by AJ Adams
“The young, the sick, and the frail went first. They had the most need.” He spoke calmly, but that deep despair was flooding out, hammering through me. “They sailed west, seeking our cousins on the far continent, travelling over Thule through the northern passage. After them, we held lotteries and sent off ships as they were completed.”
I caught a flash of a girl with long, plaited blonde hair. “Your family?”
“My sister Folke and my brother Egil sailed together. It was too late for the others.”
His parents were dead, and he was left behind. Siv was alone. I didn’t know what to say to him.
“My brothers and I were the last.”
“Why didn’t you follow?”
“A four-month-long blizzard destroyed the last trees. When the winds died, all we found was splinters.”
I’d thought him a savage, but now my heart went out to him. This was beyond bravery. “How did you escape?”
“We walked south, hoping to find remains of the forest there.”
“You walked across the ice?”
“Yes. It took three months.”
Sweet Freyja. “You found some?”
“Not enough for a ship, but we made rafts.” He was rubbing Saga’s tummy, reducing her to ecstasy. “We came to Prydain, to your woods.”
“And you built a ship?”
“Yes, but it was too late. When we went north, the passage west was locked in permanent ice.”
They’d been cut off. It was horrendously unfair.
“We needed supplies, so we went to Brighthelme to trade our last silver.” Anger, deep black rage, flowed from him. “We always send in one ship and leave one outside the harbour. For security. While we negotiated, they realised we were alone.”
I just stared at him. “Oh dear heaven! They attacked you?”
“Yes. They burnt our ship.”
I just broke down and wept. To have suffered that much, to have overcome those odds, and then to have it all destroyed. Well, I sat there and howled.
“Odin’s balls!” I was swept up into his lap. He petted me, the hard muscles hugging me comfortingly. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, little kisa.”
“The bastards! The treacherous, poxy whoresons!”
I was raging, so angry that I could hardly draw breath.
And then, fire all around me. The wool merchants’ guild was flaming, smoke billowing out of all six floors. There was screaming from inside as those who were trapped burned alive. An armed guildsman, almost split in two, lay at my feet. I would kill them all.
I was filled with savagery, rejoicing in their pain but driven to despair, knowing it made no difference. We were lost forever. Alone. Adrift in an alien world.
“Bliss, it’s all right. Come now.” The hands were stroking my hair and he was rocking me. His eyes were gentle. “It’s in the past.”
“You burned the city!” I was crying, gulping in air. But I could still smell the smoke and feel the burning flames. “You killed them all!”
“Yes.”
Sven was dead. Sig, too. Burned with the ship. They’d been brothers, kin sharing the same parents. They were also jokers, kidding their way across Thule’s ice fields, lobbing snowballs at me and shouting, “What’s that white shit around your mouth, Siv? You been blowing seals again?”
I couldn’t stand it. I scrambled away from him, away from the rage and desolation.
“Bliss—” he was reaching for me.
“Don’t touch me!” I was weak, shaking from the raw emotion. “Freyja love and protect me! Oh dear god, no wonder you hate us!”
The eyes were soft. “Not you, Bliss. You’re one of us.”
“I’m not!” It just ripped out of me. “I’m not a Beast!”
He wasn’t even mad at me. “Little kisa, if you’re not Skraeling, why do you weep for us?”
Chapter Eight: Siv
She wept for us, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d taken her in my arms. “Don’t cry, little kisa. It’s in the past.” I tried to comfort her, but I couldn’t help the memories flooding back. Sven and Sig, who gone down with our ship in Brighthelme, Karl, who’d died in the forest afterwards. There were too many losses, too much pain.
“Don’t touch me!” Bliss, contrary as always, was on her feet, pushing me away. Her eyes were red, her face was streaked with tears, and the sight of her sorrow confirmed it for me. She didn’t have a thought for the Prydain; Bliss had the soul of a Skraeling. There was no doubt about it.
