CHAPTER EIGHT GUÐVARR

CHAPTER EIGHT

GUDVARR

I wish I was back in Fellur Village , Guevarr thought again as he followed Jarl Sigrún out of their longhouse, summoned for the second time this day by Lik-Rifa. This time a tennúr had come to give them the dragon-god's summons, and it was whirring in the air before them now, flying forward, then sweeping high and swooping back to them, urging them on, into the courtyard and up the steps, into the ruined feast hall. They stepped up onto the dais where Helka had once sat, walked into a corridor and past Helka's chambers, the stars bright above where the roof had been torn away, and then they were descending steps into a passageway lit with flickering torches that Guevarr remembered none to happily. It had been the secret passage to Skalk's Galdur tower, a place of nightmares that had brought Guevarr much pain. But now Skalk was gone, and Lik-Rifa had settled there.

The tennúr disappeared as the corridor reached a set of steps, and then Sigrún and Guevarr were stepping into the entrance chamber of the tower, torches in sconces flickering around the vast room. Guevarr remembered there had been some Galdur-spell over the entrance, that had frozen him, held him fast until Skalk had uttered the Galdur-spell that released him.

It is easier to gain entrance now.

Guevarr walked into Sigrún's back, as she had abruptly stopped.

"What—" Gue varr said, then he saw why.

Serpents were writhing across the ground. Hundreds of them. Some huge, their bodies thick as tree trunks, heads and jaws broad and powerful. They moved slow and sluggish across the floor, the hiss of scales on stone. Others were small and fast, heads weaving. The whole floor moved with them, as if the ground were formed by the intertwined bodies of serpents. They climbed stone columns like ivy, even the staircase that wound upwards in a circle around the tower. As he looked higher, he saw something glinting. Glittering ropes criss-crossed the shadowed eaves. Then he saw the movement of limbs, saw the reflection of fire light in clustered eyes.

Frost-spiders. He resisted the urge to turn and run. I take it back. This is a far greater protection than some snivelling Galdur-spell , Guevarr thought with a shiver.

The only space clear of the snakes was the centre of the chamber, where Lik-Rifa sat, reclining in a high-backed chair sipping mead from a fine-tooled cup. A table in front of her was filled with food and drink. Ilska and Drekr were there, as was Glunn Iron-Grip. A skraeling, grey-skinned and thick-muscled, also sat at the table. Guevarr thought it was a female, but he was not sure. A handful of guards were spread around the great gates at the far side of the chamber.

" Slepptu Teim ," Lik-Rifa said with a wave of her hand and the serpents hissed and writhed before Sigrún and Guevarr, parting so that a path appeared before them. Sigrún stepped confidently along it and Guevarr followed cautiously.

The tennúr that had led them here whirred and hovered over Lik-Rifa, alighting on her shoulder. The dragon-god smiled and stroked its rat-like head, then reached into a bowl on the table and threw something into the air. The tennúr's wings snapped out and it leaped into the air, snatching whatever it was and popping it into its mouth. Guevarr heard crunching and grinding.

"Sit, eat," Lik-Rifa said as Sigrún and Guevarr reached the table.

As he sat Guevarr looked into the bowl that the tennúr had eaten from, and saw that it was full of teeth, many of them still bloody, slivers of flesh hanging from them. He tried hard to keep the horror from his face.

"You honour us," Sigrún said, and Lik-Rifa smiled. "And fine company you keep," Sigrún added, gesturing to the serpents all around.

"They feel my presence, cannot help but come to me, the sweet things," Lik-Rifa said, almost a purr.

Guevarr remembered the horror he had felt when he had walked into Skalk's chamber, where all manner of vaesen had been imprisoned; faunir, a N?cken, hyrndur, other creatures.

This is far worse. He glanced at the serpents and shuddered, tried to keep the grimace from his face and filled a plate with food, oat-wrapped cod and pickled herring, spit-roasted lambs' hearts stuffed with walnuts and spinach, buttered turnips and soft cheese, then poured himself a cup of ale from a jug and sat back in his chair, looking around the table at his companions.

Jarls, dragon-born, and a god , I am in fine company , he thought. Things seem to have turned out far better than expected. It was not so long ago that my greatest hope was to live another day, and avoid a hyrndur eating its way through my chest. And the odd thing is, I feel at home here, feel like I was born for this. Born for great deeds, for high honour and battle-fame.

The skraeling filled a plate and put its face into it, snuffling and snorting, eating like a hog.

You do not deserve to sit here, among us heroes and great people , Guevarr thought.

"I like it here," Lik-Rifa said, looking around the chamber.

