Blood and Loyalty

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Blood and Loyalty Page 12

by Abigail Riherd


  Finn stopped. “You haven't-- But he said--”

  “He said what?” she asked, a smile still playing about her lips.

  Finn snapped his mouth shut and shook his head, turning to head back down the path again. “Never mind.”

  Disa limped along beside him again. Taciturn and frowning, that's more like my shadow. She wanted to ask him the plan once they got to the village, but she was worried he would notice that she'd won, that they weren't heading north after all, and she wasn't going to press her luck.

  Finn was more on edge the closer they got to town, his head snapping at every sound, and Disa was close to suggesting he just go ahead and pull his sword seeing as how he'd half drawn it a dozen times already, most recently at a nervously clucking hen making a bid for freedom down the road. “Do you think she placed the blood?” Disa inquired innocently, trying to lighten the mood.

  He glared at her. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

  “And you have an exaggerated sense of foreboding,” she smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

  “We’ll see.”

  The road had taken a turn down a gentle slope, the village laid out neatly below. The grassy roofs all seemed intact, no telltale smoke or screaming, Disa noted. That was comforting. They passed a few houses on the top of the hill at the outskirts. The first was shuttered and quiet but the other was still open, the occupant leaning against the doorframe to watch them pass.

  Finn was focused straight ahead. A little too focused. “Don't stare,” he commanded.

  “You're looking well!” she called out with a wave.

  “What are you doing?” he growled.

  “Admiring that our friend there isn't hacked to bits or burned like someone was convinced he would be. Besides, I don't think he's going to come storming after us,” she whispered as she obeyed him nonetheless and looked away.

  “I don't want to draw any more attention than necessary. Just keep walking as if we know where we're going.”

  “Do we? Know where we're going, I mean.”

  Finn didn't answer which Disa assumed meant ‘no,’ so she turned her attention to the village below instead. Its structure was odd. In the north, the farms tended to be scattered over fairly long distances, coming together for feasts and celebrations or for local Things, to air grievances or discuss work to be shared come spring. They were villages by virtue of the small islands keeping the mostly self-sufficient farms in close proximity. Holmlond, however, was clustered intentionally down the sloping hill. There were a few larger farm structures with long halls and grazing pastures, the cows munching slowly behind them, but many small outbuildings as well, most of which seemed too small to house a family and their livestock. “Is this a village or one large farm?” Disa asked.

  “It's a village. They share the work. Some farm, some forge, some weave, and so on. And they're very proud.”

  The closer they came to town, the more eyes she saw peeking from inside windows. The men would stop their work, leaning against fence posts or walls as they passed. “And very suspicious of strangers,” Disa ventured.

  “Yes. Rurik told me my friend offered insult to a wealthy man’s son. No doubt they detained him, forced him to work for a few days.”

  “And he agreed?”

  “No man is above the law. He understands that more than most. This way,” he pulled her down a small avenue towards a large, open shelter. Disa could hear the sound of pounding metal as sparks illuminated the dark interior. “Don't speak if you can avoid it.”

  “Aren't you afraid they'll recognize you?”

  “Hush.”

  “But maybe I should speak! No one knows who I am!”

  Finn shushed her again as he unlatched the gate and hailed the man inside. At first Disa thought the burly man didn't see them, but the way he increased the strength behind his blows the closer they came, the noise deafening, made her think he did see them but hoped they'd go away. Finn must have guessed the same. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work, I just needed to ask after someone. We’ll be gone shortly.”

  The man set his mallet aside and plunged the blade into a barrel of water, a great rush of steam escaping. Disa cocked her head to better see his downturned face and smiled when his eyes flicked to hers. “Hello,” she said in a light, singsong voice. He didn't say anything but he nodded at her before glancing back down.

  “I'm looking for a friend. Lawspeaker Elrik.”

  “I do not know any Lawspeakers,” the man quickly answered.

