The Girl the Sea Gave Back(25)

They would do the same to every village between here and the fjord and by the time the leaders in Hylli knew what was happening, it would be too late.

“I’ll go.” Bard didn’t wait for an answer, pulling himself up into his saddle.

Asmund watched his brother, managing not to protest even though I could see he wanted to.

“Warn them of what’s coming and send them to M?or.” The mountain village would be the safest place to wait it out, and the farthest from the Svell’s reach. They didn’t have time to get to Virki with so many of the enemy already in the valley. “Meet us in Aurvanger. Or don’t. This isn’t your fight if you don’t want it to be.”

“I go where Asmund goes.” Bard leaned forward, stroking the snout of his black horse. The worn, red Aska leathers that their father had probably taken into battle still stretched across the animal’s chest. “If I’m not in Aurvanger by sundown tomorrow, leave without me.”

Asmund gave him a nod and he reached down to take his arm, pulling his brother into him. I wondered if they’d ever been apart in the years since they left Hylli. We’d all been boys in Virki when the Aska and Riki fought the Herja, and they’d come back to an empty home on the fjord. Since then, it had been just the two of them.

Bard turned the horse and took off down the bank of the river, disappearing around the bend. If he hurried, maybe the Svell would find no more than an empty village when they arrived in Utan.

“How long will it take to get to the fjord?” Kjeld finally broke the silence, his fingers still wound in his bracelet.

I arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re coming?”

He shrugged, holding out a handful of tree moss to me. “Where else am I going to go?”

But there was a look hidden beneath his easy eyes, a dark shadow that always seemed to be there. I’d often wondered how Kjeld ended up with Asmund. How he’d come to wander the mainland and what he’d done to be cast out from his own people. Mysteries surrounding him, the way fog shrouded the headlands. Only myths made their way down the narrow sliver of land that arched up from the mainland to the frozen north. A place where the thaw never came, the mist so thick that the blue sky was never seen.

“Thank you.” I took the moss from him. “You’re sure the Kyrr haven’t joined with the Svell?” I asked again.

“I’m sure.” He went to the water’s edge, crouching down to wash up the length of his arms beneath his sleeves. The Kyrr marks were knotted so tightly that in some places, you couldn’t even see the color of his skin.

I lifted my tunic, inspecting the burn at my side. The gash was closed and the bleeding had stopped, but it wouldn’t protect me from the infection that I was sure would come. The tree moss would help keep it clean until I got home. I dipped it into the water to rinse it of the dirt and bark and then held my breath as I pressed it against the raw skin. The pain shot up and over my body until I could feel it in my hands, a singeing burn that made it difficult to draw another breath. I bandaged it tightly, until the sting was numbed enough to move.

“Ready?” Asmund held out the reins to me and I looked up to the horse.

Its amber hide reminded me of Aghi’s horse, the color of warm sunsets over the mountain. The orange light that spilled onto the tree trunks and made everything look like it was on fire.

War is easy.

His words echoed in my mind, and I swallowed hard against the pain in my throat. He’d survived a lifetime of the fighting seasons to protect the fjord and see a new future for his people. Now, I wondered what we would say when we were reunited with him in the afterlife. If we’d have to tell him that it was all gone. The fjord. Our people. The future.

All of it.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


TOVA


Gunther kept his distance, riding behind as I led us into the forest outside of Ljós, but I could feel his stare at my back. He and Jorrund didn’t speak as we headed away from the glow of the Svell camp. It was expanding every hour as more warriors arrived from the west.

Vigdis had sent word before we’d ever even set out for Ljós, his plan to betray his brother and kill the Nādhir fully conceived since the night I’d cast the runes. I wondered what he would have done if the runes had said something different. If they’d held fortune instead of ruin. But he’d moved against Ljós before that night, and I told myself that the weight of the lives in the Nādhir village and in the glade didn’t fall on me. But even if it were true, I’d still played a part. I’d justified his plan. Confirmed it. Hagalaz was the excuse that Vigdis needed.

We walked in silence, the sounds of night growing in the forest as the sun began to fall. Jorrund waited in the shadows tucked under the trees, his arms tucked in his robes as the tall grass pushed and pulled around him. He didn’t like the idea of summoning the Spinners, but he knew we didn’t have a choice. He was too afraid to call out to Eydis after the betrayal at the glade. He’d try to earn back the honor he’d lost before he went to face his god. And the only way to do it was to be sure the Svell were the ones left standing on the bloodied earth. But Jorrund had too much faith in Eydis. The gods could be even more treacherous than mortals.

I eyed my bow, strapped to Gunther’s horse beside his leg. “Do you owe Vigdis some debt, like you did Jorrund?”