Chapter 27 | Arne

Chapter 27

Arne

"YOU . . . WHAT?" I studied the fair woman in front of me, the morning sunlight glinting off her face and silver hair, making her radiant.

It was Friday, the rest of the first week of class going by unremarkably. Ravinica, at least, hadn't gained any new scars or battle wounds, so that was a win.

It was a shame I hadn't gotten to spend as much time with Ravinica as I would have liked since the Gray Wraith . Now she asked this favor of me—one she didn't understand.

"I did not stutter, Arne. I want to go with you, wherever you're going."

Ravinica picked up right where we left off after her bout with Astrid. She stared at me, her yellow eyes gleaming. Plenty of others had taken her attention—Grim Kollbjorn, Magnus Feldraug, Sven Torfen among them.

I had been tasked with the annoying duty of fieldwork on my first week back at Vikingrune Academy from the summer months. I wasn't spending much time on academy grounds.

I couldn't complain. In fact, I had put in the request for fieldwork before leaving for summer. The trips I took into Isleton suited my purposes.

Still, it was annoying. Having to go in and out of the western gates and tell the Huscarls the goings-on every day was frustrating.

Ravinica had found me in the western cafeteria, near Gharvold Hall where cadets and soldiers typically ate. It was a quick shot from here to the western gate, down the mountainside, and into Isleton.

I put my elbows on the table, pushing my soup tray aside. "You don't know what you're asking, little fox."

"I don't ca—"

"No, literally, you have no idea where I'm going, what I'm doing." I narrowed my eyes on her, a smug smirk curling my lip. "Do you simply want to spend more time with me? If so, you need but ask."

My eyes roved over her curvy body. She didn't back down. I was only half-jesting, and she knew it.

"It's your fault for opening your big mouth in front of me with Magnus," she said.

I raised a finger in defiance. "Magnus opened his big mouth. It wasn't me this time. He's more desperate than I am."

"For what?"

I shook my head. My golden hair tumbled across my shoulders. I wore it down today, opting to take my mane out of its braids. "Magnus' intentions and motivations are his to tell, not mine."

She leaned forward, studying me with her piercing gaze. "How do you know Magnus, if he's an initiate and arrived at the academy the same time I did? You two seem chummy."

I scoffed and dipped a hunk of bread into my soup off to the side. "Chummy? Lass, that man is an impossible mystery to crack. Even more than Grim Kollbjorn. The bear shifter is quiet, yet he wears his emotions on his sleeve. Magnus Feldraug? I don't know if he has emotions. The man's a damn sociopath."

"So you're not his friend?"

I smiled. "Oh, I didn't say that."

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated by my flip-flopping. "You're stalling. Tell me where you're going tonight. Please."

The girl was grasping at straws. I wasn't sure what she was looking for, though I could sense the urgency in her sun-flecked eyes. Despite her strong willpower and unbending resolve, I wasn't sure if she could hack it with the people I was meeting. Ravinica had a certain naivety about her.

With a sigh, I thought, I suppose there's only one way to find out, eh? Plus, if I helped her, she would owe me one. The gods knew I would be calling that favor in at some point. The little fox was too much of a focal point at Vikingrune Academy for her not to be useful later on. I could sense it.

I eyed her seriously. She was utterly gorgeous in my eyes. She was a woman who bucked tradition, just like I was a man who did the same. Ravinica reminded me of a shield-maiden of legend—a follower of the Old Way and icons of our people. Perhaps a valkyrie, even, serving Odin's will to escort fallen soldiers to Valhalla atop a winged steed.

Maybe, with a bit more training, she could fulfill those roles.

"I'm going to Isleton," I said in a low voice.

That, by itself, was not a shocking secret. "Okay," she said hesitantly. "I've been meaning to shop around with Dagny for some new clothes. She said Isleton is the place to go."

"I'm not going to Isleton to shop, little fox."

A small smile played close to her lips. "I expected not, iceshaper."

I winced. "Why don't I like it when you call me that?"

She grimaced, as if thinking she had angered me. "Erm, apologies. I didn't know it was a slur."

"It's not, on its face. But my enemies typically call me ‘iceshaper' when they want to dehumanize me."

