Blood and Loyalty

by Abigail Riherd

  She blinked a few times, her eyes more hollow than they'd been the day before. He saw recognition dawn and her arm went slack. “What happened?” she asked, clearly embarrassed.

  “I woke you up. So, naturally, you tried to use my own sword against me.” It was the sort of charming thing his brother might say, not his usual aloof demeanor, but it was called for, he thought, to soothe her. Something her brother would do, too. Assuage her with humor. Besides, she wasn't someone he was trying to command. She wasn't one of his men. He could relax. For a moment, at least.

  “I'm sorry.” She frowned down at her own hand as if it had betrayed her in some way.

  “It's fine.” She glanced at him strangely, but said nothing. He handed her the last of the bread. “Eat this.”

  She split the remainder in half, handing him the larger portion. “Eat this.”

  He laughed shortly and traded pieces with her. “I'm quite used to no food and long, physical days. I'll be fine,” he added when she didn't seem convinced. She gave him one last reluctant look and began to eat. One negotiation won, he thought, who knows how many more to go.

  Disa put her dirty white underdress on over the green one, worried that she'd look odd traipsing down the village path in her finery but not being able to dress in the simpler garment, short as it was after she'd cannibalized it for bandages. Fin had offered her one of his tunics instead, but she refused, insisting she looked foolish enough and needed no further attention. She was right. It would look like she'd wrapped herself about in a tent. But as they began to leave, she seemed so miserable he couldn't resist. “Here,” he said, reaching into the rucksack for the belted knife he’d cleaned before she woke. “Take this back.”

  “Thank you!” she breathed with bright eyes. Her delight soon flashed away, though, like the sun being blotted by clouds. She kept her head down as she fitted the weapon to her hip, and he wondered if she, like Finn, was thinking how she'd stuck it into the chest of the man who'd run through Nanna. He cursed himself silently for leaving it where he’d found it. But it was a lucky blade. Nan may yet live and Disa had managed to fend off her attacker with nothing but a bit of steel, her body lodged in the smallest window that man had ever built. With that image and a private shake of his head, they set off for the long day’s walk.

  Only a few hours had passed and Finn knew with all his heart that he would kill for a horse. The islands were nothing but stone and hill at best, and they did not have them at their best. They were sticking quite close to the shore, which was primarily cliff, their abrupt ends stretching a dizzying distance before plunging into the sea and the jagged rocks below. His feet were heavy, and though Disa kept up without complaint, her mouth resolutely shut, he could tell she was reaching the edge of her abilities. They were too tired and too hungry to keep this up.

  Disa tripped and Finn reached forward to catch her a moment too late. She hit the ground hard on her hands and knees and stayed there, not making a sound. “Are you ok?” he asked, wanting to pull her up but also wanting to give her a moment to hate the ground.

  “My foot caught something,” she said at last, pushing herself upright and turning her ankle in circles gingerly.

  Finn glanced down. “Oh!” he said in surprise. “You tripped on a wagon rut. You've found the path!”

  She glared at him and the narrow tracks deep in the dirt that were partially obscured by the long grass. The grooves were the perfect size for a farm cart’s wheels, the space carved out from years of travel. “I'm pleased,” she said flatly. “Which way now.”

  “Uh…” He looked one way and then another.

  “Finn!”

  “This way,” he pointed.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Mostly yes.” Disa sighed deeply, not convinced by his slight conviction. “Definitely this way,” he tried again. “Keep the ocean on the left.”

  They continued on, the track blissfully flat with a few rolling inclines. Disa was limping slightly, her arms crossed tightly across her front, as if trying to keep her temper from tumbling out. “There should have been a runestone by now,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Secretly, Finn agreed. Most paths were marked with large stones, declaring who built such a fine road and where it was headed, maybe inscribed with a few blessings for travelers, and they had yet to see one. But there was no denying it was a well travelled path, and he really was convinced they were headed in the right direction, so he kept this particular agreement to himself. “We're probably on an outfield path,” he answered, a partial guess and a hopeful wish. “A farmer's route to a grazing field, perhaps. We’ll end up at some farm or another at the edge of town soon.”

