Emily's Saga

by Travis Bughi

  “Did you ever think,” Valgrith replied, “that the reason I’m playing coy is because I haven’t figured that part out yet? I didn’t know what you were going to ask of me next, but now that I do, I’ll come up with a price. We have a few days until we reach my lands again, and we’ll have to load up more supplies for that sort of journey, so give me some time, and I’ll make you an offer. Do we have a deal?”

  “We do.” Emily nodded.

  Count your nights, Mark, she thought. Your day of reckoning comes.

  Chapter 16

  If there was a talent Takeo possessed beyond fighting (and kissing, in Emily’s opinion) it was storytelling. Emily had heard him tell many stories before—about himself, other vikings, his brother, Juatwa’s history—and he’d always left her wanting more. He had a way of explaining things such that they never became mundane. He did so naturally, efficiently dividing his time between sections of a tale and avoiding uninteresting subjects, often without preparation, and Emily wondered if he was even aware of his skills.

  Whatever reservations Nicholas had about listening to Takeo vanished from the moment Takeo explained how he and Emily had once been enemies, and by the time he moved on to Savara, dropping Kollskegg Ludinson’s name, both Nicholas and Fritjof were fully vested in the tale. From then on, they were as tied to Takeo’s words as they were to the viking ship, and despite the many questions they doubtlessly had, they held their tongues to better listen. Even Emily felt drawn into the story, despite knowing exactly what had happened.

  After the story was brought to a close and Emily filled in some minor details from her side, those questions began to roll in.

  “I told you, Emily,” Nicholas said. “Fate is inexorable.”

  “I never doubted you,” she replied, “but it was that jinn who brought us all together, not fate.”

  “Wrong.” Nicholas closed a fist. “Fate brought the jinn to Takeo, and from there, the jinn took over. And the poison, Emily, come on! Are you really immune to every poison?”

  “I have not tested them all, if that’s what you’re asking. All I know is that I should have died on the sands from that—I can’t even remember what it’s called.”

  “Olgoi-Khorkhoi,” Takeo offered.

  “Yes, that. It should have killed me, but it did nothing. I’ve noticed other things, too. I can’t get seasick, for one, and, well, that’s all I can think of right now, but maybe there’re others and I just don’t know. It has to stem from the basilisk poison, I’m sure of it.”

  Nicholas leaned back on the palms of his hands. With a stomach swollen with food, thanks to Jarl Valgrith’s generosity, he was already looking better. He had yet to shave, though, or bathe, and Emily tried to find a way of staying upwind from him without being obvious.

  “So a valkyrie really came down to save you?” Fritjof asked.

  “That’s what she told us she was.” Emily shrugged. “I don’t know why she waited until the last minute—any longer and I’d have been dead—but she saved us.”

  “Ha!” Nicholas snapped his fingers and gave Fritjof a punch. “They really don’t know anything about valkyries. Allow me to enlighten you, sister. Valkyries are dead themselves, see? They don’t watch us from the skies like some sort of floating angel. They can only enter and see this world from Valhalla through the death of others, and the way is only shown moments before someone dies. This way, the valkyries know how you died and can judge if you are worthy enough to be chosen as an einherjar, a champion of Valhalla.

  “Those orcs you killed were judged right alongside you, and when your final moments were coming, that valkyrie saw and decided to intervene. Honestly, she came as fast as she could. It was sacrilege, as far as I know, to save your life, but you aren’t the first to see a valkyrie before. Those who fight hard battles against desperate opponents, who only barely come out alive, they sometimes see valkyries come down to select the chosen from the dead. Nearly every great tale ends with such a sighting.”

  Takeo stared at Nicholas with a blank face until the wind kicked up and blew an icy chill across them all. The samurai tucked his neck down and propped up his fur-lined hood before giving a hum of acknowledgement.

  “I guess it wasn’t luck at all then,” he said.

