Icefall (21 page)

“Solveig?”

I snap inside. “What?”

She inches closer to me. “Thank you.”

I ignore her.

“You saved me.”

I roll away, but she reaches out and takes my arm.

“You were so brave,” she says. “You stood up to him —”

“Why didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t
you
stand up to him?”

She lets me go, and in disgust I move to the edge of the closet, as far from her as I can.

“I’m not strong like you,” she says.

I mumble into the wall. “You could be.”

“No, I couldn’t. And besides. Gunnlaug is only what I deserve.”

That pulls me back some of the distance toward her, mostly out of pity. But I don’t want her to know it. I want her to come the rest of the way and be honest with me.

“This is all my fault,” she says.

I wait.

“We never meant for any of this to happen. Solveig, I’m so sorry.”

It isn’t far enough. “What did you do?”

She exhales. “I love him. I do. But Father would never have allowed it.”

“And?”

“We only did it so we could be together. That was all.”

“Asa, what did you do?”

“When Gunnlaug first came to Father’s hall, Per knew he wanted land more than he wanted me. So he met with Gunnlaug in secret and made him an offer.”

I do not want to hear it, but I have to know. “What offer?”

“If Gunnlaug agreed to let Per have me, then Per would deliver Gunnlaug the lands that he wanted.”

So Asa is a traitor, too. My sister. I should have known it from the beginning, and maybe I did, but couldn’t admit it. The enemy has been in my own bedcloset all along. I feel sick.

“Gunnlaug and Per arranged every thing,” she says. “The declaration of war, Father sending us here, all of it. Per suggested this fjord as a hiding place. It was supposed to make it easier. Gunnlaug would come here and take us all prisoner. Father would ransom his lands and me to have Harald safely returned, and Gunnlaug would then give me to Per. So easy. But the plan failed when Father sent the berserkers.”

“You poisoned them,” I whisper in horror.

“No! Of course not,” she says. “I would never — no one was supposed to be hurt.”

Before I can ask my next question, she says, “And it wasn’t Per, either. I know it.”

“Then it was Ole?”

“Believe me, Solveig, we didn’t even know Ole was loyal to Gunnlaug until Per confronted him for spying on you down by the runestone. Per wanted to find other ways to weaken the berserkers.”

“Like killing the cows?”

“Yes. But Ole didn’t think it was enough. Gunnlaug was coming, and he didn’t expect to find Hake and a force of Father’s best warriors waiting for him.”

All these answers rain down on me like boulders.

“And then,” she says, “when Gunnlaug finally came, Per wanted to make sure he kept his end of the bargain. That was why he tried to hide us in the old larder.”

I cover my ears. “Stop.”

“I never meant for anyone to be hurt.”

“Just stop.”

She begins to cry again. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me, Solveig. Forgive me.”

Forgive her? I can’t, and my anger robs me of any desire to try. Forgive her? How many are dead because of her? Her selfishness. Her cowardice. Her weakness. There is nothing in
her worth honoring, aside from her beauty, and even that has been darkened by the emptiness behind it.

So I don’t answer her.

“Even if you can’t forgive me,” she says, “I wanted you to at least understand.”

“I’ll never understand you,” I say. “Do you realize that I told that story tonight to save you? What about Raudi? What about Hake and Alric and Bera? They are out in the larder, freezing, because I was trying to save you! You deserve worse than to be with Gunnlaug.”

Her sobbing intensifies.

And because I am angry, and I don’t think she has hurt enough, I say, “Per is alive.”

Her crying stops.

I continue. “He is alive, and he knows that Gunnlaug is going to marry you, and he is too much of a coward to do anything to stop it.”

The silence that follows is wide enough for a little guilt to slide in.

“How do you know this?” she whispers.

I hesitate now. “He told me.”

“You’ve seen him?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Solveig.” She grasps my hand, her fingers soft and cold. “I
know what you think of me, and you are right. But I beg of you, you must tell me where he is.”