Ravinica tilted her head. We were caught in a battle of glares. "You're an odd man, and a riddle, Arne Gornhodr. You seem more self-aware and in touch with your emotions than most men. Yet you offer more questions than answers. Why do you have enemies, as a student of Vikingrune Academy?"

I put a hand out to stop her incessant questions. "And you have a tendency to get off track. I'll let you come with me to Isleton. I'm intrigued to see if you can handle yourself."

She perked up in her seat, shoulders rising. It was a beautiful sight, and I had to admit feeling a rush of excitement when I made her happy.

"Really?" She sounded surprised, like she didn't trust me at my word.

We'll have to change that. "Yes. Now that I think of it, there are people you might benefit from meeting there."

"Excellent. When do we go?"

"Tonight. Meet me here after your classes let out."

She nodded diligently. It was a good look on her—submissiveness. It didn't seem her natural state, being the stubborn warrioress that she was. Astrid Dahlmyrr can attest to that, I'm sure.

A spark showed on her face. She asked, "Do they sell maps in Isleton?"

I was caught off guard. "Maps of what?"

She gave me a shrug. "Maps the academy might not have."

I puckered my lip, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Ah. So there's more than meets the eye to you, as well. Are you up to some subterfuge of your own? I love to see it.

I didn't want to get her hopes up, so I stood from the bench without answering her question. I leaned over and put my palms down on the tabletop, speaking with my lips a few inches from hers. "You'll owe me for this, you know."

The pale column of her throat tensed, swallowing. "I expect nothing less, Arne. What will you want?" Her eyes searched my face for an answer I wasn't willing to reveal.

Maybe I was a riddle, after all. Better than being a sociopath like Magnus, a mope like Grim, or a wretch like Sven.

Curling my lips into a smile, I said, "I'll think of something, I'm sure." I searched every inch of her beautiful face, landing on her eyes.

She blinked, gulping and nodding again.

I stepped aside from the table after smelling her fresh scent of lavender with a quick inhale. Five feet away, aware she was watching me, I looked over my shoulder. "Oh, and little fox? Bring your spear."

Ravinica met me at the side of the western mess hall just after sundown. Her spear was strapped to her back, a stern expression on her face when she approached.

I looked at her head to heel, noting the ragged tunic and pants she wore, straining against the muscles and thickness of her thighs and arms. Maybe we'll have to go shopping after all. If I know anything about women, I know they can't live with only one outfit. It's blasphemous.

I nodded as she approached, and without a word we set off toward the western gate, leaving Tyr Meadow and Gharvold Hall behind us. Ravinica kept close, as if thinking I'd vanish if she took her eyes off me.

At the gate, two armed guards—Huscarls—stood from their positions off to the sides. Up in the towers, two other guards watched us, bows strapped across their backs.

"Name and business outside the academy?" one of the guards asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Gods above, Grant, I was just here earlier today."

The man frowned. He was in his early thirties—a former student himself who decided to stay on as a protector of the school. "You know the protocol, Arne," he said. "I'm not trying to get my ass fired."

I took Ravinica's hand in mine, surprising her, and pulled her up alongside me. Gesturing with my other hand at her, I said, "What's wrong with this picture?"

Grant furrowed his brow, readjusted his helmet. "Uhh . . ."

"She looks like a beggar in an alley at Garimar Way." I glanced at her. "No offense."

She scowled.

To Grant, I said, "My friend needs new clothes. I'm taking her shopping."

Grant nodded, stepping aside. "I didn't want to say nothing about the garb . . ."

I stormed past him before he could finish, pulling Ravinica along behind me. We streamed past the guards at the gate, and abruptly found ourselves on the lip of the western plateau.

From up high, staring down, we could see columns of smoke rising from the dimly lit orange glow of Iselton down below. It was mostly clouded by tree cover. Beyond the small village, the Isle was shaded in murky black, hardly any light to illuminate the land at night. The Delaveer Forest crowded the horizon before leveling lower into the Niflbog in the distance.

"Really, Arne? A beggar?" she chided me.

I smirked. "I wanted to get past without too many questions asked, little fox. I'm sure you'll forgive me." We started walking toward a trail that led down the mountainside, cut between high walls that created a crevice. "It's less than an hour down the mountain. Let's move before we lose moonlight."

