“Ah, another relic heard from. Will you sing us a song, poet?” Hel’s eyes tracked down the table, lingering on Sif before moving on and freezing when her gaze rested on Meuhlnir. “You,” she muttered.
“Me,” Meuhlnir agreed, mocking her tone. “Look, here’s the hammer you gave me.” He whipped the hammer forward, underhand, and it whistled across the room and passed through Hel’s head.
She laughed and pointed at him. “Still slow, still stupid, I see. I’m not there, you great idiot. You can’t touch me, and luckily for you, I can’t touch you.”
Meuhlnir smiled, but it was ugly, cold. “Can’t blame me for trying, though, can you?”
Hel rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I can blame you for many things, and I do.” Her gaze continued around that side of the table, stopping on Sig. “Oh, look, it’s family time! How fun!”
Sig looked at me but kept his lips pressed shut.
“Nothing to say, little son of Hank? Just as well, you aren’t very smart.”
“Fuck you, you bitch!” snapped Jane.
“Ah, another quarter sings forth.” Hel’s gaze snapped to my wife’s. “And how are you, Jane?” Her gaze whipped across Jane’s form and settled on the hand on which she wore the platinum ring Althyof had enchanted for her. “Ah! How cute. Tell me, woman, do you love your crippled husband that much that you will die with him? Because that’s what that trinket means—when he dies, you die.”
“I know,” said Jane.
Hel shrugged. “How predictable. And boring.” Her gaze moved past Jane and seemed to stutter across the Alfar’s forms. “Who’s with you? Who else have you brought into this, Cripple?”
Yowtgayrr shook his head, putting his finger to his lips.
“Your insanity is showing…uh, what should I call you?” I asked. “Black Bitch seems most appropriate.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, and she took a step forward, her feet passing right through the stones lining the edge of the fire pit. “You be careful, Cripple. There’s more I can do to you, even at this distance.”
“Want to bet?” asked Freya in snow-capped tones. “This is now my house, sister.”
Hel laughed. “Well, in that case, thank you for the invitation. It was so nice of you, Sister.” The Dark Queen walked forward, and Mothi and I lurched backward so she couldn’t touch us. She continued as if we didn’t exist, her eyes locked to Freya’s. Hel didn’t stop until she stood in the center of the table, various dishes and pitchers of mead seeming to poke out of her body, her legs invisible beneath the table. “I should have killed you when you didn’t support me. You are such a disappointment, little sister. Father would cry to learn what you’ve become.”
“Being called a disappointment by you is the greatest praise I can think of,” snapped Freya. “Father would have hated to see what you’ve become.”
“Good thing he’s dead then,” said Hel with a cruel twist to her lips.
“Well, isn’t this fun?” asked Meuhlnir. “Are you just here to charm us with your wit, or do you have something to say?”
Hel glanced at him with mild annoyance. “Never stop being smug, Meuhlnir. It suits you.” She whirled to face me and stood stone-still for the space of five breaths. “This all started with you!” she spat at me.
“Oh, I don’t know—”
“No, this all started with your depravity,” jeered Sif. “We should have killed you.”
“Aw, Sif, you wound me. Shall we not play dolls together anymore?”
Sif shook her head and turned her back, angry tears shimmering in her eyes. “What happened to you?”
“I grew up. Why haven’t you?”
“You never answered me,” I interrupted.
“What?” She looked at me with scorn. “Answered you what?”
“So, my opinion is that I should call you the Black Bitch. How’s that sound to you?”
Her eyes narrowed to slits, and her nostrils flared. “Be careful,” she whispered.
“Here’s an idea,” I said. “You say whatever you’ve come to say and then get the fuck out of here, so we can get on with our business—which is getting close enough to you that I can put a bullet between your fucking eyes.” Sig gaped at me, open-mouthed.
Hel glared at me, her expression twisted with loathing. “Fine,” she snapped. “Vowli says your presence here has caused too much of a distraction. He urged me to come tonight, to…negotiate peace, so we can get on with our business. We will restore the preer, and you and your stupid little family can go back to your paltry lives on Mithgarthr.”
I pursed my lips and stroked my goatee, pretending to think about it. “I’ll tell you what…” I started but let my voice trail away.
“So? Tell me!” Hel stomped her foot like a five-year-old.
“When you can restore the people you killed in Mithgarthr, I’ll consider leaving you alone. No, on second thought, reincarnate everyone you’ve killed, everyone Luka and Vowli killed, and I’ll think about only locking you away in a deep hole for the rest of time, rather than spraying your brains on whatever’s behind you.”
She smiled a slow smile with one side of her mouth. “I told him you would—”
“Get out of here, you miserable bitch!” I screamed. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Where is your vaunted intellect? Let me spell it out: We don’t give a shit what you propose.”
She laughed, her gaze sliding around the table. “Good,” she crooned. “Good. We will meet in battle—”
“Oh, shut up!” I snapped. “Here’s something I’ve learned since I followed you and the dog-faced boy to Osgarthr. Are you listening?”
“Tell me. What have you—”
“Kverfa!” I shouted, and her eyes popped big and round before she disappeared. Behind me, the fire roared back into existence as though trying to make up for lost time.
“Nice pronunciation,” said Pratyi in the silence that followed. He walked around the table to stand next to Freya, his arm around her trembling shoulders.
Mothi put a finger in his ear and made a show of wriggling it around, face scrunched up. “Yes, definitely well said, Kuhtlunkr.”
I turned to Meuhlnir.
He shrugged. “It means ‘one who yells.’”
I rolled my eyes and sat down with a thump, shoving Kunknir and Krati back into their holsters. “Awesome.”
“Dad, you cursed at her. You told me never to curse at a lady.”
“She’s no lady,” said Yowrnsaxa.
“Well,” said Freya with forced levity. “Let’s get back to our dinner.”
“I seem to have lost my appetite,” said Meuhlnir. “Aftur,” he muttered, and his hammer came spinning back to his hand.
“Me, too,” said Sif, her eyes on her lap.
“Let’s not let my sister ruin our evening,” said Freya with sadness in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, dear one,” said Frikka. “It’s hard to see her as she has become. So hateful.”
“Do you think it’s easy for me?” demanded Freya, tears brimming in her eyes. She shook her head and dashed out of the room.
“Now, we could have handled that better,” muttered Yowrnsaxa.
Anger twisted Pratyi’s face into ugly lines. “Her damn, damn sister!” he hissed. “Will she never be free of her?” He stood. “I’ll go see to her.”
“No, Pratyi,” said Sif. “Let us go.” The three former Trohtninkar Tumuhr stood and, after a moment, so did Jane. The four women followed Freya out of the room.
“It’s the same every time that damn woman speaks to her,” muttered Pratyi. “The Dark Queen knows what Freya sacrificed for her.” Meuhlnir cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “Oh, we know you don’t think she did enough, but she did what she could!”
Meuhlnir met the other man’s gaze. “I didn’t say anything, Pratyi.”
“You didn’t have to.” Pratyi got up and stormed out into the courtyard.
Meuhlnir sighed and shook his head. “Some woun
ds never heal,” he muttered.
Veethar stood and followed Pratyi outside.
“If you are still hungry, Sig, you better eat up,” I said, but my son only shook his head, a forlorn expression on his face.
“Why is she so…so…hateful?” he asked.
“Because, Sig, she is broken inside,” said Mothi.
“One thing’s certain,” said Meuhlnir. “She knows we are here.”
“Yes,” I said. “And she’ll no doubt have the exits of the city watched.”
“And harass us every step of the way.” Mothi shook his head. “That’ll make for a fun trip.”
Fourteen
The next morning, we awoke to the wonderful smell of fried ham and eggs. The rooms Freya and Pratyi had provided our party opened onto the great hall, so as soon as we were decent, Jane and I stepped out, sat down, and dug in.
Veethar and Meuhlnir sat across from us, each intent on a bowl of something that looked like steaming mud. Of our hosts and the others, there was no sign.
“Early birds?” I asked between mouthfuls.
Veethar glanced at me and turned his gaze back to his mud, or whatever it was.
Meuhlnir swallowed and took a drink. “No birds,” he said. He pointed at his bowl with his spoon. “It’s a mixture of—”
“No, like the expression…you know, the early bird gets the worm?”
Veethar shook his head without looking up. “All birds eat worms,” he muttered.
“Oh,” grunted Meuhlnir with an amused glance at Veethar. “The women are still sleeping or doing whatever woman-thing they do in the morning.”
“I can see why they threaten to beat you all the time,” said Jane with a quirky smile.
“They do that because my prettiness leaves them in a state of exultant awe, and they don’t want anyone to know.”
“Ah,” said Jane. “Good to know.” She looked around the hall. “Are Mothi and Sig outside?”
Veethar nodded and spooned another glop of the foul-looking stuff from his bowl into his mouth.
“They were leaving as I came out,” said Meuhlnir. “Boys will be boys.”
“Could… I mean, given last night, could that be dangerous? Sig running around Suelhaym?”
“Mothi is with him,” said Meuhlnir with a shrug. “And in any case, I don’t think the Black Queen is prepared to act at this moment.”
Jane nodded.
“But she knows where we are,” I said. “And that’s not good.”
“No,” said Veethar.
“I gave this some thought last night. We will need to evade her watchers as we did before we traveled to Piltsfetl to rescue Jane and Sig.”
“Another glamor? Would that work twice?”
Meuhlnir shrugged but looked uncomfortable. “Who can say? But letting her maintain such an advantage is sheer folly.”
“Agreed. We don’t need more sea dragons following us. I wish I had any idea how we could pull it off.”
“It’s good I came along, then,” boomed Mothi as he came through the door.
“Oh, yes,” said Meuhlnir. “We need someone to wash dishes.”
“I’ll wash you, old man. But, hey, if you don’t want to hear the answer to your dilemma, I can go back outside and teach Sig more curse words in the Gamla Toonkumowl.”
“You better not be teaching him to curse,” said Jane.
Mothi shrugged. “All boys curse.”
“And all mothers kick the asses of those who teach their boys to curse in the Gamla Toonkumowl, big-ass axes or not.
“What’s the solution, Mothi?” I asked with a wry grin.
“Lottfowpnir, here,” he said, stepping aside and ushering the karl inside the great hall. “If you recall, he and his father deal in textiles, shipping goods to and fro along the coast.”
“Of course,” muttered Veethar.
“Ah, that may be the first good idea you’ve thought of before I did, Son,” said Meuhlnir.
Mothi scoffed, grinning and rolling his eyes.
“Greetings again, Yarls,” said Lottfowpnir. “Mothi has said you want to leave town unseen. I believe I can help with that.”
“Before you say any more,” I said, holding up my hand. “You should know what you are up against. The Dark Queen, herself, is the one we need to evade. She knows we are in Suelhaym—in this house—and she knows where we’re going. She won’t look kindly on you or your family if you help us.”
Lottfowpnir shrugged. “We are beneath her notice.”
“Not if you help us,” warned Meuhlnir. “The woman holds many a grudge.”
“She’s an evil woman,” said Lottfowpnir and then he paled as if he just remembered we were all yarls. “If you’ll pardon me for saying so. She’ll manufacture a grudge if it suits her, so I might as well act as I see fit.”
“Well said.”
“How do we do it?” I asked.
“I have a caravan leaving today. We can hide most of you in the carts until we are well outside the city. We can put your horses in the traces, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I’m not sure those horses will appreciate—”
“I’ll handle it,” said Veethar. “They will do as I ask.”
“Has anyone found Althyof yet?”
“He stumbled in around dawn. Drunk.” Meuhlnir hooked his thumb toward a room near the door. “That’s his.”
“At least we won’t have to put on a search,” I sighed. “Can you accommodate all twelve of us? Is the caravan large enough?”
“There will be fourteen,” said Freya from the doorway to the kitchens. “Pratyi and I are coming along, as well.”
