Even her faulty powers of deduction informed Skarga that everyone was certainly not asleep. There were sounds of scuffling in the dark, sniggering between friends, complaints of elbows in ribs, and the kick of boots making off towards the outside snows or the inner depths of the lake. Shadows loomed and shrank in the firelight. “Don’t you ever feel – nervous,” she whispered, “before a battle? I mean, do you know about being afraid? I wouldn’t be able to eat. I’d be sick. Don’t you feel any need to be alone, or to call on the gods?”
“There’s only one ritual I need before battle,” he murmured to her hair. “Forget your human inhibitions, little gosling, the chanting always rouses me, but this time it’s not Shifting I need, it’s you.”
Skarga smiled. “I think everything arouses you.”
“Is that bad?” He looked a little taken aback. “Besides, I can think of one or two things that don’t.”
“Like being fast asleep? Or kneed in the groin?”
“Oh well.” He laughed. “If it was your knee. As for sleeping, it depends on the dreams. Dreams either come dry and fairly dull. Or - otherwise.” He pressed his fingers quickly up along the inside of her thighs, reading her thoughts, then kissed her eyes, licking with a gentle moist warmth, nuzzling the side of her face, behind her ears and down her neck. At the collar of her shift he removed her broaches and kissed down into the deep opening to her cleavage. The heat of his breath across her nipples made her tremble, and he raised his head and kissed her mouth again. She blinked, gazing for a moment into his eyes. They were wide open and watching her, man’s eyes this time, and as brilliant blue as a calving iceberg under the sun.
Without stopping to undress her or himself in the night’s bustling chill, his hands discovered each little tingling curve and valley, sliding beneath her clothes and stroking her into delight. When he finally entered her, she collapsed, hugging him desperately, biting her tongue into silence while he grinned smugly into the soft swell of her breasts and the urgency of her heartbeat, barely moving inside, allowing the pulse of his own climax to build its final rhythm with hers.
It was still dark the following day when the main army began to arrive. Lodver strode straight into the cave with two great white bears at his back. Most of the transanima were still wiping their porridge bowls out with bread, and cheered, raising their ale cups. Banke and the humans at the cavern’s entrance were once more paralysed with terror and made no further sound.
Lodver beamed around him, bowing formally to Thoddun and to Skarga. “We are here, lords,” he said. “And every one of us fresh and eager as a new fledged chick.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Skarga sat high on the bench, cocooned and bolstered. Lodver sprang up beside her, taking the leathers. To one side Kjeld’s towering sled, though now half empty of its stores and parcels, slanted its shadow across the sparkle of the snows. Behind them the host assembled. The land army had many sleds, piled with armour and armoury, tents and furs. Egil and Erik hitched a ride. Many birds and the few remaining sea creatures also rode as men. The bears, remaining Shifted, massed into loose shambling ranks. The sun was up. The sky was patterned like an orca’s flanks, thick clouds blown into patches across the pale horizon. As the sun slipped its reins and swung out from behind the clouds, the dazzle over the land was momentarily blinding and all the world was diamond.
The larger birds flew above, a swooping frenzy of anticipation. The high screeches and windblown wails echoed. Battle fields are the slaughter strewn tables of the raptors, the feasts of the predator. Safn was driving the sled where Egil and Erik had jumped on board, but Wenden, chief of the reserve forces, led channelled, now one of the larger bears, his thick fur almost dusky yellow in the bright light and his shoulders higher than the men’s. No bear marches in line, but most chose the discipline of the army and stayed close rather than trail off and miss the grand arrival. A thousand moist black noses raised and sniffed the air, swaying a little, catching the sweet perfumes of the hunt, not for prey but for battle.
Thoddun had not yet Shifted. He stood at the side of Skarga’s sled, looking up at her, smiling at Lodver. “I’ll travel faster than you my love, since our troops tend to wander and weave. But Lodver will keep them up to speed. You won’t be far behind me. I’ll be watching for your arrival.”