“Sweet Lady Freyja,” she was wiping her eyes, “I can’t believe it! How could they?”
“It’s their nature. They’re corrupt.” I tried to comfort her, “We’re survivors, Bliss. You, too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I told you: I’m not Skraeling!”
Odin’s hairy balls! Being honest and straightforward clearly wasn’t going down well. If I were to take this woman, I’d have to up my game. “I’ll go get some wood for the fire.”
“It’s pouring!”
I ignored her because I needed a few minutes to think. The rain was coming down hard, and the river was flooding. The fields were blanketed with water, but the lodge perched high on a stone foundation was safe. The woodpile was in what had been stables once, so it too was built up.
I went in and gathered a basket full of wood. I counted her stock without even thinking about it. At four logs a day, and three more at night, she had enough for six weeks. It was plenty.
As I contemplated the woodpile I realised that Bliss had riches, but in the time I’d been there, she’d not had a single visitor. I’d seen why for myself; the villagers were afraid of her. The Prydain are cowards, but even so, it was odd that they feared Bliss considering her powers were limited to seeing storms and finding lost animals.
Except, standing in the stables, I suddenly realised that it wasn’t true. Bliss had looked into the fire and known the squire was on his way. She’d also told me explicitly that we were safe from discovery. So she’d lied about her powers. But why? The answer flew into my mind: fear.
When I told her our valas were honoured, I’d sensed Bliss had been afraid. And when she’d mentioned the Brighthelme sibyl, I’d felt something else. Horror. I sat on the woodpile and thought.
Bliss had made a point of saying she wasn’t powerful enough to serve the duke because something about working as his vala frightened her. In fact, it scared her so much that she was hiding herself in a lone country house, cloaking her talents.
Maybe it was an opportunity. If she wasn’t happy here, maybe there was a chance for me. Filled with wild hope, I went back inside, stacked the logs in the basket, and found her in a little room off the kitchen.
Seeing me, she smiled and invited me inside. “Hungry?” she asked.
I just stared around me. “Odin’s spear and balls! It’s like a dream!”
It was a larder, rich with goods. Bottled greens, dried fruit, jars of honey, and bags of flour, potatoes, onions, and oats lined the shelves on one side. That part was just like our storage shed back home. The other was made of glass and it was lined with racks of freshly growing herbs and vegetables. I recognised mushrooms, spring onions and leeks, but the rest was a mystery.
“Do you like it?” Bliss was delighted at my evident admiration.
“It’s fantastic.” I gazed at the shelves, itemising automatically. “And I thought I’d have to go and hunt! You’ve got three per for three months here, easily!”
“Per?”
“Three meals per person per day.”
Bliss blinked. “I do?”
And that’s the Prydain! They’re so rich, and they don’t even know it. “One per is one meal per day. That’s basic maintenance. Anything over that is luxury.”
“Siv, you’ve taught me a good lesson. I see Salvation is blessed,” Bliss said seriously. Then she smiled. “Seeing we’re stuck indoors, how about we feast? There’s smoked venison, dried beef, and salted fish.” She was picking out a sealed jar. “I’ve got some jellie
d eel here, too. Sorry, no bear.”
Bear and jellied eel. I flashed back in time and space. My mother was famed for her jellied eel, and my father had been our best bear hunter. Then I was staring at Bliss. My dream. It hadn’t been the medicine. Bliss had been inside my dream, in my mind.
Fear throttled through me, and I almost lashed out instinctively. Almost.
“No!” Bliss was backing against the wall. Her eyes were wide, and she’d gone sheet-white. Terror came off her in waves. The girl was petrified.
I didn’t even think. I just reached for her. “Hey—”
It’s just as well that I’m fast because she tried to knee me in the balls. It wasn’t deliberate, her eyes were blank with panic, but my family line almost ended right there and then. My response was automatic. I had my arms around her, and I was lifting her off her feet before she could do something stupid.
