by A. J. Adams
He handed me a dish straight from paradise, and then he looked at me closely. “A vision?”
“How the hell did you do that? I’ve only known you ten minutes!”
“It’s your eyes. They shimmer.” Siv paused and added, “We’re Skraeling. We have a connection.”
I ignored it. “I only saw the Patriarch preaching. The Lady is warning me to be careful.”
“You should get away from him.”
“My place is here, Siv.”
“Then let me kill him.”
“No!”
Almost instantly a wave of furious anger laced with bafflement hit me. I wasn’t up to explaining again that murder is wrong, so I deflected him. “Amazing pancakes.”
The emotions didn’t lessen one jot, but he nodded. “Thanks.”
“Take a swig of the green tonic afterwards. It’s comfrey, good for healing bones.”
“Okay, but they’re almost healed.” The blue eyes were friendly. “I’ll do some stretching, get my strength back.”
I rolled my eyes, taking in the rippling muscle under the very tight tunic. “Right, because being more ripped than bulls isn’t good enough for Skraeling warriors.”
“You got it,” Siv deadpanned. But underneath I caught a current of laughter.
So there we were, snapping and snarling at each other one moment, and nice and friendly the next. And that’s how it was for five long difficult days. Yes, I said five. It bucketed down with rain, so much so that the river was practically coming up over the stoop.
“I should go,” Siv said every morning.
“Don’t be daft. Even fish think it’s too wet,” I’d say.
“Have you seen anything of my people?”
His hunger was naked, and I felt awful every time as I said, “Not yet. I’m sorry.”
But he was determinedly courteous. “Nobody can force the goddess, vala.”
The Beast stayed, and we continued our tumultuous liaison, up one moment and down the next. I didn’t mind the scrapping, but being overwhelmed by his emotions was exhausting. I’d not lived in close proximity with people since I left the Lady Divine. Also, the sisters were calm and peaceful, not maelstroms of violence and passion. I was fully aware of his alternating lust and fury. Although it was tempered by steely self-control, it still strung out my own emotions.
When the bulk of the water finally went back to the river where it belonged, I took a look outside and decided it was time. “The smith will have plenty of sickles. I’ll pick out a nice sharp one.”
Siv’s interest peaked at the mention of a weapon but he was being annoyingly thoughtful again. “The water’s still high. I don’t really need a sickle. A knife will do.”
“I often walk through flooded fields, and in winter there’s snow that’s higher.”
I left him in the lodge, tending the fire, and I went to the village. The path was flooded in many places but not impassable. By the time I got there, though, I was muddy to my knees, and Saga was wet through.
The fields were empty, which was a little odd, and when I walked past the cottages, they were empty, too. By the time I got to the square, I was seriously worried. Then I heard voices raised in chanting prayer. They were all in the village hall.
I went in, Saga at my heel, expecting a thanksgiving ceremony. What I found was a prayer circle standing around Theta, Diana and Roseleena, all three women white-faced and thin. Fowler and Morg the chandler were there too, looking grim.
The prayer was ending with some of the children singing, “I Will Serve in Ullr’s Glorious Hall” while Courtney was hovering solicitously and singing along off-key as always.
The children stopped as soon as they spotted me, and to my surprise, they all scuttled away. Then there was a dead silence. A thick, accusing kind of silence. I was instantly enveloped in a wave of distrust, fear, and anger.
“Freyja’s grace!” I was totally taken aback. “What’s going on?”
“Bliss, you’re all right?” Courtney came over, a strange expression in his eyes.
“Of course I am. The lodge has a high foundation, thankfully out of the river’s reach. But what’s going on here?”
“Theta, Roseleena and Diana fell ill on the day of the storm.”
“They were fine when I saw them.” I was shaking off my cloak, getting ready to see to the girls, when I felt that silence again.
“Yes, they mentioned you visited them all.”
I just stared at him. “Is it a crime to visit people?”
“You were angry with them. Diana said you were shouting almost.”
“Yes, but—”
Fowler was sticking out in jaw aggressively. “Did you curse my Theta?”