  “I wonder,” Emily mused, “just how often the valkyries have glimpsed me. I wonder if they would have come for me if Quartus hadn’t saved me.”

  “I know they’ve witnessed me many times.” Takeo looked at his hands. “I’ve sent them many souls to judge.”

  “Me, too!” Nicholas said, mistaking Takeo’s morbid tone for a boast. “You should have seen the trophy rings on my arms before Carlito took them. Father always said if I kept up my pace, I’d have more than him at half his age.”

  His chest swelled with pride, and Takeo declined to correct him. Emily changed the subject.

  “More importantly, Nicholas,” she said, “you were only my first stop. As you’ve heard, I have no shortage of enemies in this world. Not even now that I command a colossus.”

  Nicholas looked sidelong at Fritjof, and the young man gave Emily’s brother a short nod. They touched hands briefly, and then Nicholas leaned forward to give Emily a hard stare.

  “You’re wrong. We have enemies.”

  Emily’s heart swelled. It was what she’d hoped he’d say, but it still made her grateful. A part of her wanted to outdo him, decline him, say that this wasn’t his fight and that she had to do it herself, but she knew that would only embarrass him. He could fight—would fight—and Emily didn’t deny that she needed all the help she could get from people she could trust.

  “You know that means you’ll have to go home,” she said. “I remember you once swearing to me you’d never do that.”

  “Eh,” Nicholas grumbled, “Lucifan isn’t home.”

  He stared off into the distance, and it took Emily a second to realize what he had said.

  “You mean to tell me you’ll travel halfway around the world for me, but won’t take one more day of travel to see Mother?”

  “It’s not just her,” Nicholas said, refusing to meet Emily’s eyes. “It’s Abe, too.”

  “What did Abe do?”

  “He forced me to leave,” Nicholas said coldly. “He was given two six-shooters, but only one brother. Father might have given him the pistols, but he chose them over his brother.”

  Emily gaped. Those words flew in the face of everything she thought she knew about her family. She already knew of Nicholas’ resentment for their mother—he saw her as warden to the prison they’d been born in—but never did she think that he might see his brother and father as guards instead of fellow inmates.

  Once, Emily had seen everyone as just that, inmates, but she no longer viewed the Great Plains as a prison. Instead, she saw it as a mind-numbing refuge, secluded and shielded from both the pains and pleasures of the world. Emily’s father, mother, and older brother had chosen to stay there, and Nicholas seethed with resentment. That alone surprised her, for he’d always been so happy and carefree growing up, quick to laugh and seek enjoyment. The North had taken a lot of that from him, made him colder and harsher, fostering that stubbornness that ran deep in the Stout family’s veins.

  It was not a pleasant sight.

  “Well fine then,” Emily finally replied, voice harsher than she intended. “You can sulk in a tavern with your grudges, but I’m going to visit our family. And if you think I’m going to keep your presence a secret, you’re wrong. I will tell them exactly where you are and what you’ve been up to.”

  Nicholas’ eyes flickered up but didn’t quite reach Emily’s. He pursued his futile scan of the sea with a stiff upper lip and raised chin. Takeo and Fritjof remained silent nearby, trying and succeeding in being ignored.

  “If that’s your plan,” Nicholas said, “then I guess I won’t be going to Lucifan with you.”

  Emily was stunned. She couldn’t believe he truly meant that, but his rigid face said otherwise.

  He
honestly holds his resentment in higher esteem than me, she thought. Even after I rescued him.

  And then her anger struck, hard and fast. She pictured all the fun she’d had with her brothers, both of them: how Abe had always looked out for them as they’d grown up; how their father had loved them equally, no matter their age or sex; how they’d all suffered and hungered for years, struggling to get by; how their mother had only wanted what was best and had given up everything for them; how her mother had cried when Nicholas had left; how Abe nearly went broke trying to find his brother; how her mother was still crying now, unsure of her youngest son’s fate; and how Nicholas did not care. He held his anger more important than all of that, and Emily’s hand flew up and back to give her little brother the slap he so desperately deserved.

