Blood of the Isir Omnibus

by Erik Henry Vick

  “Boy,” growled Luka. “Eat!”

  Skatlakrimr bent to his task, and I flew higher in the tree, using the branches as a wind-and-snow break. I wanted to get an idea of the land surrounding us, but outside the reach of the trees, there was naught but the white wall of blown snow.

  “Cut a piece and eat it!” snarled Luka. “You said you wanted this. Either do it, or I will leave you here.”

  “Yes, Lord Luka,” said Skatlakrimr. He sliced into the amputated leg and carved away a palm-sized chunk of flesh.

  “When you eat the flesh of men, your body changes, grows stronger, better. The more often and larger the volume of human flesh you eat, the faster your powers will develop.” Luka shifted sideways to look at the younger man, and his eyes were cold. “Unless you are a thrall, in which case, nothing will happen.”

  “I’m not a thrall, Lord. I come from a long line of karls bound to—”

  “I don’t care, boy. The petty distinctions of Mithgarthr are meaningless. What matters is in your blood.”

  Skatlakrimr took a small bite from the hank of flesh he held, his face screwed up in a grimace of distaste. As he chewed, the grimace relaxed. “It’s not as bad as I thought,” he muttered.

  “You will come to enjoy it. From this moment on, no other meat, no other plant, will do. Only human flesh will nourish your changed body. Likewise, you will not find relief for your thirst in anything but human blood. And, take it from me the hotter, the better.” Luka’s cold gaze crawled over Skatlakrimr, and he frowned at something he saw or failed to see. “Unless you have the wrong blood.”

  “Yes, Lord. What do you mean about my blood, Lord?”

  “If you have enough of the blood of the Isir. I can’t tell. It may be you have some Isir in your blood but diluted like water. We shall see.”

  “And…and if my blood is insufficient?”

  “In that case, you will serve as the meal for the next disciple who will have a sufficient purity.”

  Skatlakrimr swallowed. “Yes, Lord. H-how will we know?”

  “I will see how your body reacts to breaking the Ayn Loug. I will either kill you or not. That is how you will know.”

  Skatlakrimr looked down at the meat in his hand and took a large bite. He chewed quickly and took another bite, followed by yet another. “It’s…”

  “Good? Yes. Human flesh does not differ from an animal’s in that regard. Each species has its own taste. I find the flesh of men tastes similar to the flesh of pigs.”

  “Yes, Lord. I was thinking that very thing.”

  Luka nodded. “Now, continue eating while I tell you a thing or two. When you finish that piece, carve another. I want at least half that thigh gone by morning.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “You may think you do this in my name—learning the layth oolfsins—the way of the wolf, breaking the Ayn Loug.”

  “Am I not, Lord Luka?”

  “No, obviously you are not, or I would not be telling you this. Use your head, boy.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “You do this in the name of my queen. In her name, I instruct you in the layth oolfsins.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “‘Yes, Lord,’” Luka mocked. “Do you even know her name? Do you understand anything about what we are fighting for?”

  Skatlakrimr kept his gaze on the meat he was eating and said nothing.

  “You are now in the service of Queen Hel, the true ruler of Osgarthr.”

  Skatlakrimr’s head shot up. “Hel? But I thought Owthidn—”

  “Queen Hel,” snapped Luka. He glowered at the man across from him.

  Skatlakrimr looked down at the meat in his hand, then away into the storm. “I…”

  “Will this be a problem, boy?” Luka growled, but laughed and waved it all away. “It doesn’t matter if it is a problem for you or not. It’s too late to change your mind. You are in the service of Queen Hel, and you are her bondsman. You will do as I instruct, or you will become my next meal—blood of the Isir or no.”

  Skatlakrimr took a deep breath and took a large bite of the old yarl’s flesh. “Yes, Lord.”

  “If you do well, I may permit you to meet her, to stand in her presence. She won’t notice you, most likely, not for centuries, but you might gaze on her beautiful face.”

  “Yes, Lord.” Skatlakrimr took another huge bite. “Is it true she is both black and white? Split down the middle?”

  Luka scoffed and waved the question out into the blizzard. “The queen is engaged in a war against a pack of fools, and the fate of the entire universe may be at stake.”

  “Ragnaruechkr?”

  “No!” sneered Luka. “Not that old yarn. This…this is a battle between dark, faceless forces where the distinction between good and evil do not apply. These mysterious forces manipulate the fools who fight her. Enigmatic figures who tried, and failed, to manipulate the queen and me in past ages.”

  Skatlakrimr nodded.

  “These forces, these…these things in the outer darkness…what they want…”

  “Yes, Lord?”

  Luka sighed. “According to them, no light exists, no darkness, either—they desire to manipulate the state of things, to remake the universe in their own image.”

  “And you…Queen Hel, and the rest of the Briethralak Oolfur…you fight against these forces? These faceless ones…”

  Luka nodded looking away to conceal the sly expression that stole over his face, but from my vantage, I could see it clearly. “What we do—breaking the Ayn Loug—isn’t only an avenue to greater power. We discovered that it puts you outside the perception of those that would control things.”

  “I…I don’t understand, Lord.”

  Luka shook his head. “Never mind that for now, and truth to tell, I don’t understand what their ultimate goals are—neither does the queen—but we object to having our lives manipulated. We object to being positioned like pieces of a grand game. We stand outside their reach, we live our lives according to what we think, what we wish.” Luka’s glance at the other man’s face was sharp, probing. “But don’t concern yourself with things beyond your ken. The immediate threat I want you to focus on is the group of Isir standing in opposition to the queen’s rightful rule.” Luka jumped as though he’d heard something in the storm, and I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or all an act for Skatlakrimr’s benefit. He stared into the darkness around the makeshift camp, eyes darting from one set of shadows to another at a frantic pace.

  “What is it, Lord?” asked Skatlakrimr, half-rising and putting his hand on the haft of his axe.

  “Quiet! I…I feel as if we are being watched.” Luka stared into the shadows of the trees. “But it’s impossible,” he murmured. “They have no access to the preer.”

  Skatlakrimr peered into the swirling wind. “An animal, Lord?”

  “No.”

  The young man’s eyes were no threat—he only thought in two dimensions—but Luka was looking up into the trees. I shrank back against the trunk of the tree and slipped inside its flesh. I could no longer see the men below me, but I could still hear their speech, though muffled by the boughs of the tree.

  “See anything?” asked Skatlakrimr.

  “No,” said Luka. “But that means nothing.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “Go on eating. It doesn’t matter if anyone overhears this.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “Stop saying that,” growled Luka. “We are in a war, boy, and earlier today, we lost a battle, and I lost a great friend whom I’ve known for many times your lifetime. He was…cut down by the traitors, murdered, and now, I’m separated from the queen, and instead of having a thriving set of disciples, I have only you, thanks to that fool Oolfreekr. That is something we must rectify.”

  “Yes, Lo—Uh, how can I help, Lord?”

  “We need converts, Skatlakrimr.”

  “Converts?”

  “Yes. We must build a small cadre of oolfur. We must rebuild the Briethra
lak Oolfur in Mithgarthr.”

  “How will we make converts, Lord Luka?”

  I edged out of the trunk of the tree and slid upward, away from the two men seated below. Luka glanced around but then relaxed with a visible effort.

  “The way one always makes converts, Skatlakrimr, by showing what we can do and appealing to a man’s avarice.”

  “And we show what we can do by…”

  “Tell me, Skatlakrimr, do men still duel for property? For riches?”

  Skatlakrimr cut another chunk of meat from the yarl’s leg and took a bite, nodding. “Oh yes,” he said around his mouthful. “All the time.”

  “That is what we will do. Who is the richest man in this area?”

  “I’m from across the mountains, Lord. I knew of Yarl Oolfreekr from his legend, but…”

  “Fine. How far to the richest man you know?”

  Skatlakrimr shrugged. “A day? Two, maybe.”

  “Good,” said Luka. “Your adaptation should be well on its way by that time. You will challenge this man as a man, and once the fool accepts, and the fight begins, you will change…you will become oolfur. I will play the fool hiding in the shadows, so I may bet on the outcome and increase our riches.”

  “This man… Lord, the outcome of such a duel is far from sure.”

  “As you are now, I’ve no doubt of that. As you will be after two days of my instruction? No man of Mithgarthr will stand a chance.”

  Four

  I let my animus fade back into my conscious mind. It was too dangerous to stay so close when there was so little to distract Luka. “I found them,” I said. “They have camped for the night.”

  “Where?” asked Althyof.

  “Five miles to the west in a copse of spruce. Luka is…” I shook my head. “Luka is teaching Skatlakrimr and making plans. Layth oolfsins.”

  Althyof made a disgusted noise in his throat. “We can overtake them.”

  The meat I’d spitted sizzled and popped over the warm golden flames. Jane slouched next to the fire, turning the spit now and again. She held a water skin in her other hand and took small sips every few seconds.

  “We aren’t ready to travel,” I said, looking at Jane. “These two need rest and more food, I bet.”

  Krowkr sat up straighter. “I can go if that’s necessary.”

  “No,” I said. “I can track them as I just did. It won’t be hard.”

  “And you’ll have the energy to track them across large distances while you move your physical body?” asked Althyof.

  “Yes. Each time I split my animus, it gets easier to do multiple things at once.”

  “We’ll make a runeskowld of you yet, Isir.”

  “I think this meat is ready,” said Jane with exhaustion dragging at her voice like a ship’s anchor. “Who’s hungry?” She pulled a sharp dagger from her belt and sawed off portions of the meat. Keri and Fretyi held a foot race to see who could get to Jane’s side faster.

  Fretyi won.

  The aroma of the roasting meat was fantastic, but every time I looked at it, the memory of Skatlakrimr cutting larger and larger chunks out of Yarl Oolfreekr’s thigh floated to the fore, and I lost my appetite. “Give mine to the pups,” I said and stood.

  I walked around the great hall while Jane doled out the meat to everyone who asked. The place was in a horrible condition. I couldn’t image Meuhlnir or Veethar’s estates falling into such disrepair—not while anyone in either family lived. Carvings of massive battles had been scored through as though someone had run a multi-bladed plow through the carvings. Or maybe a clawed hand.

  “What are Luka’s plans?” asked Yowtgayrr quietly.

  “He’s training a new disciple and wants more. The native, this Skatlakrimr, his blood may not be pure enough for the layth oolfsins to take hold. At least according to Luka. That may be one of Luka’s tricks though, a technique to manipulate Skatlakrimr into trying harder.” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “How does he plan to gather new recruits?”

  “Dueling. He asked Skatlakrimr to take him to the closest wealthy man, and I gathered the plan will be to challenge the karl and usurp his lands and wealth.”

  Yowtgayrr pursed his lips. “We cannot allow that.”

  “No.” I gestured at the old, gray carvings and the slashes through them. “How long since someone took care of this place?”

  “Ten years? Perhaps more.” Yowtgayrr shook his head. “Mithgarthr breeds such contempt for nature.”

  “You should see it in my time.”

  Yowtgayrr shook his head. “Somehow, I don’t relish the prospect.”

  “What about Krowkr? Do you trust his account?”

  Yowtgayrr glanced over his shoulder at the Viking. “I don’t know. There is something in his tale…something that rings false.”

  I nodded. “I thought the same thing. He’s hiding something.” I tipped him a wink. “Cop radar.”

  “Is this a new power from your puntidn stavsetninkarpowk?” He glanced at the gilded scroll case hanging from my left shoulder.

  “No,” I said with a grin. “I was a cop before all this. I spent fifteen years building a skill set that allows me to judge whether someone is telling the truth.”

  “A good skill to have,” said the Alf. “And it tells you in this case, that the boy is being less than honest?”

  “About something,” I said with a shrug. “It’s not foolproof, but I trust the instinct.”

  “Can we trust him?”

  I glanced at Krowkr. He squatted next to the fire, taking small, almost dainty bites from the slab of meat Jane had carved for him. His gaze tracked back and forth from Jane to the pups, lingering more on Jane when she wasn’t looking. “I get the feeling that to him, we are gods. That’s in our favor in this.”