She was wrapped, layered, gloved and caped. The bearskin was all around her, Asved’s wolf pelt across her shoulders, and the fox fur cover over her lap. Her hood was pulled tight down to her forehead. It was Thoddun who had tucked her in. Now he strode off back to the bulk of his army, talking not only to the leaders but to many of the men, whether Shifted or otherwise, and also to the dogs. The light magnified the claw marks across his face, raised now in ragged scars, but he no longer limped and though a little sore on waking after the night’s cramps, the wound in his knee troubled him less each day. He was already out of Skarga’s sight when he finally Shifted and disappeared into the snows.
The dogs were frantic to run, barking and tugging at their leads. A squabble between two younger bears caused a momentary scuffle and a snarl, the birds wheeled and called, and the whole multitude trundled forwards. Even through the sled, Skarga could feel the thundering vibration of the ground. She peeped behind her, blinking in amazement. The enormity of the forces seemed one massive density of flowing, pounding white.
It was not so far to run for a lone bear, even one with a part healed injury to his hind leg. He was strong and well fed and concentrated on speed. Thoddun avoided the pack ice and the coastal hunting grounds, keeping to the tundra with the rising sun on his right. When it was at its greatest spring height and ready once more to dip towards the western horizon, he could already smell the humans who had stolen and soiled his home. Then at last the bear made for the ocean and slipped head first into the freezing waters. He quickly submerged, enjoying the balm of salt water, swimming leisurely towards the flooded dungeons of his castle. It was dark again when he came up. He Shifted at once, flung the wet hair back from his eyes, then stayed a little to talk to the men and sea creatures he had left there. Finally Thoddun climbed the old stone steps and returned to his bed chamber. Three of the wild ones were slumped in the corridor against his door. He grinned. “Are you here to keep me in? Or keep me out?”
They did not seem entirely sure. The oldest, a grizzled wolf eyed man, nodded. “I’m tired of following men’s orders. You do what you like. My wolf is calling.” He slouched off into the shadows. Then another shrugged, turned and followed his friend.
The last snarled. “My brother’s been sent out with half the pack to search for you. You’ve come back on your own? Well, that’s my duty done.” He dropped to all fours and Shifted, running hurriedly in the opposite direction. Thoddun ignored them all and walked into his room. It was empty. He stretched himself on the bed, crossed his ankles, clasped his hands behind his head, gazed across at the twisting lacework of the waterfall and its silver dance through the chill darkness, He called silently to Knut.
In his father’s room, the boy stared across to where Grimr stood, gazing aimlessly from the high narrow window. Knut had been sharpening his knife and found the rhythmic scrape of metal on stone soothing.
He looked up suddenly and blinked. “Thoddun’s back,” he said.
The wind had dropped. Its plaintive whine through the scattered moraine was silenced beneath the rumble of laden sleds, the panting of the dogs and the patient pounding of more than four thousand huge bear paws through the growing darkness. “When you’re hungry, lady,” Lodver said, “tell me. We’ve still cold meat stored, a little stale bread and some raw carcasses for tonight’s camp.”
Skarga shook her head. “I won’t be hungry for a week. I’m more impatient to get to the castle.”
“That’ll be tomorrow lady,” Lodver said. “And it’ll need some coaxing to make it that fast. Lord Thoddun, well he’ll have arrived by now, but there’s too many of us, and too wayward a people we are, to keep in line. But tomorrow we’ll b
e there. The lord has ordered us to mass outside, all around the main walls. We’ll make a good show of it, don’t worry.”
“Fafnir and Sigurd couldn’t make a better show,” Skarga smiled. “We’re – nothing less than – astonishing.”
Lodver cleared his throat tentatively. “And would you be wanting to see to the prisoners at all, lady? Seeing as how they’re human. Karr has them in hand back there on the last sled, but no doubt they’re a little intimidated. Cold and hungry perhaps.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Skarga with feelings of certain gloom. “I’m sure they are – all of that. But I’ll check on them when we stop for the night. I don’t want to delay anything while we’re still on the way.”