Meuhlnir and Veethar glanced at each other but said nothing.
“We are coming, Meuhlnir.”
“Freya, I never said otherwise.”
“Well…good. We’re packing now. How soon do we leave?”
Meuhlnir arched an eyebrow at Lottfowpnir. “At your convenience,” the karl said.
Meuhlnir nodded. “And how do we get from the palace to your caravan?”
“My father owns a warehouse close by. With Lady Freya’s permission, I will send carts to pick up linens and rugs, as if you were sending them out for cleaning. From there—”
“No, that won’t do,” said Freya.
“It’s for show, Lady Freya. You won’t—”
“No!” she snapped. “My sister would see through that in half a breath.”
Meuhlnir quirked his eyebrow at her. “What wouldn’t she see?”
“Instruct your caravan to stop here on their way out of town. I will make substantial purchases—enough that the fourteen of us will fit in the space left by what I buy.”
“Uh… Yes, Lady,” said Lottfowpnir.
Freya tossed a purse to him, and from the look of it, it was heavy with coin.
“No need to pay, Lady. Have your thralls return the goods to the warehouse as soon as we’ve left the city.” He made as if to toss the purse back, but Freya held up her hand.
“No. Take the silver. We will keep what I purchase. There’s no reason for your business to suffer losses over this.”
“That’s unnecessary, Lady. We—”
“You will accept my payment,” she said in a tone that brooked no further arguments.
“Thank you, Lady Freya,” said the karl.
“Good. How soon can the caravan be here? I still need to pack a few things, and I will need time to make my selections.”
“I can have it here within the hour.”
“Do that,” she said and turned back toward her quarters.
It took five hours for Freya to pick her goods, and Yowrnsaxa pitched in by buying bolts of light linen that Freya would store for her until we returned from Kleymtlant. Sif spent the time buying specialized supplies for her medical bag and mixing a batch of the concoction she promised would work better than my methotrexate. In the end, we had enough room in the carts for comfort. Lottfowpnir’s men stacked the remaining bundles of clo
thes and tapestries to form a small room at the bottom of each cart. Our packs and gear took two carts. We piled in, two to a cart, and the caravanners stacked bolts of woven cloth across the top of the hidden place, then put more bundles of clothing on top.
The cart Jane and I shared lurched into motion, the wooden axles beneath us groaning under the weight. It was bizarre, riding tucked down inside, unable to see our progress with our own eyes, and before long, the heat and the gentle rocking of the cart lulled me to sleep.
I awoke when the cart ground to a stop. I was sweating and parched. By the groggy look on Jane’s face, I imagined her head felt as stuffed and achy as my own. My knees and elbows had stiffened due to the cramped circumstances. Above us, bundles and the bolts of cloth were removed, and blessedly sweet, cool air flooded into the small space.
“You survived,” said Lottfowpnir.
“Had a nice nap, too,” said Jane, climbing out of the cart. I followed her out, trying to keep my groans to myself.
The caravan’s carts were parked in a circle, with the horses tied to a line stretched between two trees outside the camp. Thralls were busy building a fire and others unloaded the cook’s cart, setting up a folding table and benches that could fold flat.
“Quite an operation,” I said, pointing with my chin at the table and chairs.
“Travel is no reason to be uncomfortable,” said Lottfowpnir with a grin. He and his men moved to the next cart in line and shuffled the bundles around to allow the cart’s secret occupants to get out.
“Did you have any trouble?” I asked.
“Trouble? No. I spotted a large number of tretyidnfukl on the outer wall of Suelhaym, but none of them followed us.”
“You spotted a large number of what?” asked Jane.
“Tretyidnfukl. They are small flying creatures that look a bit like a miniature dragon, but act more like eagles or hawks, hunting small game and rodents.”
“Is that unusual, that they should roost on the walls of Suelhaym?”
“Yes, it is,” said Pratyi, helping Freya out of the cart behind ours. “They are territorial by nature, and solitary. We may see one flying high overhead, but they almost never come close to the town.”
“The Dark Queen?”
Blood of the Isir Omnibus Page 66