CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ELVAR

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ELVAR

E lvar sat in the Galdur tower of Snakavik, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. Behind her she heard the rhythmic snoring of Sighvat. He was supposed to be her guard in this chamber, but she knew that there were Berserkir close, and others guarding the door to the chamber, so Elvar had not scolded him when she had heard his snoring begin. She lifted a drinking horn to her lips and drank a mouthful of mead, felt its honeyed heat roll down her throat and warm her belly. Flames flickered in the fire pit before her and she stared into them, lost in her thoughts.

Darl is fallen, Helka dead. Orna resurrected, then slain by Lik-Rifa. This is real. Now, I am at war with a god, and suddenly Vigrie does not feel so large. There is nowhere to hide from a dragon-god. Where will I face Lik-Rifa and her followers? How will I defeat her and get Bjarn back? What should I do? Her thoughts spiralled, stirring emotions like a storm wind swirling leaves. She felt scared, overwhelmed by the myriad decisions she had to make, frozen by the fear of making the wrong choices. So many lives depend on my decisions, not least of all my own. I wish Grend were here to advise me. Where is he?

After Grend had failed to appear for sparring in the weapons court the day after news had arrived of Darl's destruction, Elvar had sent drengrs out to search for him. That had been three days ago, and worry was gnawing at her. Even Gytha did not know where he was.

"It is the waiting that hurts, is it not?" a voice said, startling her and making her jump. She sat straighter in her chair and looked at Hrung, his opaque eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.

"The waiting is harder than the doing, I always found. Now, of course, all I can do is wait." He sighed and blinked. "I remember when I decided to try and kill Snaka, I was happy that I made the decision, but then I had to work out how, and then I had to wait for an opportunity." He shook his head. "It was difficult. Time passes so slowly when you are just … waiting."

"What?" Elvar said. "You tried to kill Snaka?"

"I did not try, my dear, I succeeded ," Hrung said, his huge forehead knotting into a frown. "I killed Snaka."

"You killed Snaka!"

"Why are you repeating everything I am saying?" Hrung said. "Yes, I killed him. How do you think my head came to be between his jaws?"

"Uh, I just thought, he ate a lot of his creations, did he not?"

"Aye, he did," rumbled Hrung. "He ate my mother, my father, my brothers and sisters, my uncles and aunts, my nephews … my wife, my children." He flapped his lips. "He ate my whole clan, everyone I knew. Everyone I loved." His eyes welled and one fat tear spilled onto his cheek, rolled down to his lip.

I forget that Hrung was more than he is now, lived a life, had a family. And Snaka destroyed all of that on a whim. The gods are a curse.

"How did you do it?" Elvar asked him. "How did you kill Snaka?"

"I poisoned myself," Hrung said with a bitter grin. "Filled my body with poison and hurled myself into his mouth. It was the Guefalla, the gods were at war, all of Vigrie trembled with it, and Snaka was angry, in a feeding frenzy, eating every living thing he encountered, so it was not hard to get him to eat me."

Elvar was silent, imagining the chaos and bloodshed. The destruction. "So, how are you … alive?" she asked him.

"I do not know," Hrung said. "I have had a long time to ponder that question. Snaka was a creator as well as a destroyer, remember, he had powerful magic that flowed within him. When his fangs struck me, severed my head from my body, I think something of his power must have leaked into my flesh and blood. Or perhaps it was as he died, his flesh and blood filling the fjord, leaking around me, into me. The Tainted, as you call them, they get their powers through their bloodline, so perhaps it was Snaka's blood. But, really, who knows? All that is for sure is that I am alive. Well," he looked at Elvar mournfully. "Is this really living? I think, I speak, I taste, but …"

Elvar stood and walked over to him, stroked his cheek.

"I for one am glad you still live, ancient Hrung," she said and lifted her mead horn to his lips, emptied it into his mouth.

"Ahh, that tastes good," Hrung said, smacking his lips.

There was a knock at the door.

Behind her Sighvat spluttered and wheezed.

"What, where?" he mumbled, stumbling to his feet.