She is still only thinking of herself. I begin to cry then; I can’t hold it back. I am so tired of crying.

No one is who they say they are, not even my sister. I was such a fool. Only a few months ago, I thought so much of Per. He was so kind, so handsome, so strong, but I see through it all now. So much has changed since then, and only now am I aware of it.
I
have changed. I am stronger. I am braver. And I have not surrendered.

“Please,” Asa says.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t trust you. If I tell you where he is, you’ll go to him, and Gunnlaug will find out, and he’ll punish all of us.”

“I won’t.”

I roll away from her.

“Solveig, I won’t.”

“Sleep, Asa.”

She says nothing more. I close my eyes and try not to think about her, or Per, or poisoned berserkers, or Hake’s leg, or how cold it is tonight, but for what seems a very long time, I can’t think of anything else. Guilt and anger consume me until nothing is left but exhaustion. There is a wind grasping at the hall, and not even the groaning of the glacier can drown it out.

S
houts awaken me in the middle of the night, a man out in the hall calling cries of alarm.

I sit up. “Asa?”

No reply.

I sweep my hand through an empty bed beside me, and I am not surprised to find her gone. I open the bedcloset door and peer out into the hall. One of Gunnlaug’s men charges up and down the ranks of his sleeping comrades, kicking and pulling them awake.

“Fire! The cowshed burns!”

Men rush to pull on clothes and boots. They race outside through opened doors, into an orange light that forces its way into the hall. I smell smoke.

Gunnlaug storms among them, dragging Harald behind him. “Outside, all of you!”

“It was Per, sir!” the watchman shouts. “I saw him running into the woods as the fire started.”

Per started it? I remember the last words I said to him, my accusations and contempt, and I wonder if I somehow stirred him to action.

Gunnlaug nods. “Gather as many men as can be spared from the blaze. Double the guard on the ships. Tell the rest to come to me. We’re going after him.”

“Yes, sir.”

As his warrior races outside, Gunnlaug turns toward the bedcloset. He sees me.

“You and your sister get out of here. The fire could spread to the hall.”

“My sister is gone,” I say.

He laughs. “Of course she is. Well, come out and see to your brother.” He heaves Harald toward me. “Keep him safe and out of the way.”

I nod and climb out of the bedcloset. Gunnlaug marches outside, and I am left alone with my brother. He watches as I pull on my boots and lace them up.

“Asa is gone?” Harald says.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I think she went to find Per.” I look up and call to Muninn. A moment later, he comes flapping
down from the rafters to my shoulder. “Stay with me now,” I say to him.

“What are we going to do?” Harald asks.

“For now, what Gunnlaug said to do. I’m going to keep you safe.”

“What’s that?”

“What?”

Harald points at Muninn. “He’s got something in his mouth.”

I turn to look closely and see that my raven is holding a black key in his beak. The larder key.

I take it from him and kiss his head right between his blinking eyes. “You mischievous, magical bird.”

“Can we use that to help Hake and the others escape?” Harald asks.

“Yes.” In the chaos of the fire, and with Gunnlaug hunting Per through the woods, this might be the only chance we’ll have. But where will we go? We could hide in the cave, but there is no way of knowing what Per or Ole have told Gunnlaug of the fjord. The cave could defend us, but it could trap us, too, and become our tomb. Then there are the ships, but with the guards doubled, we’d never succeed in taking one, and with all the men Gunnlaug has at oar, we’d never outrun him anyway. The mountain pass is the only remaining escape from the fjord, and it may still be frozen shut. But what choice do we have?

“Let’s go,” I say.

I lead him across the hall, but as we pass the hearth, I see
Hake’s war hammer still resting there. I reach for it to bring it with us, unsure of whether I have the strength to carry it, but Harald stops me.

“Let me,” he says. He takes it with both hands, grunts, and heaves it up over his shoulder, wincing a little under the weight.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

He tightens his lips and gives a quick nod.

“All right, then.”

