distance. It was piled high with small wooden barrels. Just like the one Jorrund had used for the stave.
And as if the Spinners wanted me to see it, a sudden flash of lightning lit one face in the fray that I recognized.
Halvard.
He plowed into a woman with a sword, knocking her down as another Nādhir plunged their blade into her chest. When he stood, his face was carved with shadows in the dim light. His brother tossed him an axe and he caught it, turning until his arm was swinging out around him to clip another Svell in the arm. The man cried out, toppling backward and Halvard finished him with one blow before he ran for the Nādhir line, where the Svell were making headway toward the edge of the forest.
They were already close. Too close.
“Halvard!” I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the thunder. He was too far away.
A woman broke through two men fighting and followed after him, darting through the battle on his heels. She let her axe sink back behind her, ready to throw it, and my mouth dropped open, another scream trapped in my throat.
I didn’t think. I pulled an arrow from my back and lifted my bow. The wind was swirling back and forth, the rain shifting with it. I nocked the arrow and stretched the string back with a steady hand. The calm fell over me, quieting the sounds of the lightning, and I closed my eyes, letting out a long, hot breath. I searched for the sound of the forest before me. The sea behind me. The storm overhead. I watched the route of the arrow in my mind.
And as another strike of lightning cracked open the darkness, I sent it into the air.
The turn of the shaft glowed like a spinning flame across the forest and it sank into the back of her shoulder. She flew forward with the force of the hit and Halvard turned, staring at the arrow in the woman’s back before his gaze lifted, searching the forest until his eyes found me.
“The cart!” I pointed toward the Svell’s line, screaming into the wind.
I threw my feet out, sliding down the rocks until my boots hit the ground, and took off, jumping over the fallen bodies as I pulled another arrow free.
Halvard took hold of the knife at his belt and he shouted my name as he threw it over my head. I ducked, toppling forward, and I hit the ground so hard that it knocked the breath from my lungs.
A man crashed into the mud behind me, Halvard’s knife buried in his chest. He coughed blood as I pulled it free and got back to my feet. The forest turned darker with the furs and leathers of the Svell and Nādhir, the pelt of rain hitting the dead and dying as Halvard reached me, his breath fogging in the cold. All around us, Nādhir warriors were being cut down, the Svell pushing farther toward the tree line with every second that passed. Any moment, they’d be tearing down the hill to the village.
“The cart!” I shouted again.
But he didn’t understand. I took the quiver from my back and pushed it into his hands with the bow before I took his axe.
“What are you doing?” He looked at the bow, confused.
“I’m mending it,” I shouted.
His eyes lifted over my head, to the Svell line. “You’ll be dead before you reach it.”
I smiled, lifting a hand to touch a cut beneath his eye, wiping at the blood with my fingertips. They were so blue. And still, they looked right into me, moving over my face until I could see my own reflection in them. I wanted to remember them. I wanted them to be the last thing I saw.
“I’ve been dead for most of my life, Halvard,” I whispered.
He reached out, but I stepped back before he could touch me.
I turned on my heel and ran for the cart behind the thinning warriors in the distance, the axe heavy in my hands. A man ran at me from the side and I pushed faster, trying to get there before he did. But I wasn’t fast enough. He took two steps before he collided with me and an arrow struck him in the chest, sending him backward.
I jumped over him, my arms pumping at my sides, and another man steered to head me off, an axe lifting over his head. Another arrow soared over me, dropping him in my path, and I looked back over my shoulder to see Halvard, my bow in his hands. He pulled another arrow from his back and I threw every bit of strength I had left forward as the land tipped down toward the cart.
I lifted myself over the rail and landed inside, heaving. The storm was beginning to quell, the rain softening, as I took a barrel of pitch up into my arms and threw it to the ground.
“Tova.”
My hands froze on the next barrel and I could feel his stare landing hard on me before I looked up. Jorrund stood in soaked robes among the fallen bodies at the back of the Svell line, a torch in his hand. They were pushing the Nādhir back blow by blow, shortening the distance to the hill.
“Tova!” he screamed as I jumped from the cart.
The sound of Hylli’s horn blared in the distance, signaling that the first of the Svell had broken through the trees. Time was running out.