I'd like it more without the moving floor of serpents , or the spiders that would like nothing better than to drain me of my blood , Guevarr thought. But apart from them, this is quite fine. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"I am pleased with the taking of Darl," Lik-Rifa said. "And more than pleased that I have destroyed my sister." Her face twisted in a savage, gleeful snarl. "Let me tell you, that has been a few hundred years coming, and something that I have thought on often during my imprisonment." She smiled, the fresh cuts on her face twisting. A scab opened and leaked a thin trail of blood down one cheek. "And I thank you for your part in that, Sigrún and Guthlaf."

"Guevarr," Guevarr corrected absently.

"What?"

He flushed, as his aunt dug him in the ribs with her elbow, and added quietly, "Apologies, my queen, my name, it is Guevarr, not Guthlaf."

Lik-Rifa scowled, her brows knitting, and there was a ripple through her face, her jaws jutting, a hint of teeth growing, and Guevarr felt a moment of total, all-encompassing terror.

She is going to eat me.

But then her expression shifted back into a thin smile.

"Guevarr, of course . We cannot have the wrong name remembered in the saga that the skálds will sing, can we?"

Guevarr breathed a sigh of relief. Skálds, sagas, my name is going to live on forever. He could not stop a smile spreading across his face.

"Ilska and Drekr have suggested to me that I invite you all here to discuss the way forward," Lik-Rifa said.

"The way forward?" Sigrún said. "Whatever you wish of us, we shall do. We are honoured to serve you, Queen of all Vigrie."

Lik-Rifa dipped her head.

"But what is the way forward?" Guevarr asked.

"Slaying my brother, Ulfrir the wolf," Lik-Rifa said with a smile. "We must find him and kill him."

"There are other things that need to be done, my queen," Ilska said. "Stepping stones towards the goal of finding your brother. Towards your final victory. We should consolidate your power, move against those who would stand against you."

"So you keep saying," Lik-Rifa said and gave a disinterested sigh. "Orna is dead. The upstart Helka is dead," she said, sipping from her cup.

"It was my honour to slay her for you, Lik-Rifa the magnificent," Sigrún said.

Lik-Rifa smiled, a twitch of pleasure touching her lips and eyes.

"And I am told that Helka's eldest son and heir is dead," Lik-Rifa added. She frowned. "What was his name?" she asked Ilska and Drekr.

"Hakon, my queen," Drekr rumbled. "He is dead, I saw his body."

"I … I slew him," Guevarr said.

"Yes," Lik-Rifa said. "You did well … Guevarr," she said, humour in her eyes. "I must confess, I was not sure about you when first we met. You seemed weak, a coward, a tool to be used and discarded."

She smiled at him with a sharp-toothed grin. "But you have done exceedingly well."

"My thanks, my queen," Guevarr said, bowing his head. "I only wish to serve you." As long as there is no pain involved. And, to be brutally honest, only if it serves me.

"But not all of your enemies in Darl died yesterday, my queen," Ilska said. "Helka's daughter Estrid still lives," Ilska said matter-of-factly. "She fled and took with her the remainder of Helka's Ulfhéenar thralls, and some of Darl's drengrs . With Helka and Hakon dead, Estrid will now think of herself as the rightful Queen of Darl and may well seek to rally those who oppose you."

"She is queen of NOTHING," Lik-Rifa roared, dragon-jaws shimmering, and Guevarr fought the urge to stand and run from the room.

"No, my queen, Estrid is no queen. But she can still pose a threat. Can be a thorn in your foot."

"Then she should die," Lik-Rifa said.

"Yes," Ilska said.

"And Jarl Orlyg escaped, with his Tainted thralls and two ships crews of drengrs ," Drekr said. "His longships were seen leaving Darl's docks."

"He will most likely go home, to Svelgarth," Ilska added.

"Where my brother, Rotta, will give him a warm welcome," Lik-Rifa sniffed.

"Skalk the Galdurman fled, too," Guevarr said. "I had him under my sword, but then Orna fell …" he shrugged. The truth was that Yrsa, Skalk's oathsworn drengr , had Guevarr at the point of her blade when Orna fell, but that would not sound anywhere near as heroic in a skáld's saga-song.

"Perhaps Skalk is with Estrid?" Glunn Iron-Grip said. "I saw them in the courtyard together, after Orna fell." Guevarr was pleased to see that Iron-Grip looked almost as uncomfortable as Guevarr felt, his eyes continuously flickering from the serpents slithering close to his feet to the still and unnerving stares of the frost-spiders above them.

"That would be his most likely course of action," Ilska said. "Fleeing rats tend to stick together."

"Well, if you think they are so important, can someone find this Estrid and Skalk and kill them for me?" Lik-Rifa said.