  “He doesn't live in your village. I was supposed to meet him here.” Finn lied. The man made no response. “We were going to travel to the Thing together. The one just north of here.”

  “I already told you, there are no Lawspeakers here!” he spat, eyes widening with fear. They know what happened, Disa realized.

  “I told you he wouldn't wait!” Disa pouted. “We should have gone straight to the Thing.” She punched Finn lightly in the shoulder. “By the time we get there, everything will be over.”

  Finn stared at her in confusion. “What--”

  “My sister is already there,” she said, turning back to the wary forger. “We should be there already, too, but we were delayed and then my husband insisted on stopping here first.” She looked at Finn, eyebrows raised, hoping he would understand what she was trying to do.

  “I…” he snapped his mouth shut and glared.

  He was such a bad liar. “If we leave now, we may be able to make it for the last day! I'm sorry to have bothered you,” she smiled sweetly. She put her hand on Finn's arm and made to leave before pausing. “We were supposed to meet him here though. You haven't had any strangers in the last few days?”

  The man considered them both. “We've had many strangers here the last few days.” His gaze flicked behind her and his jaw set. “You shouldn't have come here,” he whispered fervently.

  “What do you mean?” Finn asked, leaning forward.

  The man didn't look at him. He whistled sharply and Disa watched with amazement as a small boy dropped down from the rafters. She hadn't noticed him, and by the look on Finn's face, he hadn't either. The boy was thin, his clothes hanging off of him loosely, and he was covered in dirt. A kindred spirit. Disa grinned at him mischievously and he grinned back. “Get Helga, quick.” The boy ran to the back of the open building and shimmed under the wall. “I know who you are,” the man said.

  “She's my wife,” Finn said, moving in front of Disa.

  “She's not, but for both your sakes, I hope he believes you.”

  “Hope who believes us?” Disa asked.

  “What's going on here,” called a voice from behind. Disa turned to look, her hand tightening instinctively on Finn's arm.

  Three darkly clad men eyed them, broadswords at their hips, and if Disa didn't know any better, she would swear they smelled of smoke.

  Disa swallowed compulsively and tried to hold herself very still. It was mad, she knew, but for some reason she thought if she didn't move they wouldn't see her. She studied the men’s faces, but she didn't immediately recognize any of them. It was dark, though. And people were dying.

  “Who are you?” the closest man asked. There were three of them but the other two kept silent. This was the man in charge. He was tall and thin with shoulder length gray hair and a wide forehead that hinted at the beginnings of a receding hairline. He was staring at them malevolently with something of a permanent sneer thanks to a crooked front tooth.

  “They're friends,” the forger said casually as he pulled down a sword from his wall and took it to a large whetstone to sharpen, ignoring the scene as if he were bored by it all.

  “Who are you?” Finn asked brazenly.

  The man looked at him, brow furrowed, and then burst into a wheezy laughter. The two men flanking him joined in, each smiling broadly. “They must not be from around here. Eh, Bassi?”

  “Of course they live around here,” the forger inserted. “Didn't I just say they were friends?”
/>   “I haven't seen you,” the leader, Bassi, said. “And I've seen everyone.” He directed the last insinuation at Disa, stepping to the side to get a better look at her. “Hello,” he drawled. Finn reached back and pushed what little of her had been peeking out fully behind him. The man laughed again.

  “There you are!” called a woman bustling down the lane. She was tall and large, her belt jingling with coins, scissors, a few knives, and one pair of very worn mittens. Her gown was a light yellow with a brown apron, and her hair was gathered under a green cap, her ruddy cheeks betraying her exertion.

  “Helga,” the forger called merrily, while the strangers turned sour and crossed their arms.

  “I’m not talking to you, Halfdan.”

  “What have I done this time?” He grinned.

  “You’re keeping my kids from honest work, is what.”

  “They were just having a look at the new swords,” he soothed. “I was about to send them to you.

  Disa saw the small boy peek out from behind the brash woman’s skirts. “Don't just stand there like that, get moving!” She was directing this to Disa and Finn, who was frowning deeply. “Don't make that face at me, you were supposed to help me bury the vats yesterday. You're late. What good is having a son if he runs off with his wife when winter is threatening.”

  “I thought your son was dead,” Bassi accused.

  “Of course he's dead, you meddling cow!” she hollered. “This is my sister’s girl, not that it's any business of yours.”

  Disa understood then. She flounced out from behind Finn and slid by the trio of strangers, linking her arm through the woman's and laying her head on her shoulder. “Don't be angry, we don't mean to be so disobedient. We're just so in love.” She batted her eyes at Finn who was still staring at her like she’d grown three heads.

  “You can't charm me,” she said as she shook free of Disa’s hold. “Get up that hill now.”

  Disa stood back and held her hand out to Finn. “We better do as she says,” Disa nodded gravely.

  “Sorry Auntie,” Finn said without a trace of remorse, striding forward and grabbing Disa before hauling her up the road.

  Disa tried to keep up, but her ankle was weak and swollen. “Slow down,” she hissed.

  “We're leaving. Now.”

  “We are not going on the run again, Finn. I can't traipse through the woods on this,” she gestured to her foot.

  He glanced down and stopped abruptly, sucking a breath between his teeth. “That looks terrible.”

  “I know.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I'm telling you now!” This was not the time to have this conversation.

  “I'll carry you.”

  Disa rolled her eyes but was saved from answering as Helga marched by. “You two: follow me.”

  Finn pulled Disa closer. “We are--”

  “You're not leaving. Not unless you want to die. Follow me.”

  Disa gave Finn a pleading look. “She's right.” She could tell he was struggling with the instinct to protect her. “Something’s going on. If we have any hope of figuring out what that is, we need to go with her.”

  “Fine,” he assented. “But if those three come sniffing around again, we’re gone.”

  “What did I say!” Helga shouted from up ahead.

  “We better hurry,” Disa smiled, “or Auntie will be angry.”

  Finn paced the length of the large hall Helga called home. It was dim, cool, and fragrant, the rafters full of drying herbs and meats, with a stiff woven rug in the center. Disa was sitting on the long bench next to a high wooden table, battered from use and crowded with bowls all covered in thin cloth. Her foot was propped up beside her on a stack of furs while Helga leaned over it, clucking her tongue and running her fingers over the deep purple bruising.

  We need to go, we need to go, we need to go. Finn couldn't help thinking it, reciting it over and over again with every footfall.

  “Sit down,” Helga admonished. “You're making me dizzy.”

  “Who are you?” Finn asked, ignoring her direction.

  Helga sighed and looked towards the opposite window. She let out a sharp whistle that made Disa flinch and the boy who had dropped from the ceiling earlier now popped into view. “Watch at the gate.” The boy nodded and disappeared again. Finn was finding his constant appearance and disappearance disconcerting.

  “Is he yours?” Disa asked. Finn could tell she found the grubby kid endearing. He wasn't surprised. Ill-fitting clothes, dirt smeared face, being everywhere he shouldn't: it was how he imagined her as a child, especially having been raised by boys.

  “No,” she answered. “I had a son, but he died some time ago. Drowned saving a girl,” she grumbled, though her eyes were soft.

  “Like mother, like son,” Disa smiled as Helga wrapped a warm cloth around her swollen ankle. Helga waved away the compliment.

  “Who are you?” Finn repeated, his patience all but lost.

  “I'm nobody,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron before dragging a large trunk to the center of the room. “But you…” Helga struggled onto the trunk and held still, her arms held out for balance before reaching to the beams above and shuffling through the bundles of herbs. “You are Finn.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I know more than you think.” She hopped down with full arms and threw the dried plants on her table.

  “Explain,” Finn said dangerously, blocking her path back to Disa.

  She hit his shoulder to move him aside and he winced. “Are you hurt, too?”

  “No,” he barked.

  “Yes,” Disa corrected.

