Sky in the Deep(41)

Above me, Halvard peered over the edge of the loft. “What’s happening?” Tears glistened in his eyes.

There was no point in coddling him. He knew what a raid was. “Where are your weapons?”

He disappeared over the ledge and a few minutes later, he came down the ladder with his scabbard fit to him. He went to the trunk against the wall and pulled out a belt with a knife in it.

He handed it to me. “It was my father’s.”

I pulled it around his waist, tying the leather into a knot because it was too big to fit him. But it would do. He could reach it and that was all that mattered.

I knelt down in front of him, looking up into his eyes. “Have you ever killed a man?”

He shook his head skittishly.

“Do you know how? Where to strike?”

“I—I think so.”

“Show me.”

His small, shaking hand lifted, pressing to my neck. I nodded. Then he dropped it down to my stomach, my side, my lower back.

“That’s right.” I tried to smile. “Are you better with a sword or a knife?” I knew he wasn’t very good with the axe. I’d seen it.

“Sword.” He lifted his chin and tried to pull the nerves back inside.

“Alright. Take a deep breath and listen to what I’m about to tell you.”

He obeyed, inhaling slowly and standing up straight in front of me.

“In a moment, someone will come through that door. They will try to kill us or take us, but I’m going to kill them before that happens.”

He nodded.

“If they kill me, or they take me, it will be your job to kill them. Understand?”

“Yes.”

I uttered the words that had once been said to me, the night my mother died. “You run into the forest. You don’t stop until morning. No matter what.”

The sound of screaming echoed in my head, taking me back to that night in Hylli. Running barefoot in the trees. Iri before me. My father’s deep, grinding voice behind me.

Run!

Halvard’s eyes danced over my face. “Alright.”

“You don’t try to help me. You don’t come back for Inge or Fiske or Iri. You run. You leave them behind.”

The night Iri pulled me into the forest was the same night I’d become a warrior. If he survived, this would be that night for Halvard too.

The tears smarted in his eyes again.

“Don’t cry,” I ordered, standing. “If you die tonight, you’ll see your father in Frier. Right?”

He smiled, sniffing. “Right.”

The door creaked and Halvard’s face fell, his eyes going wide. I turned to stand in front of him, sliding my sword from its sheath slowly.

A figure stood in the open doorway.

And I knew right away. My sword almost fell from my grasp, my heart stopping. A wildfire of fear ran over me and I tried to pull air into my lungs. I blinked.

Slick, shining furs. The glint of silver. White, dead eyes.

Herja.

My eyes ran over him. His long stringy hair fell down around his face and he stared down at me with no expression. I eyed the sword in his hand and stepped back slowly.

“It’s just a dyr,” he called back over his shoulder, his eyes on the collar around my neck.

Another man came into view behind him, glancing inside, and then disappeared.

“Stay back, Halvard,” I said calmly, my heart finding its rhythm again.

He obeyed, moving toward the wall on the other side of the fire, his small sword in his hand.

The Herja took a step toward us and the blood ran faster under my skin. Reaching every muscle. I watched his movements carefully, sinking into my feet and finding my balance. He looked around the house, his eyes taking stock. What he wanted to take. And who he wanted to kill.

I watched, waiting for it.

One breath.

He pulled his knife free.

Two breaths.

He took another step.

Three breaths.

He leapt toward me and I reached for the pot on the fire, taking it by the handle and flinging it toward him. It hit him in the chest, knocking him over, and he howled, the hot stew burning his dirt-smeared skin. He slid on the wet stone, looking up at me with shock lighting on his face.

Then he was moving again. I tightened my grip on my sword and pulled my axe free as he stood, using the momentum to swing it around and catch his armor vest. But he was still standing with his sword rising up over my head. I swung again, this time for his legs, and he barreled into me. I hit the floor, losing the sword, and the axe slid, hitting the wall next to Halvard. I scrambled after it as more screams rang out in the dark.

Maybe Runa. Maybe Inge.

“Eelyn!” Halvard yelped behind me and I rolled as the sword came down on the stone next to me, sending sparks flying out around us. I grabbed the axe, sitting up, and snapped it down over my head. The hot pain in my shoulder erupted again as the axe flew, cutting through the air and sinking into the man’s thigh. His sword dropped to the ground, clanging.

I sprang to my feet, getting to it before he did, and reared it back before piercing it down into his side with a shriek. He coiled in on himself, crying out, and the other Herja appeared in the doorway again, looking from me to the man writhing on the ground.

He ran toward us, his sword ready at his side, and I lifted the axe from the man’s leg and threw it. It spun in the air until it plunked into his ribs. It was a bad throw, but it hit him. He fell to one knee, trying to stand, and I ran to him, taking up the sword on the ground and running it through his middle.