Aware that Lodver was not normally a talkative man and was simply being polite, she lapsed into silence. Lodver cleared his throat again with a neat cough. “I shouldn’t like,” he said carefully, “to give an impression of ignorance or prejudice, lady. I must truly hope what you’re saying isn’t – entirely – true.”
Skarga pushed back the overhang of her hood. “But I didn’t say anything.”
“Ah.” Lodver blushed beneath his little pointed beard. “I’m sorry about that. Should I not do it?”
“You mean read my thoughts?” Skarga sighed. “Why not? Everyone else does. Besides, I’ve been told none of you can help it.”
“Can be hard to tell the difference,” Lodver explained, “whether the words are said aloud – or not. Unless you watch the mouth. But I can try, lady. I’d hate to be insulting.”
Skarga struggled for words. “I’m very bad at hiding my thoughts, you see. I never learned. Humans don’t normally – see the need.” The wind was freezing her nose and she pulled her hood back around her ears. “I suppose,” she continued, “you’d all sooner have a transanima queen. I expect I’m a bit of a disappointment.”
Her thoughts betrayed her again. “The werewoman was unpopular,” Lodver said at once. “Of course we feel more comfortable with our own kind. Doesn’t everyone? But not with her. She caused a good deal of trouble when she was the dominant female here, not just when you knew her, lady, but long before. When she had top place, she risked it all the time. Perhaps she just liked danger.”
“Don’t you all respect that?”
Lodver frowned. “Not if it’s spiteful. Not if it upsets the system. We like system. We like rules. We break the rules, but we like to know what we’re breaking.”
Skarga looked down at her small gloved hands clasped tight in her lap. “But for him to whip her himself.” Lodver remained respectfully silent and stared ahead at the dog’s fluffy tails waving in the slap of the wind. Eventually, after readjusting her position, Skarga said. “I suppose you don’t agree?”
Lodver looked startled. “Did you say that out loud, lady? I apologise. I believed it was another thought, so I pretended I hadn’t heard it.”
Skarga sighed. “Humans must be such a trial to you all. And you’re quite right. If I had any sense, I wouldn’t have spoken aloud. None of the past is my business.”
Lodver shook his dark head. “The dominant female, well she can choose what she likes as her business, lady. Just that you don’t know the habits of our people, and that’s more a trial to you than to us. You see, there’s no one else could punish the lead female, except the lead male. And well, the temptation was enormous. There’s more than a few of us would have liked to whip the she-wolf senseless, the way she tormented us all. But it wasn’t our place. We were subordinate, whether we liked it or not you see. As we all are to you, lady.”
“Whether you like it or not.”
Lodver smiled wide. “We’re getting to like it, lady. That I promise. You’re much admired as it happens.”
Skarga pushed her hood back again. It was worth the cold to see Lodver’s expression. He didn’t look as though he was teasing. “Admired?” she asked rather faintly.
“Indeed,” he answered. “For your loyalty and courage, lady. And if our lord’s chosen a human, well we accept she must be something rather special. We’re beginning to understand that you are.”
Grimr flung open the hanging furs and marched into Thoddun’s chamber. Knut trotted behind, keeping a cautious distance. Thoddun was still at ease on the bed, his eyes closed. He did not open them. He said, “Come in little brother. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Grimr said, “Where the Hel have you been?” More plaintive than angry.
“Overseeing my armies,” Thoddun replied. “And visiting my woman.”
Grimr took a step back. “My slave bitch, you mean. That you stole from me.”
Thoddun smiled slightly, eyes remaining closed. “I do hate contradicting you, Grimr,” he said quietly, “since it tends to give credence to all your otherwise undisputed remarks. But you really must stop insulting my wife. I know you just want to annoy me, but it really doesn’t work. It simply sounds petulant. It’s remarkably immature of you.”
“Why did you come back?” Grimr demanded.
“To resurrect your wolf,” said Thoddun.
Grimr snapped his mouth shut and flung himself down, slumped on the end of the bed, facing his brother. “I don’t believe in your armies. I’m not sure I believe in the slave woman. I know you had her here in this bed for I still smell her here. But why hide her? Frightened she’d run back to me, and leave you for her first lover?”
