The Girl the Sea Gave Back(12)

He blinked, his blue eyes as clear as the cold waters of the fjord. “I’m afraid that one day, after I’ve gone to the afterlife, and my children come to meet me, they will tell me our people lost the peace we found when I lived in this world.” He breathed. “There will always be war, Halvard. War is easy. It comes again and again, like waves to a shore. But I lived most of my life driven by hate, and I don’t want that for my grandchildren. Or yours.” He reached a hand out for me. “Now, help an old man get off his horse so he can take a piss.”

I smiled, taking his arm against mine and leaning back as he slid down to the ground with a grunt.

Far ahead, Espen and the warriors from Hylli waited on the path where the land dipped down into the deeper part of the forest. The wind wound around them and up toward us, the sharp tinge of ash carried from beyond the trees, where Ljós was waiting.





CHAPTER FIVE


TOVA


We stood in the blacksmith’s stall in the darkening light as he turned the sword over in the forge a final time. Vigdis’ gaze was pinned to the dirt beneath the smith’s feet, but Bekan watched patiently as the hilt of the weapon was set with a large stone of amber, the symbol for peace engraved on the tip of its shining blade.

The day had been uncomfortably quiet, the tension of the Svell leaders visible as they caught each other’s sideways glances. I could see Jorrund watching them all closely, his eyes suspicious. He hadn’t spoken a word since we stood outside the ritual house waiting for Bekan that afternoon.

Vigdis was furious when his brother ordered the blacksmith to take the sword he’d been crafting for Vigdis and finish it as the offering of reparation to the Nādhir chieftain. He’d called Bekan a coward after the others disappeared through the doors of the ritual house, but when Bekan threatened to take Vigdis’ position as village leader of H?lkn and give it to someone with more loyalty, he agreed through gritted teeth to go with him to Ljós.

Now, Vigdis stood, staring into the fire with his thumbs hooked into his belt, his long black hair waving around his face. “And if they don’t accept?” His eyes rose to meet Bekan’s as he asked the question.

“They’re not fools. They’ll accept,” he answered.

Jorrund nodded in agreement. “We’ll make a sacrifice at dawn and ask Eydis to give us her favor.”

The smith pounded the blade on the anvil and I flinched against the ear-splitting ring. The sword was almost as long as I was tall and the smith struggled to keep it steady. I’d never seen another blade like it, the intricate hilt and setting of stones was beautiful, the curves of the blade expertly crafted. It would have been a weapon of great pride for Vigdis. Now, it would serve as his humiliation in the hands of his enemy. If the Nādhir chieftain accepted it, the Svell would owe him a debt in exchange for peace.

When it was finished, the smith held it up for inspection and Bekan gave an approving nod. “Vigdis.” He said his brother’s name, gesturing toward the smith, who waited before them.

Vigdis’ jaw clenched as he realized what was behind Bekan’s unspoken words. He would still pay for the sword with his own penningr.

He met Bekan’s eyes for a long moment before he finally reached for his belt, yanking his purse free. He didn’t bother asking how much, emptying every coin into the smith’s open hand. The man backed away slowly, the penningr clutched to his chest and his eyes averted as Vigdis’ fury filled the wavering silence around us.

The others started for the gates and Bekan kept his voice low as he walked beside Jorrund, sliding the new sword into the second sheath at his back. They’d both get what they wanted if the Nādhir accepted the offering. The border village and any disputes with its leader would be gone now that Ljós had fallen. They’d made a show of force to the Nādhir people, cementing their position of power and strength. And war wouldn’t take the lives of the warriors they may one day need for another battle.

But Bekan’s faith in Eydis’ favor was too great. Even after Vera, he still didn’t fear the web of fate the way I did. He still couldn’t feel the power it held over the days ahead. Even then, I could sense it shifting, its threads unwinding and then weaving into new patterns. It was in the feel of the wind. The silence of the forest. The Spinners were at work and I was the only one who could see it.

We reached the gates of Liera, where the Svell village leaders and a band of thirty warriors waited. A wordless exchange passed between Vigdis and Siv and I watched her fist tighten around her belt. As long as Bekan stayed chieftain of the Svell, he would value peace over war. And I wondered if Vigdis and the others could live the rest of their mortal lives without spilling more enemy blood.

The half moon rose up in the sky as we rode into the forest and it cast a pale light on the earth that made me uneasy. It had been Jorrund’s job to keep the divide between the Svell leaders contained in the last years and he was growing weary of it, convinced the tide was turning more forcefully than Bekan could control. But Bekan was more confident in his brother. He put his faith in all the wrong things.

“The runes were clear,” Vigdis said, slowing until his horse fell into step on the other side of Jorrund.

Jorrund’s gaze drifted to me, but I looked ahead as if I couldn’t hear them. Staying below Vigdis’ notice was the only way to keep my neck from his blade.