"Yes, my queen, of course," Ilska said. "But first we must find them."

"Then find them," Lik-Rifa said with a wave of her hand.

"We would help you with that," Sigrún said. "My nephew and I."

Would we? Guevarr thought, shifting in his seat.

"It will be hard to track them, many fled Darl, in all directions," Ilska said.

"If Brák were here, he could track them easily, but he is with Rotta," Drekr said.

"Heya," Ilska agreed. "We must use our wits, think like them. At first they would have just fled, and fast. Death was in the air, and they would have wanted to get as far from here as possible, as quickly as they could." Ilska tapped the arm of her chair with long fingers. "But once they felt they had some distance and safety," she shrugged. "Perhaps they would travel south, to Liga, or west, to Snakavik. Helka was on the verge of war with Jarl St?rr at Snakavik, but in the past there was talk of a marriage between Estrid and St?rr's son, Thorun."

Ilska took a bite from a piece of pickled herring on her plate, then drank from her cup. Every movement was sharp and efficient. "It would all depend on whether she will decide to run or fight. If she decides to run then Liga would make more sense, it is a port, and she could leave Vigrie and disappear into Iskidan. But if she decides to fight, well, after Helka Jarl St?rr is the greatest power in Vigrie, so it would make sense for her to unite with him."

"She would dare to fight against me, after she has seen my power?" Lik-Rifa said.

"She would," Guevarr said, remembering Estrid drawing her blade on him yesterday. She had almost bested him. It had been an unpleasant and unexpected shock.

"Good," Drekr said. "Better that they turn and fight now, rather than hide under a rock, where they can grow stronger."

"I need her found," Lik-Rifa said, "and this upstart Galdurman, who thinks he can enslave a god, thrall the Tainted and work powerful magic." She snorted.

"Would you hunt them from the skies, my queen?" Ilska asked.

Lik-Rifa frowned at that.

"Ulfrir is out there, somewhere. I have been tricked by him before, my brother is sly and wolf-cunning, you know." She drummed a finger on her cup. "No, I will rest here a while and recover from my contest with my sister, perhaps wait for Rotta to join me. Before I travel alone I must discover where Ulfrir is hiding." She looked around, scanning the shadows as if he may even now be creeping up on her. "He will be scheming and plotting, not sitting idle, of that I have no doubt."

Guevarr did not like the thought of a giant wolf plotting war against them.

"I would be honoured to hunt Estrid and Skalk for you, my queen," Glunn said.

"No," Drekr said. "Yesterday you fought against us. We will not send you after those who were your allies just one day gone."

"I have sworn Lik-Rifa my oath, I would not betray you," Glunn said, a twist of anger in his lips at the insult.

"Oaths are easy to say, harder to keep," Drekr growled, fixing Glunn with a red-eyed stare that sent a shiver down Guevarr's back. "You will stay close, prove yourself to us here. I am sure there are more of Helka's supporters lurking here in Darl. You shall root them out."

"As you wish," Glunn muttered, eyes flickering to Lik-Rifa. Guevarr thought he looked none too pleased with the prospect of staying close to the dragon.

"Let me hunt these nieings for you, Mother-Maker," the skraeling grunted through a mouthful of food.

"If Ilska thinks you are needed to capture these pathetic humans," Lik-Rifa said.

"I do, my queen," Ilska said. "Krúsa, go with Sigrún and Guevarr. Hunt this Estrid and Skalk together. Sigrún, take your drengrs ."

Me! Us! Guevarr was not sure if he was pleased or upset. Pleased to get away from this nest of vipers, yes, but heading back into danger, most definitely upset. After yesterday he was hoping for some time to recuperate from the stress of betrayal and battle. It was an exhausting business. In truth he'd spent much of the afternoon thinking about paying the whore Vilja a visit, down at The Dead Drengr .

If she wasn't stabbed, eaten, crushed, eviscerated or killed in some other equally unpleasant manner yesterday.

Krúsa grunted and shrugged, as if she did not care if Sigrún and he came or not, then she went back to eating like a hog from a trough.

"My queen," Sigrún said, "it shall be our honour."

"Krúsa, take your clan with you," Ilska said, "and whoever or whatever you think you will need." She gestured to the vaesen around her, tennúr, trolls and frost-spiders. "Any of our queen's children will be happy to go with you."

"Yes, do as Ilska says," Lik-Rifa said.

"Yes, Mother-Maker," the skraeling grunted, hardly pausing from her eating. She lifted her head and grinned at Sigrún and Guevarr, showing a mouthful of fangs and half-chewed food.

Just perfect , Guevarr thought with an internal sigh. We get to take the monsters with us .