Lord of the Mountains

by Sabrina Jarema

  Eirik had moved so fast, he’d slain three of the bastards before those in the back had even skidded to a stop. Asa darted around a large man faster than he could turn to face her, and buried her blade in the back of his neck. She followed Eirik through the melee.

  Teeth bared in a savage smile, Kaia was like a lethal storm. Her eyes blazed as she parried a sword strike, then sliced her opponent across the stomach. With a backswing, she cut his throat as he fell. She left him and leaped on the back of another, reached around, and gutted him. Her scream matched his.

  Magnus’s warriors finished the rest of them off. The shrieks of the dying outcasts echoed off the mountain above. As the others checked the bodies, Magnus surveyed the slaughter. That was the only word for it. His men were, for the most part, uninjured. They had a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing requiring Ingeborg’s skills.

  “There were twelve of them.” Leif sheathed his sword as he walked over.

  “Fourteen.” Nuallen emerged from the trees. “I killed two. The others stumbled across the bodies. When they found no marks on them, they panicked and ran. They shouted about the landvaettir being after them. As I understand your beliefs, those land spirits are offended by violence.” He gave a wry look at the carnage around them. “I think this qualifies. We may be in trouble.”

  “The landvaettir are offended by men such as these. I’m protecting my side of the mountain. These are outcasts, and it is my right to slay them, as it is the right of any who come across them.” Magnus nodded to his men. “Get their weapons, then leave the bodies for the wolves. When they don’t return to Bygvik, Toke will know what happened.”

  He wiped his sword on the shirt of one of the fallen men, then sheathed it. It was fortunate that the woman and her son had reached Thorsfjell. If this group had found them, Fastny and Jarpi never would have made it back to Bygvik. Nor would their deaths have been easy or quick. He clenched his jaw.

  It was unfortunate timing, though. Now that Silvi had seen what trouble lay here, she might be even more against marrying him than she already was. And yet, didn’t warfare and rivalry exist everywhere? She must know that. She was the daughter and sister of warriors, but would she consent to being the wife of one?

  She’d aided the boy while maintaining his pride, and had comforted the mother. It was her nature. Her beauty and calm strength had soothed them, a great gift to such wounded hearts. She’d acted just as jarl’s wife should. Seeing her compassion and innate wisdom made him even more determined to make Silvi his. He wasn’t the only one who needed her. His village did, as well. She’d answered the needs of two lost people this day. Would she answer the call of Thorsfjell?

  He looked up through the trees to the mountain. There was one place where she could see into the very center of all they were. If that called to her, then with her tenderness and kindness toward all hurting things, surely she would answer.

  * * *

  “Magnus, where are we going?” Silvi breathed hard as she climbed the path winding toward the peak of the mountain the next day. The village lay below them, though she couldn’t see it any longer.

  “Just a little farther. I promise, it will be worth it.” He held out his hand to her, but she ignored it and kept walking. If this was just a way to get her alone, then no, it would not be worth it.

  She eyed him as he passed her again and led the way. He walked with the confidence of a warrior, at home in this world and in his own body. His long dark hair flowed down his back, streaming behind him in the wind that had picked up. A storm was coming, but he had assured her they would be back before it hit. She wasn’t concerned. The gods walked in storms.

  The path flattened out and they were on level ground. Magnus led her through a stand of trees and into a clearing. Energy, subtle yet unmistakable, climbed up her body and she stilled.

  “This is your sacred grove, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I thought you might enjoy seeing it.”

  Rune stones circled the place, some very, very old and weathered. To her right, one was brightly colored, taller than the others, and appeared new. The carving of Yggdrasil looked familiar. She went to it and placed her hand on it, bending to read the inscription:

  Eirik carved these runes for Magnus, Leif, and Asa in honor of their father, Sigrund. He went east in search of gold. On the way back from Miklagard he died in the Aifur with his sword in his hand. May Thor consecrate these runes.

  “Your brother made this during the past winter while he was here, to thank us for allowing him to stay. Our old rune master didn’t have the strength to make one for our father. It means a great deal to us, that he will be remembered for hundreds of years to come.”

  She ran her fingers along the carved symbols. “I recognized his style. He’s going to make one in remembrance of our father to set in our sacred grove at Haardvik.”

  She turned away from it to look behind her and all the breath left her body. A world of white stretched beyond the mountain. Several trees had blocked the view as she’d entered the grove, but from this angle, she could see a vastness she couldn’t comprehend. She glanced at Magnus and he smiled.

  “It’s the tundra. It runs the interior of our land. The glaciers lie there as well. Go take a closer look.”

  He walked slightly behind her as she moved toward the gap in the trees. When she passed beyond them, she stood on a cliff with the world opened up before her. Below them, trees still grew. But farther north, they thinned until the land turned white with snow. It stretched forever. The storm roiled over it all, the black clouds shadowing the ice, melding with it in the distance until it all blended into one. There was no horizon. A stiff wind blew her skirt back hard against her legs, bringing with it the promise of ice.

  She closed her eyes and breathed in the storm.