"Come," Elvar called out and Berak the Berserkir opened the Galdur-tower door and stepped into the room.

"Ulfrir, Skuld and Uspa to see you, my lady," Berak said. He looked back over his shoulder. "There are others with Ulfrir."

"How many?" Elvar asked.

"Two score, perhaps more," Berak said.

"Let them in, and Berak, you come, too."

Uspa stepped into the room, Ulfrir and Skuld behind her, and a line of men and women filed in behind the wolf-god. Some were clothed in mail with well-cared-for weapons at their belts, but most just wore tunics and cloaks, perhaps a seax or axe at their belts. They were all lean, wary and hungry looking, their eyes darting around the room nervously, taking in the shadows.

"You asked me to bring them," Ulfrir said as he came to stand opposite Elvar, the fire flickering between them. "My children."

Elvar stood beside Hrung and stared at the úlfhéenar , heard Sighvat move to stand behind her left shoulder. Berak stood just behind the new arrivals, hulking and glowering in his mail, one hand resting lightly on the shaft of the axe at his belt.

"You are Tainted," Elvar said, and eyes fixed on her. She felt a tension flood the room, a sharpness in the air. "I have two voices in my thought-cage. One says that you are Tainted and should be thralled. That you are dangerous, a risk, and that I cannot trust you unless you have an iron collar about your necks."

Feet shuffled, Elvar seeing hands go to weapons, muscles tensing. Growls came from the shadows around the edges of the tower, hulking figures moving, shadows within shadows as her Berserkir shifted, green eyes reflecting the firelight. She saw Ulfrir and those with him saw them.

"And the other voice in my thought-cage tells me that you are brave to come here," Elvar continued, "where you are at such risk, that you have already fought for Ulfrir on the docks against Ingvild and her Wave-Roamers, and so you have already fought for me."

She looked to Ulfrir, could still see the grief etched in his face from the news of Orna's destruction.

"My question is, who are you loyal to?"

"They are loyal to me ," Ulfrir said.

Elvar looked at the úlfhéenar . All of them met her gaze.

"And you are loyal to me," Elvar said to Ulfrir.

"I am," he nodded.

"For now." Elvar added. "Of course, you have no choice, which sours things a little, but nevertheless, you are loyal, of that I have no doubt. So …" She walked around the fire pit to stand directly in front of Ulfrir and his úlfhéenar . Sighvat hurried to stand with her, and Berak moved closer, frowning. The Berserkir in the shadows stepped out into the light. "I do not wish to put collars around your necks, but I also need to be sure that you will be loyal to me in the coming war, that you will not betray me. How do I do that?"

"We will swear you our oaths," one of the úlfhéenar said, a man, lean and haggard. "If that is what Ulfrir wishes."

"Is that enough, though, to secure your loyalty?" Elvar mused.

"Let them swear their oaths to you, and let Ulfrir command them to serve you," Uspa said. "That will be enough, that will ensure more loyalty than you will get from any of the mercenary bands gathered here for your coin."

Elvar looked at Ulfrir who returned her gaze, then gave her a curt nod.

"Good, then do it now," Elvar said.

"That was well done," Hrung said as Ulfrir's úlfhéenar left the chamber.

"Was it?" Elvar said. "If it works, then I have just doubled the number of my Tainted warriors. But I wonder, can I trust them to keep their oaths?"

"More than you can trust most, I would wager," Hrung said.

"Aye, but that is not as much as I can trust my Berserkir ."

" Your Berserkir ?" Hrung said. "Like a fine-tooled cup, or a sharp seax?"

"Yes, exactly like that," Elvar snapped.

"They are people, too," Hrung said.

"They are my thralls, to do as I bid."

"That is what your father used to say," Hrung said.

Elvar scowled at him.

The door creaked as Ulfrir pulled it shut behind him.

"Ulfrir," Elvar called, and he paused and looked back, Elvar beckoning him back to her. Skuld came with him and Elvar decided not to point out that she had only summoned Ulfrir.

"Yes, Jarl Elvar," Ulfrir said.

"You said that Snakavik is not safe from Lik-Rifa."