I just gawped at him. “Are you crazy? Me? I would never do that!”
“So you admit you could?”
“No!”
They were all staring. It was terrifying. A flash of the Patriarch shouting, “Suffer not a witch to live!” came charging back into mind.
“Now wait a minute!” I stood tall, using my most imposing tones. “I’m a child of Freyja!”
“But you’re part Beast!” Fowler snapped.
“Seeing the one in the village turned her,” someone behind me said.
“Right, it awoke the animal in her,” I heard.
“Have you all gone mad?” I yelled. “What a load of horse manure!”
“Now Bliss, just calm down.” Courtney was trying to take charge. “If you say you had nothing to do with this, then we believe you.”
“I don’t want her near my Theta,” Fowler growled.
“You’re crazy!” I said. “It’s probably the flood. Remember last year when the overflow swept manure into the well, and we all got sick?”
“That’s true,” Morg said slowly.
“But we didn’t all get sick this time,” Fowler pointed out.
“Everyone is okay? No fevers, chills or upset tummies?”
“Well, Smith is feverish, and little Bella is poorly,” Courtney said. “Old Mother Bess, too.”
“See, it’s spreading!” Fowler exclaimed. “Curses spread!”
Fear, thick and suffocating, rose from the villagers watching me. They were scared, dangerously afraid.
“So does disease,” I reminded them sharply. “Have you been boiling the water properly?”
“Yes,” Fowler said.
“No,” Morg corrected him. “You know some of the women take shortcuts.”
Because the men sat on their backsides, too lazy to lift a finger, while the women worked themselves to exhaustion. I didn’t say so, though. I was thinking of those bad futures. The Patriarch was setting me up as a scapegoat. I had to tread carefully.
“Well, let’s see who’s got what,” I didn’t give them time to think. “Little Bella first.”
I marched to the beds, and after a second, Courtney, Fowler and the others came with me. As I suspected, all of them had the same symptoms: diarrhoea, chills, dehydration, and fever.
“Probably bad water, but it might be food poisoning too,” I said. “Seeing they’ve been purging, it will probably get better by itself in a day or so more, but some charcoal pills and my red tonic will help.”
As I talked, I felt the fear recede.
“The red tonic always helps me,” Courtney said.
“And we will seek blessings from the Lady,” at that the atmosphere lightened again. “Freyja protects us against evil,” I added, and thankfully felt the darkness recede even more.
“The Patriarch gave us holy water and told us to say special prayers,” Diana said. “I’m feeling better.”
“He was here?” My vision had warned me. All those foul accusations came from him.
“He was visiting me when the flood hit,” Courtney said. “The Patriarch has been a rock, blessing water for the girls to drink, running special prayers, and ministering personally to them. He left only yesterday afternoon.”
I felt my stomach knot with tension. Cooped up togethe
r and with me away, the Patriarch had spent a week poisoning the village against me.
“He even went out in the flood to find us flowers.” Diana pointed to some pretty blue lobelia. “To remind us of the beauty Ullr gives us.”
The bastard. Spreading poison and pretending to be holy. Maybe Siv was right. Maybe I should’ve let him kill him. Certainly the world would be a better place without him.
“Did he? How nice.” The right words, but they came out like ice.
Courtney was shuffling his feet, looking guilty. “You think they’ll get better?”
“Of course. It’s just like last year.” I handed over a bottle of red tonic. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll bring some fennel tea. It will soothe the stomach cramps.”
“Thank you.”
“Freyja loves us. She gives us the herbs that heal. I’m just her instrument.” I’d said it a thousand times but now my words floated in the air, and everyone was looking super shifty.
I didn’t want to stay any longer. I’d grown up with these people, I’d tended their hurts, and they had been happy to believe I was a monster, just because the Patriarch told them so. They sickened me.
“Bliss—”
Courtney was definitely feeling guilty, but I was tired and angry.
“Tomorrow. Come on, Saga. Let’s go home.”