  “So beautiful.” Magnus’s voice brought her back. But he wasn’t looking at the tundra. He was looking at her. She couldn’t meet his eyes and he cleared his throat.

  “The stories come down to us from our ancestors,” he said. “The gods move across the tundra in the storms. They come here to rest for a time in this grove before continuing on their way. That’s why we keep this view clear, so they may see where to stop. Of course, it’s only an old tale.”

  “They’re still here. In this place, in this storm. I felt it as soon as I stepped into the grove. Don’t you feel them? They are coming, even now.” She tilted her chin up and spread her arms slightly away from her body. At his silence, she lowered her arms and regarded him. “You don’t feel it, do you? Not even here. You didn’t at Haardvik either.”

  He remained silent for a time, as though he wasn’t going to answer her. He shifted his gaze back to the tundra. When he spoke, his voice was low. “I haven’t in a very long time. No one knows it. Not even Leif.” He didn’t glance at her.

  “Then when you make the sacrifices and perform the rituals—”

  “I go through the motions. I feel none of it.”

  She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “Why are you telling me, if no one else knows it?”

  “I need . . .” He drew a deep breath. “I need someone to intercede with them. To help my people where I cannot.”

  “You brought me here, hoping I’d fall in love with this place.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you showed me around Thorsfjell yesterday, wanting me to love the people there.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re spending this time with me, why? So I’ll fall in love with you?”

  “I think it may be a bit soon for that.” Humor colored his voice and he turned to her only then. “I wanted to bring you here so you could see the great temple isn’t the only place that holds power. You can find the gods you love here as well.”

  That was certainly true. Energy buzzed beneath her skin; power still rode on the winds. She wanted to drink it in. “How many longships did Eirik offer you for my dowry?”

  Admiration shone in his eyes. “Three.”

  “Th
at’s generous. What else?”

  “The warriors to crew them until I find my own.”

  “And?”

  “The gold to support them until my trade routes expand. Which they will. Quickly.”

  “You must want them very badly to consider this.”

  “Make no mistake, Silvi. I need those ships. You know it and you know why, so I won’t offend you by lying. All my life, I’ve thought of nothing except the welfare of my people. My father taught it to me when I was very young and it has always driven me.” He took a step closer to her until he looked down into her eyes. “The ships, the warriors, the gold, are for my people. But just this once, there’s something I desire for myself.”

  Her breath came hard as she gazed up at him. He seemed elemental, a part of the land and the storm. But then, he had been born here and his blood had run into the mountain to protect it.

  “What do you want for yourself, Magnus?”

  “I want this.” He leaned toward her and took her upper arms in his hands. He was so gentle that she could have stepped away. She didn’t. He feathered his lips across hers, his hair brushing her cheek. Deep within, her body opened up. She’d thought the land had given its power to her, but it was nothing compared to his kiss. Her hands tingled with the need to touch him, to feel his strength. A shiver passed through her as warmth spread into her thighs. She let out a long sigh, and he took her breath into himself.

  He lifted his head, his gaze intense. “This is what I want for myself. You. You must have known it from the first time I saw you at Haardvik.”

  “I think your people may be getting the better part of this arrangement.” She’d seen him watching her. His desire had shone in his eyes. Men often admired her, for they saw only her pale beauty. But once they understood the way she was, they turned away.

  Magnus hadn’t turned away.

  She looked up at the storm above them, anywhere but into his eyes. “Has the handsal taken place yet?”

  He let go of her arms. “Eirik and I have finalized our agreement, but we haven’t done so in front of six witnesses yet. I wanted to speak to you first, give you time to know me, my people, my village. I didn’t think we’d speak of it here, now.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t know what my brother and mother were about by bringing me here?” Anger rose in her, hot and bitter. How could they betray her like this? “You all schemed and planned and are very pleased with yourselves, but you forgot one tiny detail. This is my life as well. Have I no say? Do none of you care what I want?”

  “I care. Very much. That’s why I’m doing all this. To give you a chance to understand and to agree.”

  “If you care what I want, then leave me to my gods and my visions.”

  The wind drove hard into her and she staggered. He reached out to help her, but she stepped away. The clouds descended, swirling around them, and the storm settled into her, sparking in her mind. She ran into the grove, coming to a stop in the center. Her hair whipped around her as the tempest caressed her.

  Closing her eyes, she threw back her head and sought the safety of her island. She called the vision and it came. The seas were white with foam while a storm passed overhead. The winds within her collided with the gale on the mountain. But the island was gone.

  She cried out, searching for it. The winds only pushed her away, and she stood in the grove once again. What did it mean? Why was it gone? Had Magnus driven it from her with his desire? Had the gods found her unworthy and left her because she was not going to follow them in the temple?

  She opened her eyes as Magnus stepped in front of her. He ran a hand through his hair. “I told Eirik I wouldn’t take you unless you agreed.”

  “Then don’t take me.” She spun and ran back down the path toward the village. Magnus followed close to her.

  “Don’t run, Silvi. It’s too steep. You could be killed.”