  Nicholas saw the hand fly up and closed his eyes, but he did not move. Perhaps he knew he deserved it or, at the very least, knew it was coming, but after several seconds of sitting with his eyes closed, he cracked one open.

  Emily’s hand was back in her lap, and their gazes met.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I’d rather not have a coward at my side anyway.”

  She rose and left, making sure not to look back. She heard Takeo rise, too, but saw him head off in another direction rather than after her. That was good; he had removed himself from the situation, knowing better than to get involved. She didn’t need any comfort right now; it was not anger she felt, only disappointment.

  I can turn him, she thought. He’s not lost yet, just wandering. I have patience enough for this game. We are family, Nicholas, and I will not abandon you so easily.

  Instead of wandering aimlessly around the ship, which would not have looked good after giving her brother such a thorough rebuke, she sought Jarl Valgrith, hoping a single day had been enough for him to consider her deal. She had to know how quickly she could reach Lucifan, and if he was going to ask for something unreasonable, she’d have to begin thinking of other ways to reach the grand city.

  “Nothing like family.” Valgrith grinned at her as she approached. “That makes twice now you’ve used me as an escape. You’re going to make the lad despise me if you keep this up, and I have yet to even talk to him. You know that’s a rare thing for me? I’ve never let someone on my ship I haven’t personally met before, not even slaves.”

  “I have a habit of breaking people’s expectations,” Emily replied. “After facing and winning over my mother, all others have been trivial, actually. My brother will break, too. I’ve just dealt him a blow he won’t be able to live with.”

  “You know.” Valgrith pursed his lips and glanced at Nicholas. “I believe you. I have this suspicion that you normally get your way.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s never given.” Emily sighed. “Everything has to be a fight. Always, whether it’s gaining a best friend or just trying to mind my own business while traveling across snow or desert, it’s always a fight. It’s exhausting.”

  “That’s this world, lass. You have to fight or die, so fight we must.”

  The rudder creaked as a particularly strong wave struck the ship and threatened to change its course. Valgrith was a viking, though, and his thick arms clenched with strained muscle to hold the vessel steady. The turbulence passed, and the world seemed at peace again, frozen though it was.

  “I’ve been thinking about your request,” the jarl said. “I’ve been trying to come up with something unique, being that you are nothing I’d ever consider normal, and I mean that as a compliment. It’s not an easy task, but I think I’ve come up with something.

  “The greatest gift any viking can receive is to be chosen in death. Nothing on this world will ever compare to Valhalla, and I know that without ever setting a foot within its doors. You promise a battle where you are going? One in which every warrior from the world will be present? That sounds like a fair trade to me. I could ask for more, I know, but I think that just this once I will not make you fight for what you want. You keep me by your side, let me fight and enjoy the spoils of this war, and I will take you to the battle you wish to have. How does that sound?”

  For what felt like the tenth time that day, Emily balked. The only difference this time was that it was from something positive, leaving her speechless without her heart plummeting to her stomach. Her throat did feel thick, though, and she tried to think of the last time someone had done something like this for her.

  “That sounds unbelievable,” she stammered. “Thank you. I, I never would have thought you’d do something like that.”

  “Ouch.” Valgrith grimaced. “Good thing my heart iced over when my wife left. That might have hurt otherwise.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that you didn’t seem very kind when we first met you. You slammed the door in my face when we came looking for lodging. I never thought you’d offer something like this, something so selfless, especially when you know what I’m capable of giving.”

  “Kind, selfless?” Valgrith squinted at her. “Don’t know the meaning of the words. I’ll have you know I consider myself a spiritual man first and a jarl second, and I’m not so dimwitted as to not recognize when I’ve stumbled across something greater than myself. This quest you speak of, this battle, is the kind of thing myths and legends are made from. I’d be a great fool to avoid it, not to mention a terrible viking. Stories of heroes past are the only form of immortality I’ve ever sought. With this battle, my life could reach true immortality: that of a legend.”