Thoddun laughed. “If you want my co-operation, my dear, you should learn diplomacy. You imagine your rapes and tortures made her consider you her lover? She loathes and despises you. And feared you once, though no longer. And has no conception of course, of your feelings for her. She believes you hated her utterly. Why would she not? You see, I know a great deal of what you did. I haven’t asked but I read it in her mind.” He sat up so suddenly that Grimr flinched and moved back. Thoddun swung his legs to the floor and strode over to the long bench where he took two silver cups and a dust covered flask of wine. He filled both cups and came back to the bed. Knut remained standing quietly in the shadows beside the door hangings and Thoddun ignored him. He handed one cup to Grimr, and drank from the other, sitting again on the bed. “Drink. It’s all that’s left of the Iberian grape I had here before your men came.”
Grimr frowned, and drank. “I’m not interested in the woman anymore,” he said.
“Don’t be absurd. You forget I know your thoughts.” Thoddun smiled. “But we shall talk of other things indeed. You’ve some excuse for the way you feel and the things you do. I intend to help, if I can. Tell the boy to go away.”
“Why?” said Knut from the doorway.
“I’ve discovered that humans,” said Thoddun, “have a preference for privacy in certain matters. I am learning the habit.” He turned and nodded towards Knut. “Come back later, and bring food. I’ll call when I want you.”
“Well, it’ll be raw meat, or cold stale bread,” Knut muttered. “No one can light a fire and the men’ve finished all the cooked provisions they found in the cellars.”
“By the three norns and all the Valkyries,” Thoddun laughed, “isn’t there even a wolfman in the place who can conjure a spark?”
Knut shook his head. “Most of them don’t care. They go out to hunt for themselves, and anyway, my father ordered them to act human while they’re here with men watching.”
“Well I’m not lighting fires for your wretched invaders to feast on my remaining stores.” Thoddun waved Knut away and turned back to Grimr. “So, little brother. What do you want from me?”
Grimr watched Knut leave. He said, “What have you done with Ingmar?”
“Ah.” Thoddun smiled slightly. “I’m afraid he drowned.”
Grimr sighed and looked down at his lap. “You knew him as a boy. He was a friend of yours. Why kill him now?”
“I’m sorry,” Thoddun said quietly. “I know what he meant to you. But it’s probable all your people will die before you leave here.”
Grimr glanced up, smiling suddenly. “And me, big b
rother? Do you want to kill me too?”
“I’ve considered it,” replied Thoddun. “But for now, it’s bringing you back to life that interests me. If the boy is really your son, then your wolf is not entirely dead.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Thoddun cradled Grimr’s face gently against his chest, the soft russet of his brother’s hair tousled against his tunic, pale silk on stained undyed flax.
He first prepared his mind. Carefully controlling each assumed or possible reaction, Thoddun anticipated the full power of Grimr’s inner condition. The inert wolf within was only one part of the decay he already smelled. There would be the great blackness of Grimr’s memories and desires. Thoddun had dismissed the boy because of it. The boy read thoughts. For the journey inside his brother’s mind, Thoddun required an uncomplicated and uncritical silence.
He put both his hands to Grimr’s head, and breathed very deeply. His focus was absolute. The flesh of his fingertips tingled, cringing as though trapped in fire. His palms cupped over his brother’s ears, enclosing them in soft underwater echoes so that the noises of the real world were distorted and denied. The small spit of the little candle Thoddun had lit beside the bed, the tumbling of the waterfall, their own deep breath vaporising on the air, the scratch of boots over fur, the faint creak of the mattress over its slats and rustle of the silken covers; all actual sound fading.
They lay together on the bed, closely embraced as Thoddun had often lain with Skarga. Now he banished all thoughts of the woman. They were of the same height, but Grimr curled up his knees, and sighed. Thoddun’s fingers caressed Grimr’s forehead and smoothed the furrowed lines of bitterness. “Do you trust me, little brother?” he murmured. “I shall take you running with me. But I cannot gather your spirit if you suspect my intentions or fear anything I might do.”
Stars and a Wind- The Complete Trilogy Page 72