I marched back, detouring only to look in at Fowler’s cottage. The well looked fine but then again, water needn’t smell foul to be dangerous. By the look of the ground, I couldn’t tell if the flood had spilled into the well or not.
What I did do was pick up a scythe from Fowler’s barn. Scythes are cheap, being easy to make. He’d not miss it as he had three. He’d just think one had been swept away. Also, and it was small of me, I was still mad at him for thinking I could hurt Theta.
By the time I got home, I’d walked off most of my anger. Siv was inside, and by the scent coming from the kitchen, he’d been cooking again. The air was perfumed with promise, but by the hard eyes, he was still mad at me for rejecting him.
I handed him the scythe. “Here, with this and my knife, will you be okay?”
“Yes.” He put down the spoon. “This will be ready in an hour.”
“It smells like heaven.”
He ignored the opening. “I packed some bread and smoked meat.”
So he was going. It really was for the best. I looked him over. He was almost better, the bruises were gone and the cuts properly healed, but those ribs were still fragile, being newly healed. They had to be used carefully.
Gazing down the broad chest, almost splitting the tunic, and the repaired leathers, I realised something else was missing, “Ohmigod, you don’t have boots!”
“I’ll be fine.” He wouldn’t even look at me. He was hurt that I hadn’t changed my mind, that I wouldn’t go with him. “Goodbye, Bliss.”
“You’re leaving now? Why don’t you wait till morning?”
“I’ll go now.” He patted Saga. “Goodbye, Saga.”
“But Siv!” Suddenly there was a lump in my throat. “Don’t go like this! Please!”
The eyes came right up. “You’ve changed your mind?”
I saw her face again. Lizbeth. Terrified. Instinctively I stepped back. Words failed me.
Siv’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”
And then he was walking out. I just stood there, drowning in emotion. Sadness, guilt, and relief all flowed into each other. Then Saga whined, bringing me back to the present. She liked the Beast, and I realised I couldn’t let him go like that.
I rushed to the door and ran out. He was moving fast through the trees, but when Saga barked, he turned. I waved, calling, “Be safe!” He paused a second, and then raised his arm in a salute. Then he was gone.
Saga was upset, but I knew it was for the best. “He’s dangerous, Saga. Lethal.” But honest, I reminded myself. And fair. In fact, he’s much nicer than Durwyn, who’d never free Helga, his thrall, and a million times nicer than the duke who thinks only of power. Siv had also accepted my talents, something I wasn’t sure anyone else would, ever.
As I stood there, I wondered if I’d made a serious mistake. Maybe the Skraeling would have taken me in as one of their own. Maybe I was wrong to try and make it in Salvation. A lifetime hadn’t been enough to make me part of the village. But I had seen the Beast’s past, felt the violence coursing through him.
I petted Saga again. “It would have led to a life of violence for both of us. I’m certain of it.”
Even so, the lodge felt empty. I checked my stock of red tonic, and saw the stew Siv had made. Smoked venison with potatoes and greens. Delicious.
As I spooned it into a bowl, Bygul and Trigul came in, looking pleased with themselves. “I guess you want shares, too.” Of course they did.
We sat in front of the fire, and then I was flying over the ocean, heading towards the island. This time I was speeding towards a single future, and it was dominated by fire.
“Witch! Burn her! Burn the witch!”
It was the Patriarch, screaming as the lodge was flaming in the night. I could see men with him, but their faces were in shadow. The spears, clubs, and swords they carried weren’t.
“Burn her!” Courtney, streaked with ash. “Kill the treacherous bitch!”
I could hear desperate howling from inside the lodge. “They’re inside! I cried. “Saga! Bygul! Trigul!” There was a howl, Saga leapt, and then I was screaming as she went down under the cudgels.
“Beast! Filthy Beast!” A glimpse of rotting teeth, and then a sword came down at me.
I found myself on the floor, crying my eyes out while the animals sat around me, pawing me gently as they tried to figure out what was wrong with me.
“I don’t understand,” I told Saga as she nosed my hand. “What could do this? Surely the Patriarch can’t just talk them into murderous hatred? What set them off? They can’t have found out about Siv? He’s gone already!”