  “Well, whatever your reasons, thank you. I’ll not forget this.”

  She turned to leave, but then paused to plant a kiss on Valgrith’s cheek. It seemed fitting, somehow, to show a bit of vulnerability and sentimentality, and Valgrith rewarded her with a look of shock. She smirked and left him, seeking out Takeo who was watching her from where he leaned against the mast, sheltered from the wind.

  “Need I ask?” he said, arms folded.

  “Jarl Valgrith is taking us to Lucifan after we return to his home to gather supplies.”

  “Really? That is generous. Perhaps I will kiss him, too.”

  Emily laughed and fell into Takeo arms. They shared a tender embrace, and the world at large fell away like it always did when Takeo held her tight. Despite everything he’d said about being unable to help her, she still felt safest in his arms.

  “Do you need me to speak to your brother?” Takeo asked.

  “No,” Emily scoffed. “I mean, thanks for offering, but no.”

  “Do you need me to comfort you?”

  “I need you to be quiet and hold me like no one is watching and I’m sixteen years old again and the world doesn’t balance on my shoulders.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He squeezed her tightly and wrapped a hand over her head to stroke what loose strands poked out from under her hood. Through her narrow view, she saw his breath steam white in the chilled air, and just beyond that floated chunks of ice in the ocean. She tried to take a lesson from them, tried to harden herself like a solid mass amongst the turmoil, but she found mind and body reluctant to do so in Takeo’s arms. Deep down, she found herself contemplating the forbidden topic they’d silently agreed to ignore.

  She pondered her future. She wondered what it would be like growing old with Takeo, where they would live, or even if they’d settle at all. Would he stay with her when this was all over? Would they change when there was no enemy left to fight? What if they couldn’t stand each other, truly, and all of this, all they were doing, was nothing but a great distraction? That frightened her the most: the thought that the man she held and would die for was nothing but a temporary fling, subject to her ever-changing personality. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. She’d thought she’d loved a knight once, Sir Gavin Shaw, but when the chance had come to have him, she’d chosen her desire to travel and her aspirations for revenge instead.

  And now she was with Takeo, and still she wondered what would happen because the future was always uncertain when de
ath came to visit so frequently.

  All my worries may be for naught, she reminded herself. We might never make it out of this alive.

  “Takeo,” she said.

  “Hm?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And I always will.”

  “Me, too,” she replied, but somehow, the words felt empty.

  Chapter 17

  Even after the ship had returned home and the loading was underway, Nicholas went through great lengths to avoid Emily. The ship had only one cargo hold and only one entrance into that hold, but he’d somehow kept from using it at the same time as his sister. Still, confrontation was inevitable, and when they did speak, their conversations seemed unnaturally awkward, as if they’d forgotten they’d spent nearly every waking moment of the majority of their lives surviving on a farm together. It must have been worse for Nicholas. After nearly a year spent caged, here he was trying his hardest to dodge his savior.

  He must be suffering. It will only be a matter of time until he breaks, she shook her head at the thought. What pride and stubbornness? He should not be playing this game. It will only hurt him more.

  Emily had to admit she’d earned a large portion of the blame for that one, though. She could have broken first and gone to Nicholas begging, but she held onto her contempt for Nicholas’ attitude, just like he held onto his contempt for their family. It was fully intentional, part of her plan to show him, through mirrored action, how childish he was being. She’d already called him a coward, and now she wanted him to know she meant it.

  On the evening before they were to set sail, he finally broke and came to her.

  She was sitting on a log, watching the waves and feeling out the colossus as it walked the ocean floor. It was nowhere nearby; Emily had sent it hurtling towards Lucifan the moment Valgrith had vowed to sail her there. The stone statue would need the head start, and though it would be unable to assist her as it sank so far down below the water, it was still close enough to feel and sense. With enough concentration, Emily could put her mind into the colossus and see the dark waters where light struggled to reach.