Unlike the southern trail we'd taken from the Gray Wraith to get to the plateau of the mountain, the western path didn't wind or fold in on itself—it was a relatively straight, though gravelly, march down.

At one point, we heard a roar of water to our right. I pointed out the Western Falls. It stemmed from a small lake and rivers fed from Academy Hill, draining down the mountainside in a tumble.

"It's beautiful," Ravinica said to me.

I had too much on my mind to care about the waterfall. First, I had to manage Ravinica like she was a pup. In Isleton, she practically would be. Should I be giving her instructions on how to act down there?

I shrugged the thought aside. No. She'll learn, or she won't. It'll be a good test for how she manages herself without prompting.

As I'd promised, it took less than an hour to reach the base of the mountain. Isleton was nestled in a nook just outside the mountain's shadow. We marched through the thinner trees of the Helgas Wood to get to town.

Before arriving, or being able to see it through the trees, I could smell the town. Scents of perfumed goods, spices, and cooking fires filled the night.

I inhaled contentedly. "Smells like old Trond's cooking up lamb tonight."

Ravinica fiddled with her wrists in front of her, nervously. She didn't ask who Trond was—it seemed her questions had fallen silent from her anxiety.

Isleton was a town without walls or borders. It was a smattering of longhouses, lodges, and dwellings amid the Helgas Wood. Further west of it, the wood turned into the Delaveer Forest, where the trees rose up and gobbled up the moon at certain times of night.

This early in the evening, the town was bustling. A cool breeze perpetually swept through the lowland village, tunneled on either side by mountain and forest.

People walked the streets, loudly talking among themselves, laughing, going from lodge to longhouse. A man heaved a wheelbarrow down the main road in front of us, momentarily causing us to stop.

Ravinica had her head on a swivel, checking out all the sights and sounds. She still looked nervous.

As the man with the wheelbarrow passed us, I said, "Relax, little fox."

"It's busy here."

"Aye. Isleton is a place to unwind, for students to blow off some steam. I suggest you do the same. I'm sure you recognize some of your classmates."

With a nod, she said, "It reminds me a bit of Selby Village at night."

I took her hand. Squeezing her palm in mine, I smiled. She seemed to relax at my touch. "Come on, then, I'll show you around. We have a little bit of time before meeting with my people."

Quietly, she followed me, hardly able to take her eyes off everyone around. We passed dozens of people. I recognized faces: academy students who patronized the bars and shops, and the locals who made their coin servicing said students.

As we walked, I pointed off to the left with my chin. "That's Trond's Pub. Most popular in town." A couple people huddled outside the longhouse, one of the men puking. "Amateur," I said with a scoff. "It's not even eight o'clock yet."

Ravinica let out a small laugh.

I smiled at her again, pleased to hear her loosening up and chuckling. I pounded my foot on the road and said, "This is Garimar Way. The main boulevard, if you will." Further down the road, I pointed with my free hand. "Down there is Liv's Libations. Competitor to Trond's. They used to be married. Didn't end well."

Ravinica winced. "Yikes."

I laughed. "Right?" We turned a corner in the road and came to another wide longhouse. "This is Dagmar's. Clothier and fashion expert."

"How exciting," she said dryly.

We walked in, and I helped the little fox pick out some garb. Dagmar, a dour old hen sitting behind the counter, said, "Got some new stuff from Tanner Leif, fancy man."

I smiled at her. "Excellent. We'll take a look."

A few minutes later, after sifting through the stacks of new clothing arrivals, I handed a few articles off to Ravinica.

She stood there blankly, hauling the bundle, peering around the pile I'd made in her arms. "You're really going to . . . dress me?"

I gave her a look, then gestured at my blue tunic, my tailored leggings, my curled cuffs. "Who do you think is more fashionably sound between us, little fox?"

She rolled her eyes. I caught a hint of a smile on her face. And was that her blushing? "Fair point, fancy man. "

She walked off with the pile of clothes once I was done. A few minutes later she came out dressed in form-fitted leathers that hugged her curves. Dark, good quality. She looked fierce and imposing, and it made me clap my hands. "Fantastic. You look positively menacing."

She looked down at herself. "Is that really the vibe I should be going for?"