"I did," Ulfrir said. "It is not. She would descend upon it and tear this fortress to ribbons." He paused a moment, studying her. Elvar was still not used to the intensity of Ulfrir's gaze, but she met it unflinchingly.

"And I recall you refused to leave Snakavik until we discovered where Lik-Rifa was," Ulfrir said. "We know, now, that she is in Darl, and yet we are still here, in Snakavik."

"Aye," Elvar nodded. "I admit I do not like the thought of sitting here, waiting for her, and what you said, about finding better ground, about making her think we are weak when we are strong, it has merit."

Ulfrir just looked at her.

"But where would be a stronger place to fight her from?" She sucked in a breath, steeled herself and her pride. "Ulfrir, I do not know where to go. Where do you think we should go?"

Ulfrir smiled, the tips of his sharp teeth glowing in the reflected firelight.

"My den," he said. "The Wolfdales."

"Where is that?" Elvar asked.

"Close to the Jarnvidr, the Iron Wood," Skuld said, her wings twitching.

"I know where that is," Sighvat said.

"Everyone knows where that is," Hrung said. "Even a talking head knows where it is."

Elvar knew of the Iron Wood, a great swathe of forest that snared the south of her father's land, her land now, running in a tangle along the southern border marked by the River Sl?gen.

"And why is it better there?" Elvar asked him.

"It is not open to the skies, like here. The Iron Wood gives cover from eyes in the sky, and there is more of my Wolfdales below ground than above it. To defeat Lik-Rifa you do not walk into a fight of strength, of muscle and magic. She would win. To defeat her you need cunning." He tapped a finger against his temple. "You need ground that will conceal you and confuse her."

"I will think on it," she said.

Ulfrir turned to go, then looked back at her.

"My … thanks," he said haltingly, "for your kindness to my children."

"I hope I do not come to regret it," Elvar said.

"You will not," Ulfrir said, looked at her a long moment and then turned and left, Skuld following him in a swirl of red-feathered wings.

Elvar sat with a sigh. As the door closed, she looked up and saw that Uspa remained, Berak with her.

"Yes?" Elvar said.

"You dealt with Ulfrir and his úlfhéenar well," Uspa said.

"Thank you," Elvar said.

"But you must know this is only the beginning. The more this war gathers pace, the more the Tainted will become a bigger issue," Uspa said. "Most will flock to Lik-Rifa because she fights for their freedom. And they are powerful. Imagine how many there are, lurking in the hidden places of Vigrie."

"She makes a good point," Hrung said.

"This has crossed my mind," Elvar said.

Consumed my mind, more like.

"But there is nothing I can do about that. Grend always says worry about what you can change. I cannot change that."

"You could," Uspa said.

"How?" Elvar asked, filling her mead horn from a jug and taking a sip.

"Set your Tainted free and let all of Vigrie know that you have done it."

"What!" spluttered Elvar, spitting out her mead.

"Set them free ," Uspa repeated. "You are not a god. You are not an unknown. You are a jarl of Vigrie. If you do what others would not – the Tainted would trust you over some crazed god. Some would come to you because of Ulfrir, it's true. But many, many would come to your side to fight for Vigrie – if they knew that they would have a place in it afterwards. Perhaps it would even weaken Lik-Rifa's forces, because she has set herself up as the champion of the Tainted. Currently, she is their only option."

"Are you insane?" Elvar said in disbelief. "If I set my Berserkir free they would leave me, perhaps fight for Lik-Rifa, perhaps just walk away from this war. I do not think any would stay to fight for me, the person who has enslaved them."

"I would stay," Berak said.

"That is because I am going to war with Lik-Rifa for your son ," Elvar snarled. "This war is happening because of your son, because of this." She dragged her sleeve up to reveal the white scars of her blood oath, the blóe svarie . "And what of Ulfrir, shall I release him, too?"

"Yes," Uspa said.

Elvar opened her mouth, but only strangled words came out. "You have lost your mind," she eventually spluttered. " If I set him free the first thing he would do would be to rip my throat out. I have tamed him, shamed him, humiliated him. