Murder, it seemed was a tool as carelessly useful as lying. Skarga murmured, “And you believe I’m a mistake too?”
“You, my dear,” Thoddun said, sitting up and moving her over onto the furs, “are simply a very small, very confused human, who has no right to be here amongst us, and has already suffered for it. But I do not consider you my mistake, and I intend keeping you around just a little longer. You are far too amusing to eradicate just yet.”
“Because you’re fond of me. You said so.” Skarga looked up at him hopefully, but as he moved away and stood, stretching his back, he took the warmth with him.
“Unquestionably,” he smiled. “And that is far more dangerous to you, little one, than Orm or Mandegga could ever be, which is why I’ve been keeping my distance.” He paused, looking down on her for one moment. “But I left you open to considerable danger. The fault was mine.” He walked away a few steps, turned his back and stared towards the waterfall. “In spite of my usual insights, I never expected Orm to challenge you. Mandegga set him up of course, and he was manipulated, poor fool. And if you’d had less courage –” He turned and came back to her, looming, expression stern. “If Orm had succeeded, he’d have claimed leadership. He’d have forced you continuously until weakened, keeping you a few days in the name of legal dominance. Then he’d have taken Mandegga. She would either have killed you, or flung you out to the mob.”
The ice had crept into her bones again. Skarga stared up at him. “I’m glad I don’t read minds. I’m glad I never realised that. Did you know that might happen? But you still went away?”
“I did not expect it” he said. “Mandegga being absent, I thought you safe. Orm was a popular leader but he never craved power for himself. Mandegga hid her thoughts well, and was already long gone. It was her absence that necessitated my own.”
“You went after her.”
Thoddun frowned. “Don’t be a fool,” he said briefly. “There are matters which you know nothing of, and since your imagination seems remarkably limited, I’ve no intention of explaining them. Sufficient to say, had Orm violated you, then dropped you for Mandegga, on my return I would have killed him and Mandegga too. They both expected that but they hoped to rally sufficient support before I got back.”
“What if – you didn’t get back so quickly? What if you’d been delayed?”
“I was following her,” he snapped, his voice sharp. “Does a bear so easily lose his hunting target? Can’t an eagle see further than a wolf?”
She hadn’t realised that her words had insulted him. “Anything could have delayed you.”
“It was a risk. The transanima accept risk as normal life. But I never intended to include you in that risk. You’re too damned vulnerable by half, and I was a fool to leave you so open.”
Skarga stared up at him. “I wish you wouldn’t be so unpredictable. One minute you’re laughing and kind and the next you’re angry. It’s not my fault I’m vulnerable and it’s not my fault I’m even here. And I did try and look after myself.”
He bent suddenly, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m not angry, not with you,” he said. “And you’re a brave little cub, as I know. You did well, and I’m proud of you.” He straightened and his expression changed once again. “But,” he finally said, “why in the name of Loki’s ashes, Fafnir’s bloody quills and all the Aesir, did you have to be damn well human, anyway?”
She was still stumbling over the meaning of his words when he left, striding so abruptly from the room that she felt cold, as if a fire had been doused.
Shivering, arms hugging her knees to her chest, Skarga stared. The waterfall was as always a chilly spangle of iced water reflecting ice, and with no flying rainbow beauty in the dark. The cold seeped closer as the blood had seeped into the floor. Eventually, because he did not return, and Egil and Erik did not come, she tried to sleep. Her crutches broken, she could not leave, though able to hop from one end of the chamber to the other. The falling water gradually washed the air of its hovering scents, the cocoon of silks caressed, and the dark silence was no longer a threat but bathed her in sweet memory. She was not sure, and had not asked him, if her own wordless call had brought his answer, or if he had simply sensed the fighting and smelled the blood. Nor had he chosen to fully explain his absence from the halls, but had returned as the sea eagle, flying directly through the waterfall into his own rooms.
She had not realised before how terrible the sea eagle could be. It was grander and huger and far more fierce than the wolf. Mandegga had felt the wind from its wings on her arched back, and not yet fully shifted, with woman’s legs had leapt from the bed. Skarga’s blood still on her wolf’s teeth, Mandegga had cowered in submission, belly up upon the ground. The eagle’s screech reverberated within the ice chamber, and every other creature had ceased its battle.
At first, through scattering water drops and blurred by vapour, Skarga thought Egil had come. But it was a far mightier eagle, with blazing wings as wide as the north wind and a heavy beak hooked to kill. Its eight talons, spread vast and reaching before it, slashed down, lifted one man, and dropped him whimpering.
Finally, coming to rest on the ice, the bird, golden eyes glaring, had closed the fanned spread of its beautiful white tail, folded the majesty of its wings, and stood central and tall, looking balefully around. Then Thoddun had Changed.
Her wounds had not been great and Skarga, gulping for breath, had watched, aware of a greater clarity, as if her vision was intensified. She watched as the bird grew, its shadow first sweeping upwards. Then the shadow became dense, hiding the bird within it. The eagle lowered its head. The closed, hunched wings arched back and the breast bone widened. Feathered shoulders spread, straightening, and the great width of muscle expanded. A depth of bluish shade encompassed the Changing, the body sprang up within the confusion of shapes, the head raised above the elongated neck, and was Thoddun’s face. He stood as man, glowing in the torchlight and staring out in exultant, victorious fury. For one final moment his eyes echoed the eagle, then flashed sea blue.
Everyone had obeyed him immediately. They had left, taking the dead with them. Skarga had sat, dazed and adoring, staring at the man who had been an eagle.
First she had been disgusted by the travesty of the wolf woman Changing, fur creeping over human nostrils and becoming the canine snout, wolf’s back bristling into two plump female legs. That Change, slow and violent, had repelled her. But then she had seen Thoddun and everything seemed glorious again.
Mandegga and her wolves were then dragged off. Mandegga, shuddering quickly into woman’s form, had whimpered without struggle. Thoddun, with a glance only to Skarga, had left with them. He had returned much later, when, hearing heavy footsteps, Skarga had jerked upright, alarmed. Thoddun had come straight to her, sat beside her, swung both legs to the bed, and at once examined her injuries. He had touched both the round blue bruises from Orm’s fingers, and the small bleeding punctures where Mandegga’s canine teeth had entered her neck.
“Not serious,” he’d said at last, carelessly wiping a trail of blood away with the soft cuff of his shirt. “But worth the wergild. How do you feel, little one?”
Those were the last words Skarga now repeated over and over to herself, remembering the smile, before eventually falling asleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Without aid or crutch, Skarga was trapped and unable to leave the bedchamber. Her ankle throbbed continuously and her other small wounds were troublesome. Sleeping only fitfully, she waited. But what she waited for did not happen.
It was Egil and Erik who finally brought her the newly hewn crutches. She looked at them gratefully and, trying to close her thoughts, did not admit that would have preferred a different messenger.
“Well, you can move now at least,” Egil said cheerfully, tapping the tip of the wood to the ice. “But – well – I wouldn’t go too far outside if I were you.”
“Things are – happening,” Erik added. “And nothing is like it used to be. Brooding and su
llen mutterings. Challenges and stamping around. Some of the shyer animals are hiding. Everyone’s suspicious of the wolves and after all, there’s more of them than any other creature.”
“You mean I ought to stay here?” Skarga sniffed, looking into her lap. The heaped furs and covers were piled around her, but she still shivered. “I feel as though I’m in prison too.”
Egil sat heavily on the bed next to her. “It might be safer but Lord Thoddun hasn’t ordered it.”
“I suppose I have the most beautiful chamber,” Skarga said, small voiced. “And I ought to be happy to stay here. Alone.”
“We’ll visit when we can,” Erik assured her.
“But it’s you who had all the excitement. Egil smiled. “So tell us,” he demanded. “We missed everything.”
“All that amazing battle up here,” said Erik, “and us doing penance, stuck out on the pack ice clearing out the midden.”
“You’ve got four little black holes in your neck,” Egil pointed out. “But Thoddun told me you weren’t badly hurt. I asked him. He wouldn’t tell me anything else, though.”
“When did he ever explain himself to anyone? Least of all the two youngest fledglings in the realm.”
“All we know,” Egil sighed, “is that he went out to look for Mandegga when she disappeared. Well – not just to follow her of course, but maybe see what she was up to. Was she up to something? We don’t know that either – but she always is into some dirty trick or another. And what did he find out? Well – don’t ask me.”
“Don’t ask Thoddun either. He won’t answer.”
“But she slipped back and tried to attack. He flew in right after. So now come on, we want all the details.”
“And Thoddun’s still cursing and marching around like Thor’s thunderbolt,” grinned Erik. “There’s hardly anyone even daring to Shift, and the tunnels are empty.”
“Echoes,” Egil sniggered. “Everyone staring, or carefully avoiding the staring. Thoughts banged shut. Like they’re all saying – Who, me? Not me. I wasn’t on the wolf’s side. I had no idea what was going on. Alone in the dormitory, I was.”
“With Thoddun’s glare darker than the shadows.”
Egil nodded vigorously. “But they say Mandegga’s locked below and her retinue in chains, ready waiting for the whip or worse. I heard they’ve accused more of the community wolves too, maybe even Ragnar.”
“Tell us about Thoddun,” insisted Erik.
Reluctant to speak about Orm and Mandegga, Skarga was strangely eager to talk about Thoddun’s remarkable entrance. “What beautiful birds you all are.” She sighed. “But the sea-eagle, oh, he was grand. That must be the most glorious of all.”
“We know that,” said Erik with a slight blush “No argument. I wouldn’t want Thoddun flying against me, that’s for sure.” His enthusiasm banished the blush. “But flying right in through the waterfall. That would have been a sight to see indeed.”
“But he won’t be the eagle when he takes on Orm,” grinned Egil with a bounce. “He’ll be man. Then if he needs to Shift, he’ll be the bear.”
“Ate there -?” Skarga hesitated, “I mean, what are the rules? A bear would always kill anything - in reality I mean – but a serpent? A vast furious serpent?”
They did not know. Such ritualised battles were so rare, that few had ever seen one, nor understood what might be allowed, and what forbidden. Nor had Orm ever dared challenge Thoddun before.
“But he’ll win,” Erik said with a sudden glare, “Thoddun always wins whatever happens.”
“At anything. At everything.” Egil nodded back.
There was more to explain. From his ice prison carved within the crumbling glacier, Orm had waited two days until his injuries were almost healed, and then sent out his challenge. He could have chosen submission to the existing rule, but to save face and sustain pride, he pressed his claim.
“It’s sad,” said Erik. “He knows he’ll lose. He used to be a good man.”
“And does Mandegga still make a claim?”
Erik shook his head. “Well, not so far anyway. I mean, who can she claim against? A female claiming dominance can only challenge the existing dominant female. And there isn’t one.”
“Unless she still counts me,” said Skarga faintly.
“Lord Thoddun’s made it clear,” said Erik. “He called a meeting in the great hall, with the Althing and all the leaders. In fact, there’ve been several meetings and endless orders.”
“Not to mention shouting and cursing and threats,” nodded Egil. “I never saw Thoddun really angry before. A sight to behold, I can tell you, and everybody scuttling to keep out of his way. And he says you’re a guest, and not his mate and you’re to be treated with absolute civility and if anyone else lays a finger on you, he’ll personally dismember them. He means it too.”
“Does he really?” said Skarga with a small smile.
“It’s why he hasn’t been back to see you again,” explained Erik, turning pink. “Making it obvious – you know – that you’re not his.”
She’d noticed. Three sleeps, signifying a probable three or four days, and the silence continued. “If I’m a guest, why should I be ignored? That’s hardly hospitable.”
“But a lot safer,” grinned Egil. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Erik said, “We’ve never had guests here before of course, so there’s no tradition. But he makes quite a point of sleeping in the men’s quarters. Announces himself loudly every evening, throws himself on the pallet, and glares at everyone. It’s quite amusing.”