We reach the doors and pass through them into a red and angry world. The cowshed is lost, engulfed in a column of flame that rises high into the sky. Waves of heat roll away from it, beating my face. Gunnlaug’s men race back and forth extinguishing the bits of burning debris and ash carried away by the wind, trying to prevent the fire from spreading to the other buildings or the trees. Harald stares.

“Hurry,” I whisper and tug him on.

I keep a constant glance over my shoulder as we approach the larder door. No one has noticed us yet. I insert the key and twist the lock. The door opens, and Raudi stands before me, his arms outstretched, shielding his mother. Alric kneels on the ground.

Raudi lowers his arms. “Solveig?”

“Everyone, come with me,” I say. “There isn’t much time.”

But then Alric gets up, and I see Hake lying there. My heart lurches. I haven’t given a thought to how we’ll move him. Alric and Raudi help him as he struggles to his feet.

“Go on,” he says. “I’m fine.”

“You can’t walk on that leg,” Bera says.

Hake gently pushes her away. “Yes, I can.” He limps to the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Alric asks.

“The mountain pass,” I say. But that was before I had thought about Hake.

The berserker’s eyes fall for a moment, but then he rolls his shoulders back and points at the war hammer Harald carries. “I believe that’s mine.”

My brother frowns at Hake’s leg. “I can carry it for you.”

Hake hesitates a moment before nodding. “Meet behind the hall at the woodpile. We’ll take turns so we don’t draw attention. Raudi, you go first, then you, Bera.”

Mother and son nod, and one at a time, they duck across the yard. Alric follows after them, then Harald.

As soon as my brother has disappeared around the corner, Hake turns to me. “Now, you go. And when you reach the woodpile, start up the ravine and don’t stop. I’ll be right behind you.”

I am about to leave him, but something in the tone of his voice stops me. I turn back. “I want you to go first.”

He ignores me. “Hurry, that fire won’t keep them occupied much longer.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

The berserker touches my arm. “You know there’s no way
I’ll make it up there. If I go with you, I’ll only slow you down. If I stay here, in the larder, I can buy you some time. Now, leave me.”

I shake my head.

“Go,” he hisses, and tries to push me out the door.

But I fight back. “No. You serve my father, and so you serve me. And I am ordering you, as the captain of my father’s berserker guard, to escort me to the woodpile behind the hall. And from there, you will see me safely up to the mountain pass. Is that understood?”

He stares at me with more surprise than I have ever seen on his face.

“I’m waiting, Captain.”

He lifts one of his eyebrows, and then the corners of his lips. “Let’s go,” he says.

Muninn flutters to the ground as we lean on each other and stumble forward, emerging into the open just as the cowshed finally collapses in an explosion of sparks that sends burning wood flying. Falling embers sizzle all around us as they hit the snow. I worry about Muninn hopping along beside us, but he appears to be keeping up.

Hake’s body is heavy against me, heavier than I thought it would be. I don’t know how long I can support him. I’m exhausted by the time we reach the corner of the hall and find our household gathered, waiting at the edge of the field.

“Go,” I call, panting, and wave them on. This next part of
our escape is the most dangerous. Even at night, we’ll be easy to spot against the open snow.

Bera and Raudi take Harald by his hands and jog on toward the ravine, but Alric comes back to Hake and me.

“Let me help,” he says, and shores up the berserker’s other, wounded side. I try not to show Hake how relieved I am, and the three of us move forward.

“Do me a favor, skald,” Hake says a few steps later. “When you tell a story about this, leave this part out.”

Alric chuckles. “How about I have you carrying Solveig and me out of the burning hall, one under each arm?”

Hake sounds like he wants to laugh, but it comes out more of a groan. “I’d enjoy that tale.”

We move a little faster with Alric helping, but we are still barely halfway across the field when Bera and Raudi reach the far side with Harald. I think Hake and Alric see it, too, because both men furrow their brows in determination.

“This isn’t working,” Hake says. “You should leave me.”

I reaffirm my hold on him. “We already settled this.”

