Stars and a Wind- The Complete Trilogy

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  Grimr did not allow himself to think too much of the woman. At first he had assumed she was hiding. The castle was too huge, too labyrinthine to know all its secrets. But he no longer believed she was there at all. He had smelled her in Thoddun’s bed, and even though his sense of smell was weak for a transanima, the perfume of her love making remained with him night after restless night. Thoddun said he had taken her to wife, but Thoddun always lied. The woman had certainly been secluded elsewhere. Or she might be dead. Perhaps that would be better.

  He was master of the castle, but his control was no longer absolute. Thoddun had been Grimr’s prisoner, but had escaped. Grimr was now his own prisoner, and his people were disappearing.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The sky army had caught one of the lone wolves patrolling the castle perimeters, and had dragged it back to the cave, half dead.

  “Take it away,” Thoddun said. “I want no mangled corpses here. No one is starving and we’ve no need to scavenge on carrion. Kill it and fling it out.”

  “He says Grimr’s sent out patrols to search for you,” said Safn, holding the gasping wolf by the scruff of its neck.

  Thoddun nodded. “That’s of no importance now. Get rid of it.”

  They had smashed through the lake’s ice crust and the sea creatures now used the waters, surging into underground streams leading finally to the sea. Not salt water, it was clean and fresh for drinking. Both sleds were dragged to the side, opening more space for dogs and men. The dogs were sent out to hunt while the men chose whether to eat their food cooked, or when to Shift and hunt.

  The great mass of the transanima armies arrived steadily throughout the next two days. Banke was dragged back through the tunnels by Karr and his men and brought by foot the last short distance overland. He was ill. The last cold march broke him. He came snivelling into the cave and was thrust, bound, in a heap at the entrance. Thoddun strode out to meet Karr. “You should have let the fool die.”

  Karr grinned, squatting down beside his captive. “I like humans. They’re quaint. I enjoy their company. You know, they can cry in a dozen different ways? This one sounds just like a seal in rut. It’s most amusing.”

  “Did you bring the whole damned parcel all the way back?”

  “No.” Karr shook his head. “Some of my men got hungry on the way. Well, there’s no hunting in the tunnels and not even a lemming to be found. We fed on some of the less interesting humans. But this one we kept, and two others too skinny to divide.” Banke was now hysterical, but gagging on his own raw panic, he had heaved into virtual silence. “The other two are out there,” Karr waved one hand towards the snows. “I suppose they’ll freeze unless I drag them in.”

  “Do what you like,” Thoddun looked at Banke’s blue frosted flesh and chuckled. “I don’t eat men, I don’t eat wolves and these days I seem to prefer my meat well roasted. But if you want to keep this one and the others for your amusement, shelve them out of my way. I’ve the queen safe down by the lake, and I don’t want her troubled.”

  “Skarga’s with you?” sobbed Banke, struggling to sit up, eyes wide. “Tell her I’m here. Beg her to see me.”

  Thoddun frowned. Banke had lost a good deal of fat around the middle and his belt was loose over flapping skin, his fine decorated clothes filthy and dishevelled. Thoddun decided his soft hearted little queen might take pity on the wretch. “No,” he said. “If she stumbles over you, then you can say what you like. But I’m not arranging assignations.” He stomped back into the warmth.

  More than fifteen men had now taken up residence within the cave. Of the sky army and others who had also arrived, many trooped in at intervals to take a turn by the flames, to cook their food, to talk to their friends and to check on the news with Thoddun. It was crowded and busy. It had become companionable. There were also difficulties. Although the cave’s opening was unrestricted and the roof high vaulted, the smoke hung barely disturbed at eye level in suffocating stratus of bluish grey. The smells of cooking were first rich and delightful, then blurred into a lingering stench of burned flesh, hair, hide and grease. Close to the fire and squashed amongst the men it was blazing hot, but further off the warmth was blocked by the crush of bodies and outer areas were chill. Draughts whistled. Without a midden men went outside, but the cold was agony on naked genitals. Many pissed in the lake. The lake was their only supply of drinking water.

  But Skarga was surprisingly happy. At night Thoddun slept with her in his arms, whispered promises as he nibbled at her ear lobes like a puppy with a stick, and crept his hands over her breasts beneath the fur covers. No longer considered alien or austere, Skarga was increasingly included in discussion. And she knew everything, for war plans dominated every man’s conversation. But then over the crackle of the fire and the gossip of the men, Skarga heard the wails she recognised. She turned to Thoddun. “It’s –?”

  He was talking to Safn. He looked back over his shoulder at her and nodded. “He’s still a prisoner, tied up by the sleds.”

  She got up and went out to him. She took him food. The transanima rarely fed their prisoners, and there was meat plentiful in thick cold slices with porridge left over from break-fast. Banke was slumped between the young jarl Gund, Ollaf the archer and his brother Sodar. Skarga bent down and gave them all food. She smiled at the transanima guard who stood over them. “Could you untie their hands? They can’t eat if they’re tied.”

  The guard gazed back with polite doubt. He was supposed to obey his queen. “Lady, I wouldn’t like to free them. But I could tie their wrists in front instead of behind. That way I reckon they can stuff their mouths easy enough.”

  Banke was already blabbering. “For pity’s sake, these people are spawn of the trolls. Monsters, they are. They ate Sven and Vort raw. They told me they did.”

  “They were just trying to frighten you,” said Skarga hopefully. “I expect Vort and Sven just died on the journey of the cold, or mistreatment perhaps. I’m sorry, but they were both horrid men. I have no idea why you liked them.”

  “And what’s to become of us?” Banke demanded, mouth full. The four men were scrabbling over the food, dribbling copiously. “Let us go. We’ll leave, I promise. We’re unarmed, no danger to anyone. We’ll find our way back home.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Skarga frowned. “You’d die, lost on the ice within a day or two. And anyway, I won’t. I owe these people more loyalty than I’ve ever owed you.”

  “Monsters!” exclaimed Ollaf. “You live with monsters.”

  “Well,” smiled Skarga. “I suppose I do.” And went back into the depths of the cave to sit with Thoddun and talk with the men.

  She was discovering a real affection for some of her monsters. It was disconcerting, however, when in the middle of some rather more personal chatter, every eye suddenly turned towards her in astonished amusement and she realised that one of her more embarrassing thoughts had been clearly read by every man present. Then Thoddun gathered her close and kissed both blushing cheeks. “Well, little cub,” he’d grinned. “I can protect you from most things, but I can hardly protect you from your own mind.”

  Kjeld unpacked the remainder of his stores, furs and blankets, wine and food. The wine was especially appreciated. “Rest is fer lady,” said Kjeld sternly, only half filling Thoddun’s cup.

  “I hope those bloody humans have brought some decent grog with them,” said Halfdan. “Maybe replenished supplies, even improved the quality with luck.”

  “Fuck quality,” said Bjorn, stepping roughly over the strewn bodies to find his own place by the fire. “Our barrels were already rat’s arse low. The last lot was bartered for walrus ivory, and we’ve little enough of that for next time.”

  “Ah,” muttered Kjeld, returning to his cooking. “An’ better fer it.”

  “Offended, Kjeld?” Bjorn grinned. “But it’s not your rookery we steal from, you know. Or have you been playing away from home again? Stuck your tusks up someone else’s harem?”

  “Nuf
f.” Kjeld glared, bristling. “R’member m’lady.”

  “Oh, I reckon our lady don’t mind,” said Karr. “Best human I’ve ever met.”

  “Never fucking met any,” accused Halfdan. “Chucked out as a little runt, you were, and lived on acorns in the forests till I found you myself.”

  “And you can forget the wine,” Thoddun interrupted them. “Grimr’s men have drained our supplies altogether, and brought nothing with them. Once summer comes and war is finished with, then I intend taking my queen and travelling south for trade and adventure. I might take her to Iberia, maybe Africa or Byzantium. I’ll bring back more than wine.” He turned to Skarga. “Ready for further explorations, little sprat? Or longing for safe routines?”

  Erik, who was helping serve the food out, called across. “Travel? Adventure? I’ll fly with you.”

  “You damn well won’t,” Thoddun said. “And I’ll hardly be flying. You expect me to carry my wife in a sling around my neck?”

  “Oh, sorry,” Erik mumbled. “I forgot.”

  Egil brought meat and bread to Skarga. “It’s hard for all of us to remember,” he said. “And me thinking you were my mother.” He turned to Thoddun. “She was always trying to prove she was the same as everyone else, you know. Being accused of witchery, of course, and most people were mean. The other girls were frightened sick of her. Well, she just wanted to be accepted like all the other women. But because they thought she was cursed, and because of her horrible brothers being bullies -”

  “Hush,” glared Skarga. “It’s bad enough everyone hearing my thoughts without you talking about it all out loud.”

  “I think, my love,” said Thoddun quietly, “you’ve accepted your differences by now.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. The small muscle between his eyes twitched into a frown. “But there’s something more deliciously inexplicable in you than you realise. Sadly, it must wait to be unravelled at some later time.”

  Safn stretched himself flat on his back, ankles crossed, keeping his nose below the level of the smoke. Halfdan managed to fall over him and stumbled half into the fire. He swore and kicked at Safn’s small prone patience. Safn stayed where he was and grinned. “Can’t see beyond your prick, Halfdan? Getting old, losing your sight? Watch out, or the crabs’ll have you next time you Shift.”

  Halfdan flung himself down cross legged and scowled. “Least I’ve got a prick, miserable sodding scavenger. How can anyone see you in the dark? Nothing more than a little wet black feather.”

  Another man laughed. “Safn’s got a prick good as any – I’ve seen him use it. Reckon we’ve all got the same more or less. When Orm was around – well – he was different, ugly bastard. Put us all to shame.”

  “Slimy bugger,” agreed Karr. “The only benefits for a serpent, I suppose. Two pricks, and never stopped using either of them.”

  “More fun than the wolves,” sniggered Erik.

  Halfdan nodded, emerging from the sulks. “Wolves! One fuck and they’re stuck to each other for a hop and a trot. Better at Shifting than fucking.”

  Kjeld glared, smashing his iron ladle on the heavy skillet over the fire, startled, every man stopped talking. “Nuff,” roared Kjeld. “Not proper. No talking of Shifts front ‘em lady.” Skarga smiled faintly. Transanima proprieties still took her very much by surprise, Shifting seeming unmentionable while other far more personal matters were accepted as perfectly respectable conversation.

  It was later on in the lazy dark warmth with the fire guttering and the men settled quietly, when someone began the chanting and the mystic hum floated like a smoky perfume on the air. Skarga lay back beside Thoddun and closed her eyes and dreamed. This time he chanted softly with the men. His voice was deep and low, more vibration than song, and with her head on his chest, it passed through her as if weaving between her veins and merging with her blood. She no longer expected to understand words. They were the sounds of the forest and the wind in the tree tops, of the great seas and the waves pounding on the sands, storm spray flung against the cliffs and the stars shimmering behind the luminous weaving sky colours. The song moved to the subtle moan of breezes through long grass, and the beating of wings far out over the ocean. Skarga heard the whistle and click of the dolphins in the deep waters and the rhythmic padding of a great bear’s paws over the snow. She imagined moon glow on the shaggy white fur and then the sudden snarl of the hunt. There was scampering underground and her ears caught the breathing of some tiny creature sleeping deep in its den, prey for the hunting owl. Somewhere there was bird song, bees in the apple blossom and the sun on new leaf. Then the flick of a fin, a shoal of silver darts through the shallows and the sudden dive of the hunting sea eagle, water ice cold around the neck feathers, golden eyes wide for the catch. The blow hole - and the soft furry innocence of the baby seal beneath the ice – the sweet temptation of vulnerability – and the approach of the hungry bear.

  Thoddun’s voice was everything, every tantalising shade of nature, and its rich melody pulled her into him, breathing with him and singing with him. She followed his voice, as if it held her by the hand and led her to places mystically wondrous, and utterly unknown. Then she knew she was chanting with him and her own voice, soft and new and nervous, became his tiny echo. His voice grew stronger and wilder. She blinked, lost in magic. She saw the shadows move around her, as most of the men rose and moved away from the flicker of firelight, and began to Shift.

  She leaned back and sighed. Then before she closed her eyes, she saw Thoddun leaning over her. His own eyes were wide open, but they were the eagle’s eyes, and as golden on black as the new rising sun. She still heard the song, but his mouth was hard on hers and his kiss was more fierce than kind. Then he bundled her into his arms and carried her to bed.

  Another restless cramped night, with men crawling to the fire or away from it, a few more Shifting, others returning from the snows. The fire was kept blazing high and the smoke made men cough. The incessant splashing from the lake, water creatures escaping for a night’s swim, others returning from the hunt, smelling of fish and salt. From the cave’s entrance, the three humans could be heard wailing, complaining of cold and discomfort, while Kjeld’s usual snores ricocheted from the cavern roof.

  Thoddun kept Skarga close within the circle of his arms, a little apart from the fire and the other sleeping men. His bearskin engulfed them in privacy but at first he did not attempt to make love to her, careful of her hesitant timidity. His voice was low, little more than a warm breath tickling her forehead. “You know, don’t you my love, that tomorrow I must leave you again?”

  She nodded, whispering back. “Yes. I’ve listened to all your plans, when you talk to the men. I know what you want. You expect Lodver to arrive before next dawn. He’ll take my sled, and bring me to the castle with all the great army following behind us. It’ll be a grand feeling; the queen returning home at the head of her people. You want Grimr to see me like that. But I wish you could be with me.”

  He smiled and she felt the curve of his mouth against her closed eyelids. “I shall be proud, watching you arrive my love, with a thousand of our transanima marching behind. But now I must go back to Grimr.”

  “What if he hurts you?” she whispered fiercely. “He’ll be angry you got away. He might have you whipped. He likes whipping people. What if he chains you?”

  Thoddun shook his head. “Nobody chains me, child. And nobody whips me. My father did, when I was a boy, but it will never happen again. Don’t be worried, little cub. I’m reasonably good at looking after myself.”

  Skarga looked up at him and sniffed. She raised one finger and traced the thin pink scars across his eyelids; the fine cuts, partly healed. “But you can be hurt. Though if we outnumber them so outrageously, hopefully they’ll run.”

  “It will be mercifully quick,” Thoddun murmured, kissing the wandering fingertip and clasping her hand against his cheek. “My own people will be vengeful, remembering those murdered. But most of the humans will fight
hard. Besides, they’ve come to the land of giants and trolls. We may seem less fearsome than expectations. They’ll not all turn tail, most of them fear the shame of surrender or retreat. Grimr’s busy bolstering his people’s courage, and as yet doesn’t believe in my boasts of a great army marching to attack. And now as you know, your father’s on his way. He’ll be half frozen by the time he gets there, but once at the castle I shall have to deal with him, and the rest of your family too. I’ve asked you before, little cub – do you mind them killed?”

  Skarga sighed. “No. They wanted me dead for long enough. But I won’t watch.”

  Thoddun laughed softly. “I wasn’t planning on spreading your father’s entrails at your feet. But the sight of your wretched brother taken prisoner disturbed you before. Perhaps you’ve more sentimental family loyalty than you realise.” She shook her head. “But you’ve taken the fools food,” Thoddun reminded her. “You visit them, you’ve given them blankets and you’ve had their bindings loosened.”

  “It’s disconcerting when you know everything,” Skarga sniffed. “But I don’t care for any of them, truly I don’t. It’ll be rather intimidating, of course, if I have to face them all together again, Banke and Hakon and my father and Asved too.”

  “As it happens,” said Thoddun, “I hear your elder brother’s stayed at home in charge of the town in your father’s absence. And as for the youngest, well I doubt you’ll be seeing Asved again.”

  Skarga brightened a little. “Really? He didn’t come with Grimr then?”

  “I shall tell you about that another time,” said Thoddun firmly. “For the moment, since everyone else is certainly asleep, I’ve a mind to something else entirely.”