by Suzie Wilde
Whatever you feel shows on your face.
Perhaps Heggi was better at hiding his feelings. Perhaps he had to be.
Walking any distance was new to Bera, instead of going by boat, like normal folk. Her hips hurt and then her feet, so she distracted herself by asking Faelan what had caused the fight with Dellingr to spark up again.
‘Something and nothing,’ he said, and walked on so fast that Bera had to let him go.
They reached a rise, after which the ground dropped to a vast plain. It was their last chance to look at their homestead, so Bera called Heggi back and then she blessed all their folk left behind. It also gave her the chance to see if Dellingr was following them but there was no one in sight.
Someone had wanted them dead. Had the Serpent King come from Iraland and given the pedlar the poison? Did he want to kill her? Or did he think Hefnir had stayed with her? Rakki stood close to her legs and she knew he was trying to comfort her. They moved off and Bera was glad to have him at her heels. Sometimes she liked dogs better than people.
Don’t think about the Serpent King. It gives him too much power.
‘I was really thinking about Hefnir.’
You watch for signs of him in Heggi all the time. It would be a kindness to him, you know, to stop.
Heggi dawdled. ‘Do you miss Valdis?’
‘Sigrid will care for her and Borgvald.’
‘You never answer questions. You’re as bad as my father.’ It made her jump. He really was growing up, perhaps better than she feared.
‘I know what the fight was about,’ he said.
It was his way to trade truths.
‘I will miss the baby,’ Bera said, ‘but it helps to have you with me.’
Heggi beamed. It was the right thing to say.
‘So what did start the fight?’
‘Oh. Dellingr said Faelan poisoned us.’
‘He knows full well who brought the mead.’
‘He’s been saying Faelan’s mother brewed it and that’s why she died, from getting wolfsbane stuff on her hands.’
‘Hel’s teeth!’
Bera wanted to reassure him, but did Dellingr know something she didn’t? What did she really know of Faelan’s mother? Was the Watcher truly her Fetch? Could she trust a man called Wolf? Had they walked into a trap?
Deal only with what is certain.
Heggi’s face was pink and he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
‘What else did Dellingr say?’
He scuffed the earth.
‘I need to know, boykin.’
‘Stuff. You know… you staying away all night.’
‘Burying Faelan’s mother!’
‘But I’ve heard… folk say about Vallas… and your face does go funny when you look at Faelan.’
It was Bera’s turn to go pink.
‘So can we go back?’ Heggi whispered, though Faelan was a good way ahead.
Bera pointed at the grey cloud that filled the north sky. ‘That’s not a woven door-hanging, Heggi. I have to get to Smolderby and find out how to stop it. And you are my second.’
She had to look her feelings for Faelan squarely in the face. She was watching his every graceful move and not because she suspected him.
They caught up with Faelan and Heggi started to copy him. When Faelan went behind a bush to relieve himself Heggi joined him, and then his dog strutted in and cocked a leg. Bera and Heggi laughed but Faelan was grumpy, though he tried to hide it by telling them what birds they were hearing and naming animals. Perhaps he disliked being laughed at. Bera told him she liked learning and his mood slowly improved. They stopped for some food and Rakki lay beside Faelan. Dogs were good judges of character. Bera decided she would not let Dellingr’s suspicion of him outweigh her own judgement ever again.
It felt better when they set off again. They were travelling companions and Bera wanted to take in the country properly. Greater knowledge would bring better prediction and perhaps help her learn how to preserve it for her children and the rest of her folk.
Rolling dips in the landscape overflowed with thousands of blue flowers, like a deep ocean swell. Their petals shimmered, trembling in a stiffening sea breeze that whispered of loss. The tide had turned. Bera let the yearning pass. The same flowers kept with them until gloaming, when their colour turned as ashy as hot pebbles before a wave wets them.
They walked until Heggi dropped onto his knees, saying he was about to die.
Faelan lifted him up. ‘Come on. We’re close to camp now, safer than here.’
Their camp was a small hollow that sheep used as a rubbing place. There were clumps of wool caught on brambles and a few dried turds like cod roe. The three of them kicked the earth clear and stamped it flattish, got a small fire going, gathered some moss and laid their bedrolls on it. It was snug. They were too tired to talk over their meal and the others fell asleep quickly but Bera could not get comfortable. Her breasts were tight and she missed Valdis so much she tugged her hair roots in silent anguish. Why was she aching again? Was it punishment for being such a bad mother? Rakki licked her face and lay down again with a deep sigh.
Heggi beckoned her over and when she sat beside him he clung to her, burying his face in her lap. A simple need for a mother. Perhaps he did feel his losses keenly. He kept trying to act older but she was his comfort and strength. Bera kissed his caffled hair. She would make sure his father’s bad blood would never taint him. Her own dearest boykin.
The land opened in vastness, with bleached grass the colour of the horizon and a sky that was blue forever if you did not look to the north. There, Hel’s snow-topped mountain was sending the plume as high as the sky was wide. Faelan caught her frown and they shared its warning. Only Heggi was his normal, unruly self again. He ran ahead with Rakki, returning with grazed knees and a filthy face. Over the next couple of days they caught enough wild creatures for them to eat well. Faelan treated him like an equal and Heggi respected him. Perhaps he would show Heggi another way to be a man. Hadn’t Faelan offered it?
Faelan was a good travelling companion. He managed to eat without making sucking, slurping noises or ending up with a chin dripping in grease. He would tell Bera things, like explaining rivers to her, and draw a map in the dirt with a stick. As the map became the journey, he did not chatter but was knowledgeable and sure of the way. They would often smile at one another about Heggi’s foolery, or the dog’s.
Bera liked the freedom to think her own thoughts in the rhythm of walking. Her body was accustomed to it now, and young. No more aches. It was almost as good as being on a boat. Almost. But boats and the sea were her bones and blood. If only her father were here to build one.
Feel the east wind in the rigging
And the boat-song in your blood.
The other two were watching her.
‘She’s thinking about Ottar,’ Heggi told Faelan. ‘Her father. I liked him.’
‘We three are all orphans now,’ said Faelan.
His look made Bera forget the loss. For once she was glad of her open face and when he smiled she watched for the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and noticed a line down his cheek. This feeling was completely new to her. Was it possible to fall in love with someone’s face?
They passed through a succession of gnarled forests. The trees were twisted and spindly, with grass and blue flowers growing tall beneath their latticed canopy. Dappled sunlight mottled the wood. Bera welcomed the coolness every time they entered one and was dazzled by a white sun when they emerged.
‘There should be birdsong,’ Faelan said.
‘Birds are the first to sense disturbance,’ said Bera.
They looked up at a sky empty of birds, and then inland to what threatened every creature, if they knew it.
The last wood they entered was so knotted and dense that hardly any light got through. Rakki sniffed the air and bolted, with Heggi hard on his heels. There was a scuffle, a frenzy of barking and then a long, shrill squeal.
‘I know what
that is.’ Bera tugged at her skirt which was snagged on thorns.
Faelan cast around then picked up a sturdy, straight stick. ‘You should get your weapon ready, in case.’ He took out a heavy sword.
Bera patted her own sword and they set off towards the sounds.
‘Where do the wild pigs come from?’ she asked.
‘Brought by the first settlers, the Westermen. They left them here to breed for when they came back to settle later.’
‘Why are you angry? It was a good idea, wasn’t it?’
‘They weren’t the only things left here to breed.’
Heggi stood over a striped, tawny piglet, its throat already cut. Rakki was lapping its blood.
‘We braved others and everything!’ he said.
‘What others?’ Bera asked, airily.
Heggi busied himself whittling one end of Faelan’s stick, while he did the other end with three quick slashes.
Faelan ran the sharpened stick through its body. ‘The mother will come, for sure, so best get away.’
He gestured to Heggi and together they lifted it onto their shoulders. Heggi struggled for balance but then they set off, heading for a gap. Rakki’s mind crackled with excitement and fear. He stayed beside Bera, who quickly whispered her sorrow and thanks.
Outside the canopy, the wide sky began to oppress her with its sheer size. It was a deep-blue lid, shutting her in with Hel.
Her skern held a buttercup under his chin.
‘What are you doing?’
Seeing if I like butter.
‘Ridiculous.’ But he had made her smile.
She hurried to catch up with the others, who had got ahead despite the weight they carried. As soon as he saw Bera, Heggi stopped and rubbed his shoulder.
‘This stick digs into me,’ he said. ‘It hurts.’
‘Am I to kiss it better?’
Heggi gave her a look but when they set off he started complaining again.
‘Can’t we stop for a bit? This is really heavy.’
Faelan kept going. ‘We need to get well clear of the wild pigs.’
‘But I’m smaller than you so I’ve got all the weight!’
Without a word, Bera lifted the pole from his shoulders and carried it. She and Faelan were so similar in height that it was almost level. Heggi joyfully frisked away, tiredness gone.
They walked over a black plain full of sharp, crumbling rocks that Faelan called brymstones. They looked worm-eaten and dusty. Large, round, striped stones marked their path, also spewed from the cone-shaped mountains that loomed much closer now. Bera could see them striding away into the north, linked like the beads of her necklace, and had a vision of eruptions that had happened right here. Darkness swept like a shadow over the land as an ash cloud fell, settling on the dry, white bones of animals. It was an age ago.
Here now, a speedwell-blue lake reflected the quiet mountains in stillness. The colour of Faelan’s eyes. Sudden rain shattered its surface, falling in grey slants that made the mountains vanish. Just as quickly, it swept out to sea, leaving the soft sound of water in the air. Faelan said it was coming from invisible streamlets. Bera listened to its song for the rest of the day and forgot the weight of the pig.
They came to a lonely hovel, which Faelan called a croft.
‘I stay overnight here whenever I travel to Smolderby.’
An old woman was outside combing some wool and she waved when she saw them. When they reached her she slapped Faelan on the back and gestured at the piglet excitedly, opening her mouth to show Bera she had no teeth to eat meat.
Bera promised her a stew. ‘If you have any vegetables I’ll make it with the offal and mash it for you.’
The crofter nodded and beckoned her into a dark, cool stone store, which held plenty of preserved root crops. Faelan butchered the small boar outside, letting Bera and Heggi rest. When he finished, he joined Heggi while Bera went through to the fire. There was a delicious smell of roasting meat from the haunch roasting on the spit. Bera dribbled as she made the stew and was glad she did not have to speak.
Much later, the suckling pig lived up to its promise. It had died for them to live; that was the way of things. Though, as Bera pointed out, it didn’t need to be so delicious. The old woman slurped slowly through two bowlfuls of stew. Hard to eat quietly when you had no teeth. No one said much, as if the crone’s dumbness had struck them all.
Tiredness really hit after the meal and they were all yawning, even the dog. Heggi placed his bedroll on the same side of the fire as Faelan, purposely crossing over to the male side. In truth, he was on the threshold, back and forth, like his warbling voice. Bera hoped that when he settled it would be Faelan’s type of manhood.
Long after their breathing was deep, Bera was wide awake. She longed for rest but it hurt to lie in any of her favourite positions and she was wracked with all the worries she’d pushed away during the walk. The old crofter must have been watching, for she gently touched Bera’s back, to let her know she was there. Her warm eyes spoke of understanding and she rolled a thick sheepskin, hugged it, and then pushed it at Bera. She took the sheepskin into her bedroll and thanked the woman, moved by her everyday kindness. The crone gave her some dried lavender, which Bera put under her head, and she curled round the sheepskin and fell into a deep sleep.
Next morning she woke feeling better than she had since having the baby. She pulled Heggi by the scruff to the river and Faelan kept hold of him to make him submit to washing. Rakki knew it was a game and splashed round them dementedly and then the boy and his dog ran about the field, full of the madness of icy water. While Faelan mended their shoes with more fish skins, the old crofter took Bera’s hand and led her to a greyish green plant growing outside the pantry door. She tapped her head, frowning then smiling, and Bera was sure the plant was to relieve worry. They picked some of its rough, dry leaves, took them inside and the woman mashed a beakerful in hot water. She had the same skill with plants as Bera and she drank it down, hoping it would work quickly. She wondered what she could do to repay the crofter and went outside to bring in some logs, as a start. Then she had an idea.
Faelan was parcelling the meat.
‘Time to leave,’ he said. ‘We need to round up Heggi.’
‘I want to thank the old woman first,’ Bera said.
‘Don’t be too long.’
‘I’ll come out as soon as I’m done.’
Bera went back inside, banked up the fire and filled a bowl with hot water from the pot. She placed a stool by the hearth and gestured for the old woman to sit on it. There was a drying cloth on the table, which Bera soaked in the warm water. She unlaced the woman’s tattered tunic and then she began to bathe her back. It was what a daughter would do.
‘Has anyone ever cared for you?’ she asked.
The woman patted her hand but it was no answer. She reached down by the side of the fire and handed Bera a small salve pot. She took the lid off: it was a sweet-smelling balm. Bera rubbed it into the woman’s back, easing her work-knotted shoulders, then helped her dress.
‘Hurry up, Bera!’ Heggi shouted from outside.
The woman got up, kissed Bera’s cheek and pushed the salve pot into her hands. Bera’s apron became a medicine chest, with two remedies and the salve. They left quickly and Bera told them what she had done. Faelan was pleased.
‘It’s lonely for her,’ Bera said.
‘My mother used to share herb lore with her, and plants. It’s not so far, by horse. I’ll make sure she doesn’t starve.’
Another reason for Bera to like him. As they walked on and the homesteads increased, she began to get the scope of people living here. There were a few crofts but most folk had bigger homesteads, full of crops and animals. The folk from Seabost were a tiny few of the many settlers that had come to Ice Island, both now and in the past. They were all linked. It gave her a sense of the connectedness of everything and she discovered that mattered to her. It was a reason to leave her baby behind and made her even
more determined to safeguard their future.
The land changed into a green wilderness and silver-maned horses galloped away like spilled mercury. Meadows were molten gold with buttercups but there was no sign of any livestock.
Heggi asked, ‘Why aren’t there cows and things?’
‘Buttercups are poisonous,’ Faelan said.
‘I know that,’ he said and thwacked them with a stick.
The next fields billowed amethyst with giant wild pea plants. Close to, they were like bobbled brands, tapered and spike-leaved.
Heggi pointed at her necklace. ‘All the colours of your beads.’
A mossy valley came next, pressed on and shaded by green mountains so high that Bera’s neck hurt to look up at the peaks. A tremor of energy in the bubbling springs that came surging up through the ground filled her with wildness. She grabbed Heggi and they flung themselves down on the mossy grass and rolled and rolled, laughing, tickling each other, while Rakki frisked about. Faelan watched them, laughing, then called them for some food. Bera gave Rakki some cheese and hugged and kissed him. Life was good – no matter what lay in front of them.
The air became heavier. Bera’s cheeks were wet and her dress clung to her. It was cooling at first, then cold, and she took her sea cloak out of her pack and pulled it round her. They heard the distant thunder of a waterfall. After a while they saw its rainbow mist and then the white spindrift of the highest falls Bera had ever seen. She gaped at its plummet, deafened. It made the world bigger than she could ever imagine, and the sky higher. How could she save anything in such a place? Heggi’s eyes were as wide as his mouth but his shout was lost beneath the boom. Faelan nodded, to show he understood their awe.
Bera refused to move on until she had reckoned this place. It made her feel like an ant – but there was some gift it had to give her. She stubbornly stood, while the others mouthed words, and then she lost sense of them and let the falls speak.