  “Yes.” Yowtgayrr’s tone was matter-of-fact. “This is often the case when dealing with a more primitive society, but people are not always honest with their gods.”

  “Maybe,” I said, “but he believes Jane is Freya, and he thinks I’m Odin—the ruler of the Isir according to the mythology of his people. I don’t believe his dishonesty would extend to intentional dishonesty about anything that would impact us.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I glanced at Krowkr again and blew out a breath. “I don’t like it, this god thing, but I don’t think anything I say on the matter will change his mind.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  I turned my attention back to the desecrated carving. It depicted a one-sided battle—a large force of men on horseback against fourteen thin men who stood far apart from one another. In the carving’s background stood a forest of spruce and yew and an oolfur sheltered in the trees. The beast seemed to stare at me. “Do you suppose those fourteen thin men are oolfur?”

  “What else?” asked Yowtgayrr. “They bait the army into a charge, change and wreak their carnage.”

  “Luka plans to do something similar in the duel. He wants to use Skatlakrimr in human form as the bait, and when the duel begins…”

  “Yes. We must not allow that to happen.”

  I sighed. “I’m not sure how we can stop it.” I glanced around the hall. “To tell you the truth, now we are here, and I know where Luka is, I’m having a hard time coming up with reasons not to go back across the proo and rejoin the others.”

  Yowtgayrr starred at me for a moment, his face carefully slack. “That carries the real risk that Luka will disappear into the stathur of the universe.”

  “Yeah…but I have no idea what to do if we catch him. We don’t have enough firepower here to kill him—it took all of us to put Vowli down.”

  “True, but it wouldn’t please Meuhlnir if we killed Luka in any case.”

  “No, it wouldn’t, but Luka might not give us a choice. Can we risk a confrontation before we can handle anything he throws at us?”

  Yowtgayrr’s eyes brushed across the scroll case at my side. “Perhaps…”

  I put my hand on the case. “The two tr
iblinkr I’ve learned so far have been helpful, it’s true, but I have no idea what else is on the scroll. It seems a little too convenient that every triblinkr written in the scroll is tailored to our needs.”

  “Would it not be better to know?”

  The scroll seemed to grow heavier as the Alf spoke, dragging at my shoulder. The gold filigree worked into the leather case grew warm against my palm, as though the scroll wanted me to get it out, to read it, to learn whatever kaltrar it contained. “I…”

  “I know Althyof has counseled you to ignore the thing until you’ve mastered your art, but in less than twenty-four hours, you’ve gained the knowledge of two powerful kaltrar and have been able to employ them with a master runeskowld’s grace.”

  “I’ll consider it. That’s all I can promise you for now.”

  Yowtgayrr nodded his head. “Fair enough.”

  “For now, let’s assume there is nothing else to help us against Luka. How do we capture him? How can we contain him?”

  “A difficult problem, no doubt. I shall think on it.”

  My gaze roved across the old carving one more time and then found the Alf’s. “There was something else.”

  Yowtgayrr pursed his lips but crooked one eyebrow.

  “Luka said—and this may be utter nonsense designed to trick his new disciple, but he said mysterious forces are trying to reshape the universe to their own design. He said these figures are manipulating all of us on a grand scale, and that by breaking the Ayn Loug, they put themselves outside the reach of these dark figures.”

  Yowtgayrr stroked his chin, an expression of puzzlement on his face. “I…” He cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side. “I’ve never heard that breaking the Ayn Loug has any effects other than granting one certain powers and twisting one’s soul toward darkness.”

  “You’ve heard of these other forces? These faceless enigmas?”

  Yowtgayrr glanced toward the carving. “Hank, there are…forces in the universe. That much is true. Tiwaz, to whom I dedicate my life, is one such being.”

  “Gods?” I smiled. “Gods of the gods?”

  Yowtgayrr opened his mouth but hesitated, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Recall what I said moments ago, about primitive civilizations coming into contact with civilizations far advanced by comparison?”