Jorrund’s voice echoed out again, but when I looked up, it was Vigdis who marched toward me, pushing through the back wall of warriors. In the next instant, his knife was swinging wide, catching me in the arm. I fell backward as he came over me, finding the tear in my sleeve with my fingers. Before he could bring the knife down, I rolled to my side, covering my head with my hands. The blade ripped into my other arm, the edge of the iron hitting the bone, and I cried out.
I tried to kick myself back toward the cart and Vigdis stilled suddenly, his tall frame towering over me. I stared up at him, both my hands pressing to the wounds in my arms and he turned, looking over his shoulder. My eyes went wide as the gleaming hilt of a knife came into view, buried in the back of Vigdis’ armor vest. He reached behind him and tore it out, turning. And there, standing with the cold rain running over his leathers, Gunther stood, his face covered with a smear of blood.
With one quick motion, Vigdis swung his arm out in an arc, the blade slicing Gunther’s throat in a clean line. I sat up, the cry trapped in my chest as the blood spilled. He fell to his knees and I lifted my eyes to the sky, swallowing down the nausea burning in my throat. He landed at my feet with a heavy thud, his hand open beside me. The talisman I’d given him was tied around his wrist.
Vigdis leaned into the cart, grasping for the wound at his back, but it was no use. The blood poured out in a thick, steady stream and after only seconds, his movements slowed, the grunt in his throat turning to a gurgle.
The moment he stopped moving, the rain stopped falling. I looked up to the gray sky, blinking. Because I knew what would be there. The nighthawk circled against the clouds, tilting in the wind.
I rocked forward onto my knees and lifted Halvard’s axe over my head. The pain in my arms erupted as I brought the blade down with a crack, splintering the wood of the barrel. Jorrund still stood without moving, his mouth hanging open as I picked it up, and I snatched the torch from his hand, pushing past him. I broke through the Svell, racing toward the edge of the forest.
The barrel tipped under my arm, and I let the pitch pour onto the ground as I ran the full length of the Nādhir line. It filled puddles, soaking into the earth, and when it was empty, I dropped it. Halvard appeared before the Nādhir, shouting orders over the strike of lightning, and I stood, waiting, as they moved into position, leaving the Svell in the trees.
Halvard’s eyes found me in the chaos, and for a moment, my heart stopped beating. “Now!”
I dropped the torch at my feet.
The flame slithered away from me, shifting in the wind before the morning lit up in an amber glow. A wall of fire ignited before the tree line, the flames reaching taller than me. The Svell scrambled backward and the Nādhir followed. It was all they needed. Just a moment. A breat
h.
And they took it.
Halvard’s brother ran past me, leaving a trail of Svell in his wake as he made his way toward Halvard. He pulled a shield up from the ground and dropped it onto the flames, creating a break in the fire, and then another.
“Go!” he roared, throwing an arm forward, and the rest of the Nādhir waiting on the slope charged. They flooded into the forest, pushing Svell back and chasing down the running warriors. Past the flames, I could see Jorrund standing over Vigdis’ body, the hem of his robes heavy with mud.
Hot tears filled my eyes as I watched him, thinking he suddenly seemed so small. The man who’d raised me. Cared for me. Taught me. He’d lied and he’d used me. But he was the only father I remembered.
I opened my mouth to call out his name, but my words were cut off by the blare of the horn below. It blew in three short wails and the fighting slowed, every face in the forest turning to Hylli.
But what was there lay beyond the beach.
On the sea.
Boats as far as the eye could see were coming out of the black storm on the water. The horn blew again as they multiplied and white square sails appeared like a swirl of stars in a night sky. Lightning struck the beach and the deafening crack rang in my ears, making me feel like I was going to fall to the earth. I leaned into the nearest tree, my eyes on the water, where the carved heads of Naðr on wooden prows pushed across the water like an army of sea serpents.
The Kyrr.
CHAPTER THIRTY
HALVARD
I stood before the flames, the axe heavy in my hands as the Nādhir marched into the trees, pushing the Svell back. The burn of smoke in my throat raked as I turned in a circle, searching the forest for my brothers.
The Girl the Sea Gave Back Page 20