  There was a rattle on the path ahead, somewhere beyond the curve that hugged a dome shaped hill. They both stopped, and Disa gripped his arm, a tic of hers he was finding more and more familiar. “Someone's coming,” she whispered.

  “It sounds like a cart, maybe,” said Finn, listening hard.

  “What do we do?”

  “It's probably the farmer who works these fields.” Was he trying to convince himself?

  “We can ask him where we are. Make sure we're headed in the right direction.”

  Finn considered a moment. He wasn't keen on asking a stranger about their location. He didn't want to draw any more attention than necessary, and he didn't want someone he'd never met to know where they were headed. If the stranger was asked one question from the wrong person, it could make them prey before the sun had set. Finn couldn't help thinking about the men at camp who were looking at bodies, the ones who seemed to be searching, the ones he'd foolishly alerted with an ill-timed kill; he couldn't help thinking that they were ensuring someone had died. Himself. Or Disa.

  Disa.

  “Off the path.” He twisted the arm she was grasping and held her hand tight to his chest, helping her navigate quicker than was wise on her turned ankle. There wasn't any brush to take cover in. They were walking along a particularly steep set of sea cliffs. Finn glanced over the side. Too smooth, too smooth. He jogged along the edge, Disa tripping along behind him until he found what he was looking for - a gash in the edge where some earth had fallen away, leaving a groove in the face of the rock. “Take my hands,” he commanded, turning her back on the sharp drop behind. Disa’s eyes were wide with fright as she realized what he planned on doing. He could tell she wanted to protest but the rattling was getting louder. They only had moments before friend or foe rounded that corner, and Finn wasn't taking any chances. He looked at her imploringly, his palms up. He wasn't going to force her. “It's going to be ok,” he said with the practiced calm of man who leads warriors into battle regularly.

  Disa dropped her hands in his and squeezed her eyes shut. Gripping her wrists, he pushed her back gently, her body tensing as her heels stuck over the edge. Finn braced his arms, sliding his hands to her elbows before taking her weight and slowly lowering her into the small hollow. The moment her feet touched the slight slope, she dug her feet into soft earth, clods tumbling down to the frothy water far, far below. She was shaking too much for Finn to let go, her fingers digging into his forearm. “Grab onto the rock,” he urged as if they had all the time in the world. She opened her eyes a fraction and focused intently on the cliff in front of her. She peeled one hand and then the other away from him and held tightly to the finger holds in the stone. Once free of supporting Disa, Finn moved quickly, hopping off the cliff and twisting just in time to catch himself on the edge. There weren't many places to plant his feet so instead he kept them flat against the stone, and crawled down using just his arms, hanging beside Disa. She had shut her eyes again, her breath coming too fast, and Finn heard the clop of hooves to his left as the wagon drew around the corner.

  The soft earth Disa had planted her feet in began to slide. She cried out and tried to scramble forward, her feet just shifting more dirt and stone away. Finn swung sideways quickly, planting his feet wide on either side of hers, and gripped the rock just above
her own hands. The wagon had stopped and Finn felt sure they’d heard her. She managed to brace her feet once more by leaning into him. He pressed his face close to her ear and whispered, “You're not going to fall. Just breathe.” She nodded her head and blew out a few short breaths. “I'm right behind you. You're not going to fall.” She nodded again and Finn didn't risk any more words of encouragement. He could hear shuffling footsteps, but no other voices. The stranger was alone, but Finn didn't think he was some innocent soul off to tend his flock. Shouldn't the man call out if he heard the cry of a panicked woman, try to hail her, try to see what was wrong? He found it far more suspicious the man stopped and said nothing. Finn held very still, expecting a face and a blade to appear over the edge at any moment, but instead he heard a wooden frame creak and the snap of reins. The man was on his way.