Behind us, the hall squats in silhouette before the roaring fire. The blaze seems to have grown, and dread seeps through me as I realize the flames have reached the larder. Gunnlaug’s men will try to get the prisoners out, if they haven’t already, and then they’ll discover the escape. We must hurry.

But Hake suddenly misses a step, and we stumble to a stop. “Where is your sister?”

I try to pull him forward. “I don’t know.”

“We need to find her,” he says.

“No.” I cannot think about her right now. She made her choice. “They betrayed us, Hake. Asa and Per and Ole. The three of them brought Gunnlaug here.”

Hake frowns.

“We’ll talk about it later. For now, come. Please.”

Hake reluctantly moves, and the three of us resume our awkward gait. We are almost to the woods when I hear a distant cry behind us. I do not need to turn to know that we have been spotted. But we still have some time before Gunnlaug will be able to gather all his men.

We reach the trees, and though we are no longer easily visible, our progress slows. The branches, roots, and snow-laden underbrush hamper us, moving side by side as the three of us are. Muninn has an easier time of it, flapping from tree to tree in his awkward way. I am watching him when Hake trips, and his heavy arm takes me down with him. My face hits the snow, filling my mouth and my nose. I come up sputtering, cold and wet.

“Solveig …” Hake lies on his back, breathing hard.

I grit my teeth. “Don’t you say it.”

Alric helps me up, and together we get Hake back on his feet. Eventually, we break out of the trees and come to the base of the ravine. Bera and Raudi are waiting there with Harald. When they see us, they rush up and surround us. Harald still carries Hake’s war hammer, proudly, though he is sweating.

“They spotted us,” Alric says.

“Then we’d best get moving,” Bera says.

“Here.” Raudi slides between Hake and me, splitting me away. “Let me take him for a spell.”

I do not protest, and a moment later, Muninn is back on my shoulder. But with my exhaustion, he feels heavier than he ever has before.

The narrow path winding up the ravine forces us into a column. Bera leads us, followed by Harald. Next, Alric and Raudi help Hake, and then I bring up the rear. We trace the course through the boulders and pathways that lead up to the glacier and the mountain pass, the same course taken by the spring runoff on its way to the sea. But where there should be a robust stream this time of year, a thin runnel trickles past our feet.

“Where is the water?” Bera asks.

Her question goes unanswered.

The uneven footing makes the going even slower for our berserker, and he grimaces every time his leg slips. I notice a spreading stain of red on his leg bandages. He must be in tremendous pain, but he doesn’t once complain.

As we pick our way upward, I notice it is getting lighter, and the mountains wear the cold crown of dawn. The glacier’s lament swells as we ascend, sounding both pained and alarmed, heralding a doom-rise. Before long we are able to look back out over the field, toward the distant hall and burning buildings, where there is now more smoke than flame.

“There,” Alric says, pointing. “Gunnlaug comes.”

And then I see the black wedge of his forces driving through the snow, almost to the trees below.

None of us says another word. We simply turn and continue on.

But a short while later, as we finally near the top, I begin to question why. What is the point of our flight? We have no hope. Hake looks pale, and his eyes have begun to drift toward listlessness. Alric and Raudi sag under him and need someone else to take a turn, but I feel no more able now than when Raudi relieved me. Even if the mountain pass is open, how can we hope to cross it before Gunnlaug overtakes us?

We are not escaping, I realize. We are simply choosing not to die as prisoners.

I reconsider the cave. Per kept the old abandoned larder a secret from Gunnlaug. Perhaps he kept the existence of the cave from the chieftain as well. Ole might have told Gunnlaug of it, but there may still be a chance we could hide there. And if not hide, then at least make one last stand inside it. This new plan of mine is perhaps only a little less foolish than taking the mountain pass in the first place, but at least it holds some hope.

“When we reach the glacier, climb to the cave,” I say. Everyone simply nods and plods along.

But then we crest the final rise, and the order of the world is overturned.