Skarga smiled. “So I don’t count and Mandegga is the only female. Doesn’t that make her dominant under your rules?”
“Well, not if Thoddun kills her,” said Erik with casual logic. “And I expect he will, after finishing off Orm.”
“So – so brutal? To the woman who was once his – queen? Shared his bed.”
“With Mandegga, everything’s brutal.”
“As soon as he kills Orm, she’ll attack him. Bound to.”
“Not the first king to think that’s the easiest way of getting rid of an unwanted consort,” said Skarga softly.
“Humans kill off their rivals in secret,” Egil nodded. “Here they do it openly, and it’s legal.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The full court, being officially summoned, filled the Althing hall, squashing along the fixed benches around the hearth. Three long rows well lit, torch light flaring, six sconces along the panelled walls. Thoddun had declined attendance, so the Althing alone decided on law, but the king controlled each decision and even when absence, dominated the proceedings. All the shuffling, wary discomfort of the community since Yula and Orm’s failed challenge had been ruthlessly unearthed and paraded. Thoddun permitted no simmering resentments. The political rebellion was crushed, pack affiliations and wolf jealousy routed or conciliated. When all traces of confusion, bitterness and misunderstanding had been forged first into clarity, every circumstance considered and every argument counteracted, then all disruption was finally forced back into obscurity and the community reordered and restored. Quiet again.
Then Thoddun summoned the Althing to judgement against Orm and Mandegga, informed them what he expected their decision to be, and refused to attend the proceedings. They brought Orm up from the ice chest, no longer in chains. He marched, sailor swagger, and as crusted in old blood as a boar on the spit. They were closed wounds but he had no other clothes and wore the marks of his injuries with the pride of the battle weary. His beard had grown, a mass of untrimmed curls, but he had brushed and plaited his hair into one long sleek yellow tail down his back. His eyes were pain rimmed. He stamped both feet and the torch flares danced. “I am second in command,” he roared. “By right of superior status and through experience, by right of strength, by right of skill and of long friendship to the king, knowledge of his methods and my own acknowledged talent in leadership, I claim the right to challenge for dominance.”
Being expected,
there was little reaction. The announcement followed protocol. Only a polite murmuring echoed each word, noting proper tradition and precedence. It was a formality, but Orm was liked, and he nodded back at sympathetic faces amongst the crowd. Few would support him. Perhaps no one. But they would smile, and wish him a quick clean death.
Behind him, Mandegga was brought, trailing her torn silks. Immediately she disturbed the regulated satisfaction. No precedence. No organisation. She threw out her arms with dramatic remonstrance, glaring along the rows of the court. No sympathetic smiles returned. Her high voice reached the high beams. “And I make my claim. I am the only werewoman in the castle. Therefore, I claim dominance and the leader’s bed. If any dispute my claim, then it can only be because the human woman is considered dominant instead. In which case, I challenge her.”
The entire Althing glowered and Flokki glared at her from his central seat. “We’re already heartily tired of this bloody argument.” Vigorous nodding, the shuffling of shadows. “The other female is not dominant. As a human, she can’t be challenged. She’s simply a guest.”
“So I need make no claim, being already the dominant female,” Mandegga said.
“More endless repetitions?” demanded another elder. “We’ve had this meeting before. Lord Thoddun called several. They went on forever. That human female isn’t open to claim, and you can’t be accepted as dominant, being a criminal and out of order.”
“I was not invited to any other meeting,” said Mandegga sweetly. “Therefore I know nothing of other judgements and am not obliged to uphold them. I am not legally out of order, and until the full Althing announces my guilt, I cannot be counted guilty.”
Flokki stood angrily, leaning forwards. “Decisions can be made in your absence, stupid woman. We’re not obliged to summon you to your own hearing, or any other. But you’re here now, and I hereby cheerfully proclaim your guilt.”
“Where’s Ragnar” Mandegga demanded. “He said I had the right.”
Stars and a Wind- The Complete Trilogy Page 43