  They stayed suspended on the face of the cliff long after the noisy rattle had disappeared in the distance. “I can't hold on much longer,” Disa croaked, her voice tight with spent panic.

  “Ok.” He tested the hold he had in his right hand, and once he'd satisfied himself it wouldn't give, he slid his left arm around her waist and held her tightly, almost too much so, making sure she felt stable. “Turn if you can and wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructed.

  Disa obeyed, twisting slowly before pulling herself hard against him. Finn began to release his arm from around her just as the remainder of her perch eroded away beneath her. “Don't let go!” she blurted, her feet suspended over nothing.

  Finn had to ignore her. He needed both hands. “Hold on, you won't fall.” Disa wrapped her legs tight around him but didn't protest anymore. Finn climbed, his feet bracing on either side of the hollow, and prayed it wouldn't give. One hand over another and he was almost there, though he'd had to reach up blindly more often than he would ever admit to Disa. They reached the cliff’s edge, and he scrabbled up the remaining distance, clawing them both to level ground. Disa's eyes were still clamped shut, her hold around him absolute. Finn sat back on his heels, his hands pressed lightly to her back. “It's ok,” he soothed. He clasped her ribs, urging her gently back, but she wasn't moving, her body beginning to shake again. He slid his hands around instead and hugged her tight. “It's ok.”

  He felt her arms begin to slacken, her fingertips pressing into his shoulder blades and then his shoulders, her face still buried in his neck. He loosened his grip as well, one arm draped lightly while the other held the back of her head. “We're not doing that again,” she insisted, her muffled breath warm against his throat.

  “Ok,” he agreed. “Never again.”

  Once she had relaxed in the space of his embrace, realization of their bodies and the way it must look seemed to wash over her. She pushed against his chest and he let his arms fall to the side at once. She was close. Too close. Her legs straddled his hips and their eyes clashed, faces inches apart. Her cheeks reddened and she fell backwards onto her ass in her haste to gain some distance. Finn pretended not to notice the less than graceful maneuver, and stood himself, massaging his shoulder absently. Disa stood too, dusting off the dirt and keeping her weight to one side. They hadn't been very mindful of her ankle when he'd thrown her off the cliff and then hauled her back.

  “Do you think it's far?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “I don't know.” He'd meant to say ‘No.’ He should have said it. It was his responsibility to bolster the confidence of his solitary soldier, but he'd opened his mouth and the truth popped out. Finn was feeling unbalanced, and he didn't like it. He needed to keep his wits about him. “Can you walk?”

  “Yes,” she answered immediately, that chin going up in the air defiantly.

  He almost smiled. “I can carry you, it's--”

  “I can walk,” she hissed and turned on her heel to prove just that. Her gait was swaying, a little uneven, but she was stepping gingerly enough, and as long as she could bear it, he'd best let her. He'd never hear the end of it if he tossed her over his shoulder, as was his current inclination.

  He jogged forward and closed the few steps between them. “If it starts to hurt, tell me.” She glared at him fiercely. “Not so I can carry you, just to rest,” he added to pacify her. They walked in silence, and Finn kept a sharp eye on her and the footing, just in case.

  “What's that?” Disa gasped suddenly, pointing up ahead.

  Finn followed her gaze to a crossroad some ways away. It seemed they actually were on an outfield path. The main road was up head, stretching off to the left and right, their current trail ending in a large rock, the face of which was polished smooth and covered in markings. “It's a runestone,” he said, his confusion at her alarm quickly giving way to his own unease.

  “Are they always covered in blood?”