When you’re locked together in battle, a head-butt is fast and effective. Thankfully Bliss had no fighting skills whatsoever. She just wriggled ineffectively. I held her tightly, and whispered, “Kisa, my ribs.”
It worked.
She was so close to me that I could feel her heart racing. Little frightened gasps of fear huffed in my ear. But she stopped struggling, and the heavenly eyes focussed. Bliss was back. “What’s kisa?”
I put her down gently, steadying her. “It’s a wildcat like Bygul and Trigul.”
Her eyes were huge still. “I can’t call you Beast but you call me cat?”
“See? Claws. Just like those kisa.”
She was all right then. Breathing fast but not panicked. The breasts pushing against my chest were just like in my dream. I was hard again, feeling the lust rushing through me. I wanted her, but taking her would end in her running—or maybe turning me into a toad.
“That’s just ridiculous.”
I’d been right, but it still astonished me. “You read minds?”
She moved away a little. “Sometimes.”
“And you can see the future.”
Bliss shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “Not much. Usually it’s little things.”
“Have you seen my people? Folke and Egil.” My heart was banging against my ribs. I was dead scared she’d tell me they were all dead, caught in the freezing passage west. “Did they make it?”
Her eyes were huge and her reply instant. “Oh Siv! No, I’ve only seen what you’ve told me. Your memories, not the future.”
I couldn’t help it. My eyes were filled with tears. We don’t talk about it, my brothers and I, but we’ve been able to survive because we’ve convinced ourselves that our kin made it safely to the west. We dream that the ice will retreat one day, and that we’ll be reunited again. If our people hadn’t made it, if they’d died trying to cross the passage, it would mean it had all been for nothing. Just the thought paralysed us.
“Siv, I will try.” Bliss was still shaking, but she’d seen inside me, and she knew my desperate need. “If I see them, I will tell you. Promise.”
It was horrible, having her see my inner weakness, but if it meant she could get us news of our people, I would have let her gut me, the way some of the diviner priests in the far eastern continent do.
“I’m so sorry, Siv. I’ll try. I promise.”
Every priest and diviner I’d ever heard of trumpeted their skills, knowing it would secure a life of honour and riches. Bliss on the other hand hid hers. It was time to talk openly. “Bliss, why does being the duke’s sibyl scare you?”
She took a shuddering breath. “How the hell did you figure that out?”
“I have a brain, kisa.” She was still shaking. “Come on. We’ll sit by the fire, and you can tell me.”
With the logs blazing and Saga splayed out on her back like a fur throw, Bliss told me all about the duke and his sibyl. “If I go there, I’ll lose my mind.”
“It’s monstrous.” I got why she’d lied. It wasn’t from evil; it had been self-preservation. Bliss was alone and at risk from everyone around her. The poor girl had done her best, and it wasn’t her fault she’d lied and cheated. At heart she was pure.
It was a huge relief. It was also my opportunity. Her talents would be invaluable to us. “Come north with me, back to your people.”
“I’m not Skraeling.” She wasn’t yelling this time. “My home is here.”
“If they learn what you are, they’ll take your mind, or they’ll burn you at the stake.”
“I can protect myself.”
“But you’re living with people who fear you.”
“Like you do.” The eyes were wide, shimmering as she gazed into me. “You thought of killing me.”
What could I say? “It was just a thought, and you know it didn’t go further.”
Bliss shrugged, “I guess that’s true.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone reading minds before. Is it common among the Prydain?”
“No.”
She was breathing fast again, and her whole body was tense. I was dying to ask about her talents, to find out how it all worked, but this wasn’t the time. Bliss was frightened. She’d been hiding herself away for years, and now I’d uncovered her secret.
Poor Bliss. I really felt for her. She was afraid of me, too, having sensed that one violent reaction. If I pushed now, she’d shut me out. She might even lie again from sheer fear. I didn’t want to do that too her.
We both needed a break. “Bliss, let’s have that feast.”