  Perhaps that would be best. Then she truly would be where she belonged. Away from this world and at Folkvang with the goddess Freya, for virgins as well as warriors went there to dwell with her. Magnus grabbed her from behind and swung her around to face him. She stared at him in shock. No one had ever handled her so strongly before.

  “Don’t risk yourself like this. If anything happened to you—”

  “You wouldn’t get your ships. I know. And we couldn’t have that, now could we?”

  “Didn’t you hear what I told you up there? Didn’t my kiss tell you anything? Don’t my feelings mean anything to you?”

  She wrenched her arm free. “They mean as much as mine do to you. Just leave me be.”

  He followed her all the way to Thorsfjell, but he didn’t try to stop her again. At home, she knew places, secret places, where she could go to be alone. But not here. She didn’t know the lands well enough yet and she couldn’t return to the grove.

  A storm was coming, both within her and without, and she had no safe harbor to escape it.

  Chapter Five

  When Silvi entered the longhouse, Lifa was sitting with a group of women at one of the tables, Nuallen at the next one with Leif. Silvi went to the room she shared with her mother and shut the door. The brazier was still lit. Someone had added more wood to it, most likely one of the servant girls. She sank down into a chair near it and held her shaking hands out to the warm glow.

  How could she fight this? Should she even try? Most women accepted the husbands their fathers or brothers picked for them and made the best of it. Eirik could, by right, force her to marry. But would he?

  The door opened and she looked up, half expecting to see Magnus. It was Lifa. She closed the door quietly and sat down in the other chair near the brazier.

  “Magnus told you.”

  Of course she would know what happened. “Yes. Not that I didn’t suspect it to begin with.”

  “I’m certain you did.”

  “The island is gone.” She’d told her mother of the visions since the first time she’d seen them when she was a child. “When I was in the grove just now, I tried to see it, to keep me focused on my destiny, but the sea was empty.”

  Lifa gave her a sharp look. “Why do you think that is?”

  “Because all of you have dragged me away from it. The gods see that I’m weak and am not standing up to you. I’m not worthy of them.”

  “I see. Have you considered that your island may not be Uppsala? That it might mean something else altogether?”

  She frowned in confusion. “What else is there, Mother?”

  “That’s what I mean. You’ve focused so hard on that one possibility, you’ve never considered any other. Not in your vision and not in your life.”

  Her head swam. “The gods gave me this desire from the start. It’s everything I’ve known. Now all of you would drag me from the path they laid before me.”

  “It’s the only path you see because you have always refused to lift your head to see any other. The Norns dictate when we each will die, but until then, we live as we choose. The gods may place a path before us, but there are always forks in it and it is up to us which one we take. The gods have put Magnus before you three times. It must mean something.”

  “I think you and Eirik have something to do with the second time, Mother. There was Haardvik and now.”

  “You saw him in a vision before he came to Haardvik. You said he traveled on the back of a dragon and his blood mingled with yours.”

  “That was only because I cleaned his wounds. He bled on the ground while I did so.”

  “Silvi, look at me.”

  She raised her eyes to her mother’s.

  “Tell me right now that you’re not attracted to him and I’ll take you to Uppsala myself.”

  Cold, like the winds from the glaciers, spread through her. It was hard to find her breath and she opened her mouth. If she just said the words . . .

  She couldn’t. Lifa would know she didn’t speak the truth. She’d never have made the challenge unless she already knew the answer. Silvi set her jaw and l
ooked back into the fire.

  “I thought so. He is a fine man. He’ll make a good husband for you.”

  “If I were looking for a husband.”

  Lifa sighed. “In spite of your years, you’re still so young. You haven’t lived yet.” She leaned back in the chair. “If you go to the temple and become a hóvgythiur, what do you think the people who come to you would ask you?”

  Silvi shook her head. She’d never thought that far.

  “It won’t be why some stars move and others don’t. Or how to best color the runes. Or why the moon turns to blood at times. Those things are the questions of priests and kings. No, a wife will ask you how she can convince the gods to give her a child. A man will want to know which market he should go to this year to get the best prices. A young man will ask how he can get a girl at a nearby village to notice him. How will you know the answers?”

  “The gods will tell me.”

  “The gods are often busy with other things.”

  Silvi stared at her mother. That was so similar to what Magnus had said to her at Haardvik.

  “You must have the answers to the questions of life,” her mother said. “And to know them, you must live them. Being at Uppsala is not retreating from the world. It is helping others live in it. You must understand it better than they do. That’s why the young initiates travel with the older völur on their journeys, like I did. So that they’ll learn and grow.”

  “They don’t stay there?”

  “No. We traveled in a group throughout the north. Unn, the völva who guided us, was so respected, we didn’t need to fear anything or anyone. She was higher placed than even the jarls. Kings would rise from their seats in their halls so she could sit there. We traveled for months, seeing other peoples, other lands. And that’s when we came to a village called Haardvik.”

  “You met Father there.”

  “Yes. I saw him and he was so handsome and fine. I think I fell in love with him then. But I was already an initiate. I knew what I wanted in life.”