I tried to go back, to see alternatives, but every other branch was blocked. I looked and looked again, but the future was the same. My home in flames, riders all around me, Saga going down, and the Patriarch and Courtney screaming for my death.
One thing stood out. The ground was soaked, the puddles still high from the flood. This future was near, too near for comfort. “Sweet Freyja, help me!” I petitioned with all my heart but I got nothing. “I guess you’ve given me a hint and now it’s up to me,” I said to the Lady. “Should I have gone with the Beast?”
But that was madness. Going with him meant a life of violence. I’d be better off as a thrall in Brighthelme. At least then I’d be with my own people. Kind of. In my mind, I heard the whispers, “Beast! She’s a Beast!”
For a moment, I wanted to lie down and weep, but that wouldn’t help me. Also, in my vision Saga had died, and only the Lady knew where the cats had been, or would be. Seeing the future as a memory made grammar a real puzzler, but one thing was for sure, “I’m not letting anyone hurt you, Saga! Or you, Bygul and Trigul!”
If trouble were coming, then the sensible move was to be away. “We’ll go to the cliffs,” I told the animals. “The caves will give us shelter. Then I can think and maybe we can see a way out of this.”
My cart was already loaded with essential medicines. I quickly tossed in some potted meat, bread, and blankets. It was work that took minutes, but as I ran around the lodge, the sun went down. A wind sprang up. It was cold again.
I was panicking, wondering if I’d seen Saga’s death as well as my own. I also worried about the cats. Saga was always sensible, but Bygul and Trigul panicked easily. They might not follow us to the cliffs.
I went to my room and got my laundry basket. The tightly woven cane box, lined with a cotton sheet, was a favourite snoozing spot. I put them inside, shut the lid and knew they were safe.
Looking around my home, I wondered how it had all gone so wrong so quickly. It seemed unreal, more nightmare than vision. But I knew the goddess never set me on the wrong path. D
isaster was reaching out to me, its claws perilously close.
That’s when I heard hooves. Saga went darting out the front door before I could stop her. “Sweet Lady, I left it too late!”
There was a tinkling of breaking glass, a whoosh of air, and then flames. They were firing the lodge. “Beast! Kill the Beast!” The future was here.
I ran out the back, dragging the wicker basket, but they’d already surrounded the lodge.
“Witch!” It was the Patriarch, riding a black horse, backed by men from the Vale armed with clubs and swords. “There she is!” he roared. “Catch her!”
I edged sideways, looking for escape. There was nowhere to go. The Patriarch’s men slid off their horses and fanned out, readying to overpower me. As there were a dozen of them and one of me, it would be no contest.
“I’m under the duke’s protection!” I cried.
But they weren’t listening. “Get her,” the Patriarch ordered them.
“Is she here?” Courtney appeared, seated on his white mare. I darted towards him, and then jumped back as he swung his sword, yelling, “Witch!”
For a moment, I thought he was possessed. “Courtney, it’s me! Bliss!”
“I saw you!” He swung the sword at me again, and I only just managed to avoid it. “The Beast was here! In your house!”
Behind me, the lodge was belching smoke. Flames were licking around one side. One of the Patriarch’s men surged towards me, and when I moved back, he swooped low, picked up the wicker basket and tossed it inside.
“Bastard!” I launched myself at him, ducking under his cudgel and kneeing him in the balls. “I’ll kill you for that!”
“Get her!” Someone yelled. “Kill the Beast-loving witch!”
I could hear desperate howling from inside the lodge. “Saga!” I cried. “Bygul! Trigul!”
There was a howl, a scream and then Saga shot out of nowhere, teeth bared and hackles up. “The wolf is here! The wolf is here!”
“Saga! Run, Saga! Run!”
But she wasn’t listening. I saw her tear the throat out of one man, and then another hit her from behind. I was up and scrambling over the fallen thug, trying to get to the cats, when there was a yelp. My poor Saga was going down in slow motion, hit by cudgels.