At that, she looked up. “What?”
“You have enough food for a fleet. Let’s cook.”
She looked up, totally taken aback. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“I thought you’d want nothing to do with me!”
“Are you crazy? You’re a vala!”
“I guess, well, sibyls are useful, but nobody likes them,” Bliss blurted out. “Why do you think they’re hidden away from everyone?”
Poor Bliss. She expected me to reject her. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Huh,” she huffed. “Is that another Skraeling virtue?”
“Absolutely.” I was actually glad to see she was back to her sarcastic self again, so I gave as good as I got. “Witches don’t bother me.”
“Hey!” But she was smiling, and I got to see the dimples again.
I took her hand. “How about I make us venison rolled in oats and brushed with honey?”
“Ohmigod that sounds amazing!” She was totally spontaneous. “A dish for dukes!”
“It’s popular in Shahr Sha-eer.”
Bliss was open mouthed. “You’ve been to the eastern continent?”
“I was fourteen the first time.”
“Wow!”
She was beginning to like me so I boasted a bit. “I’ve been round Prydain six times, and to all the eight eastern ports three times.”
Bliss was giggling with fascination. “I never would’ve guessed!”
“We’re Skraeling. We go everywhere.”
“And Shahr Sha-eer is still standing?”
“Hey!” And now it was me laughing. Bliss had a sense of humour. It was a pleasant surprise, and I was solid just looking at her. I was aching to have her. A vala was precious all by herself, but with unknown powers, and graced with beauty and humour—the breath caught in my throat at the possibilities. But I had to be patient.
I got up and put out a hand. “Come on, Bliss, let’s cook.”
We chopped, sliced, diced, and created a poem of a meal while the rain continued to fall outside, the gale cutting us off from the world. Me, I love food. All us Skraeling are fascinated by it because we’ve hungered for so long, but at the same time my mind was taken up with visions of a wonderful future. Bliss would give me children, and I wouldn’t mind her sharp tongue. At least, not much. And maybe I could get her to smile more.
“We leave it to stand a few minutes, and then it’s done.”
“I can’t wait!”
If we could have times like these, life would be bliss
indeed. I found myself cleaning up, feeling hopeful for the first time in years. Life was finally taking a turn for the better. I’d have a mate, we’d make a life together, and my family would live on, with honour.
As the scent of our work drifted through the house, Saga and the cats came in. The wolf sat on her hind legs and offered me a paw, Bygul and Trigul circling behind me.
“I’m not falling for your tricks again,” I told them. “I cooked for two, not five.”
I wasn’t too surprised when Bliss gave them their own meal of potted meat and fish. “They usually hunt,” she explained. “But in deep winter and when it floods, we eat inside.”
They were family, I realised. Bliss didn’t have people, but she had her companions. It saddened me. We Skraeling have always been tight, but as our numbers dwindled, we became as one. Rune is my cousin, and Brant isn’t a blood relation at all, but we are all brothers, sharing our fate. To be cut off is the worst feeling in the world, and while Saga was practically human, Bliss was essentially alone.
“You okay?” Bliss was frowning at me.
“You felt my thoughts?” I’d said I wasn’t afraid, but it was a strange sensation to have her read me. Intrusive. Like that time when she’d inspected me as if I were a rack of meat. I felt helpless and when I feel that way, I get angry. I controlled it, but the need to lash out was there. She knew, too; I could see it in her eyes. “I don’t mind,” I added quickly.
“Huh!” She wasn’t fooled for a second.
“Let’s eat.”
That brought her round again. She sat at the table like a civilised person and ate with the appetite of a wolf. “This is amazing.” After cleaning her plate, she was smiling. “I’ve never had anything so good.”
She wouldn’t let me wash up. “Your hand must be sore.”
“I don’t feel it.”
I didn’t, at least not much, because I’m used to ignoring pain, hunger, and things I don’t like.
But Bliss was shaking her head again. “Right. The warrior spirit.”