"Of course it is. Scare the shit out of your peers and they might stop harassing you. Hells, I'd be carrying that spear with you every class you go to. You never know when you might need it."

She inclined her chin, as if considering it.

Before leaving, I picked up two more shirts and pants for her, as well as a white-gray fur coat. Holding out the coat in front of me, I said, "Hmm, yes. This too." I had stopped asking for Ravinica's opinion.

On the way to bringing the haul over to Dagmar, Ravinica leaned in and whispered, "I don't have any way to pay for all this."

"Leave it to me," I said.

Dagmar wrinkled her face at me. "On the tab? It's due in a week, you know."

I saluted her, hand to my forehead. "Of course, dear Dagmar. You never let me forget."

We were out of there after that, and I looked up at the moon to see what time it was. Time for the meeting.

Ravinica lengthened her stride to keep up with my hurried pace. She held a bag with all the extra clothes over her shoulder, deciding to keep the leather hide on her body. I knew she'd like it.

While we walked past a small crowd on Garimar Way, she gave me a demure smile. "Thank you, Arne. For . . . this." She gestured at the bag. "For helping me."

"Of course. It's only more favors you'll owe me, little fox."

She sighed when I winked at her. "I take it you think highly of favors. The fact you have a running tab at Dagmar's makes me believe you're more important here than you're letting on."

"No, not important," I said, shaking my head. "Just a regular. You are right about favors, though. I curry them. Hand them out." I swept my arms out wide, to the town before us. "Favors are my currency."

We passed Trond's Pub, and I earned a few scowls from people smoking outside. They may or may not have been gentlemen I'd gotten into a scuffle with a few days prior. It was hard to say with little moonlight and them hiding under the awning of the longhouse.

Further down the road, we came to the less-inhabited competitor, Liv's Libations. I pointed out other places, saying, "If you're looking for a specific map, Matilda's Lost Supplies might have it. There's no cartographer in town, per se, but Matty has tons of random knickknacks and curiosities that might pique your interest."

"I look forward to exploring the shops when we aren't on a time crunch."

I grunted and pushed into Liv's. My eyes scanned the large room—twelve booths hemming every inch of the walls, some circular hightop tables in the middle of the tavern-eatery, and the bar itself stretching across the back wall.

Three pairs of eyes turned when I stood in the doorframe like a cowboy bursting into the town brothel.

The man I was looking for was the only one not to glance over. He sat in a booth at the corner, by himself. He didn't wear a hood or anything suspicious. His mediocre face stared down at a mug of mead he nursed.

I beelined for him, bringing Ravinica with me, holding her hand the entire time because I felt it grounded her and kept her anxiety away when our skin touched. Plus, I just enjoyed touching her.

She put up no complaint.

At the side of the booth, I cleared my throat.

The man glanced over, staring up at us. "Ah. There you are." His eyes moved over to Ravinica, a measure of surprise darkening his expression before he pursed his lips and returned his gaze to me. "Who's the newbie, Arne? This is unexpected. You know we don't like surprises."

I sat down across from him, scooting over with Ravinica moving in beside me. "Nonsense," I said. "If you didn't like surprises, we wouldn't be here at all. Dieter, this is Ravinica. Little fox, Dieter."

They nodded to each other.

Ravinica leaned over and whispered, "I thought Magnus would be here."

A tinge of jealousy swept through me. I stuffed it down and folded my hands on the table as I awaited a barmaid to head over.

"New student?" Dieter asked.

Ravinica nodded. "Initiate."

"Hm."

"And who are you, sir? Arne hasn't told me much."

Dieter opened his mouth, kept it open, and then thought better of it and closed it.

"It's fine," I said, twirling my wrist to keep him going. "She's safe. I vouch for her."

"You've checked her out, Arne? Done your due diligence?"

I sighed and leaned back in the comfortable leather-bound booth. "I have," I said, folding my arms over my chest.

Dieter pursed his lips and sucked his teeth. He seemed to be missing more hair than last I'd seen him, a widow's peak forming at the top of his forehead.

He leaned forward conspiratorially. To Ravinica, he said in a low voice, "I'm pleased to meet you, lass. I am a member of the Lepers Who Leapt."