  Finn was trying to push her off the path, but seeing as there was no cover, and by the gods, she was not doubling back to hang over a cliff, Disa wasn't sure what he hoped to accomplish. “Quit,” she exclaimed, knocking away his hands as they pushed resolutely against her stomach. “Finn, I'm serious. Stop.” She maneuvered around him, hopping ahead to get a better look at the stained marker. She heard him growl in annoyance but she didn't care. “It really is blood, isn't it.” A few small puddles had collected around the base of the stone, which Disa hadn't seen from afar. Her eyes had spotted the thick, solitary streak stretching diagonally across the stone from top to bottom.

  “This is fresh,” Finn remarked aloud.

  Disa wasn't sure if he was speaking to her, so she didn't respond. She could see easily it was fresh. The pools had yet to congeal though a very fine layer of grit had settled along the top, and the streak was still a deep red, the excess drops just barely beginning to harden and brown. “It was intentional,” Disa pointed out.

  “Yes.” Finn stood and looked down both ways of the road as if he expected to see the source stumbling about, painting other objects in his blood.

  “Why would someone do that?” she asked. “Is it a warning?”

  Finn ran his hands absently through his hair. “I can't think of what else it would be,” he reasoned.

  “Perhaps Holmlond has been attacked.”

  Finn looked at her with a grave expression. It was his first thought as well. “Disa, we should head north.”

  “And go around Holmlond? But I thought the Lawspeaker was there. You said you needed him.”

  “No, I mean we should head all the way North. I should take you home.”

  “What? And leave your brother in peril? Possibly mine as well? No, Finn. We've already decided.”

  “That was before the path was marked in blood!”

  Disa rolled her eyes. “Stop sounding so ominous, this isn't some prophecy coming to a head.”

  “I'm not being ominous, Disa,” he intoned. “I'm not a wizard peddling amulets to the country folk. There is actually blood on the path. The stone pointing the way to Holmlond has actually been stained with blood.”

  “It could be a bad joke.”

  “Yes, or it could be a trap.”

  They glared at each other, neither willing to give any ground. “Fine. Say they have been attacked. People could be hurt. They could need our help.”

  “Or they could all be dead,” he shot back. “Laid out in neat rows, more men waiting in the shadows to finish any survivors stupid enough to stagger back into the village.”

  “We won't know unless we check.”

  “And we won't die if we head north.”

  “I thought that Lawspeaker was your friend!” Disa shouted.

  “He is.”

  “And you would just leave him to die?”

  “YOU'RE MORE IMPORTANT,” he roared. Disa opened her mouth and then closed it, a habit of Finn’s she'd laugh at having imitated if she wasn't so surprised. “I made a promise,” he said into the silence. “I made a promise to my brother to keep you safe. He told me he loved you, that he was going to marry you. He demanded I keep you safe.” He ran his hand roughly through his hair again. “A
nd I'm trying to do just that, but you're making it very difficult!”

  Disa tried to suppress it, tried to squash the inclination before it bubbled to the surface, but she couldn't do it. A giggle spilled over, rapidly transforming into hearty laughter.

  Finn stared at her dumbfounded. “Are you laughing?”

  “That's a very pretty speech.”

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Loves me...honestly, did you think because I'm a girl, I'd believe any declaration that came my way?” she grinned widely. “Loves me.” She chuckled again, her hands on her hips. “It was a good try, though.”

  He stared at her a long moment. “But I…” Finn trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief before turning on his heel and heading towards the town. Disa skipped after him, her throbbing ankle bothering her much less in her merriment, and linked her arm through his. His lips were set in a stern line, but he didn't shake her off. Another wave of laughter took hold of her. “What is so funny?”

  “I'm sorry,” she said sincerely, wiping her eyes. “I know he's in trouble, and I appreciate he bid you save me. I'm not trying to be rude.”

  “But why are you laughing?”

  “It's just...you're Finn. You're the great, stern shadow. You don't offer opinions, you state facts. And then all of a sudden you're shouting ‘he loves you!’ It’s funny.”

  “But he does love you.”

  Disa snorted. “You're very kind, but we've spent less than a full day in one another's presence. We haven't even kissed.”