  Helga grabbed at the neckline of his shirt and yanked it to the side, concerned little with the ominous pop of threads the more she tugged. She clucked her tongue again as she wiggled her fingers under the bandage. Finn pulled her hand away. It hurt, but more importantly he wanted answers. “Tell me.”

  “Fine,” she rolled her eyes and turned back to the table. “But take your tunic off. You're next.” Helga pulled some clean bowls from the shelves set behind her worktable. She began stripping leaves and mixing them together, grinding them as she went. “Elrik told me to look for you. Your brother was seen a few days ago, but you weren't with him. Elrik had a feeling you'd come looking for him soon enough.”

  “You saw my brother? Is he well?”

  Helga tilted her head inquisitively. “Of course he was well. Why wouldn't he be?”

  “He's been taken captive. I know some of the details, but not all.”

  “Captive?” Helga asked, pausing in her work.

  “You heard about the massacre?”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “I didn't know about your brother, though. When we heard he was with the men leaving the site, I just assumed. That must be why they're looking for you. Afraid you'll try to rescue him.” She turned her back to spoon more warm water from the large kettle set over the hearth.

  “Who is looking for me?”

  “The bastard mercenaries. They're looking for you but they don't know quite what you look like. They’ll kill you if they get the chance. Elrik tried to help us, and they punished him for it.”

  “Is he dead?” he asked quickly, his stomach clenching uneasily.

  “No, no,” she smiled. “We saw him safely away. But rumor has it there are men roaming the roads looking for survivors. Word has spread quickly.”

  “That's why your runestone was bloodied,” Finn said. “To warn that you were occupied.”

  “Aye. That was Elrik’s doing.”

  “The blood was fresh,” Disa said, looking at Finn.

  “We just missed him,” He nodded as he finished her thought. “Do you know how long it's been?” he asked Helga. “Since the attack, I mean.”

  “Three or four days.”

  “That long?” Finn searched his memory and found nothing but blackness. He looked over at Disa who seemed just as surprised. They were lucky to be alive.

>   “Did you know who was holding Rurik?” Disa asked.

  “Some rich southern men. A sniveling drunk named Oslaf who was giving us trouble. The rest are strangers to me.”

  “Did they mention anyone captured? Any other prisoners?” Finn asked.

  “Not that I know of,” Helga answered as she spread an overwhelming poultice onto a fresh bandage. “It’s been a chaotic few days, though. Anything is possible.”

  Disa leaned against the wall looking tired and defeated. He knew she had been hoping he was alive, knew it was keeping her going, and he didn't have the heart to rip that away from her yet, despite what he believed. “Disa’s brother was taken as well,” he said. Disa turned a watery smile on him.

  “This may hurt,” Helga warned as she wrapped her potent, steaming mixture around Disa’s ankle. Disa snapped her eyes shut, arching her body with tension, but she didn't pull away and she didn't cry. “Good girl. Let that sit awhile, it will help the swelling go down. You should rest here for a few days.”

  “A few days?” Finn asked.

  “We can't just wait around here,” Disa agreed. “We need to get going. They're already days ahead of us.”

  “If you don't rest, you're going to break it!” Helga scolded. “I'm sorry about your brother,” she said, softer this time. “About both of your brothers. I know what it is to want to storm across the land to save someone you love, but you won't be helping anyone in your condition.” Disa crossed her arms, unconvinced. “I may not have seen anyone captured, anyone that may be your brother, but that doesn't mean he isn't there. The men stayed well outside of town, sending instead these hired soldiers. It could be because they had many captives. Captives they didn't want seen or that they didn't want speaking to the townsfolk. And if your brother was with them then, he will likely still be with them in a few days time.”

  “You don't know that.”

  Helga looked at Disa with commiseration. “It has been my experience that men such as these keep who they need and kill the rest. If they didn't kill him that night, I doubt they'd do it now. Stay. Rest. Heal. Then you can run the length of the big island, and I won't try to stop you.”

 

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