Sky in the Deep(48)



I listened to the Tala pray for the fallen Riki, asking Thora to accept them. To keep them until their families joined them in the afterlife. There was no emotion on her face as she spoke. The light in her eyes was dim, but there was still a surety thick in her voice. She was steady and firm. And I could feel each of the Riki holding onto her strength, eagerly looking to her to keep them from flying away on the wind of grief.

The heat of the fire pushed against us and the roaring sound of it found the bitter cries of the mourning, swallowing them up too. I’d heard that sound many times. Usually when we came home from fighting and families searched for the missing faces of loved ones.

There was no sound like that—like the soul tearing.

“Heill para,” she called out, looking up to the sky.

“Heill para.” The words repeated on the lips of every Riki and Fiske’s deep voice sounded at my back.

Safe travels.

The Tala walked across the front of the altar, to a man who was weeping with his shoulders hunched over beneath a thick fur. She whispered into his ear and the choking sobs slowed. He quieted and she looked up into his face before letting him go again and moving to the next person.

I was glad I didn’t know what he’d lost. Who he’d lost.

The bodies of the Riki burned, sending black smoke up into the air. The souls were headed for Frier, on their way to see lost loved ones. I closed my eyes, trying to push down the dread that was still lingering in my mind. Wondering if I’d be weeping for my father’s soul in two days’ time.

People peeled off from the crowd and I looked for Iri. He stood with Runa, who stared into the flames, her cheeks red on her ashen face. His arm touched hers as her little sister wrapped her arms around Iri’s leg, holding tight.

More Riki fell away, slowly walking down the path back into the village, and I made my way to them. The sharp light of the flames reflected in Runa’s tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, still thinking of my father.

She nodded, swallowing, before she bent down to pick up her sister and followed her mother down the path. Iri watched them.

“You should stay.” I said.

Iri shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I can make it to Hylli. Your place is here, with her.” I nodded toward Runa. “You’ll have to fight. Soon. You may not have much time left with her.”

He looked down at me, his eyes scanning my face for what I wasn’t saying. “What is it?”

I wrapped my arms around myself, now cold away from the fire. “I don’t know what they will do to you—the Aska. I should talk to them first.”

He nodded, understanding my meaning. There was no way to know how they would react to the truth about Iri. “Alright.”

*

I waited for Fiske and Iri outside of the ritual house, watching the last embers of the fire smolder on the altar. The bodies were nothing but ash now, their spirits and flesh gone from this world.

The warriors had gathered to hear Vidr’s plan, but when I tried to go in, two Riki shut the doors on me. I sat against the wall, my fingers hooked into each other, and listened. I could hear them, piping up to argue or calling out in agreement, but it was mostly quiet and I didn’t like the feeling that had fallen over the village. The Riki had always been a capable enemy. They were strong. If they were unsure of what direction to take it meant that they were afraid.

When the doors finally opened, I stood, falling into step beside Iri as he and Fiske came through the doors. “What did he say?”

He was tired and it was beginning to show on his face. It leaked into the grinding of his voice. “They’re going to meet the other village leaders to find out how many we’ve lost. How much help we might need.”

“From the Aska,” I murmured under my breath.

He stopped. “The Herja are too many, Eelyn.”

I turned back to him, my throat constricting. “You know that will never happen.” I shifted on my feet. “Maybe they will leave. Like last time.”

“This isn’t like last time,” he said, almost sadly.

And I knew it was true. When the Herja came before, they only came once. And there hadn’t been so many dead. There hadn’t been so much destroyed. This was different.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, the weight of it sinking in. The Herja that came to Fela could only be a small group of them. There were probably many, many more than either clan knew.

Fiske opened the door, going inside, and he was talking to Inge a moment later, leaving Iri and me alone.

“What did he say?” I asked. Fiske was sitting on the table next to Halvard, checking his nose again.

“He’s going to go with you.”

I breathed, “Why?”

“Eelyn, does everything have to be hard with you?” He shook his head. “You need him to go. He’s going.”

He stepped around me and Inge touched his arm as he passed. She looked at me as I came in and then her eyes went to Fiske.

“They’re gathering. We should go.” He stood.

I picked up my weapons from the bench and fit them into place. Halvard jumped down from the table and ran outside, his feet slapping on the stone.

“You’ll be careful, sváss.” Inge lifted Fiske’s chin to look at her. “And then you’ll come back.”

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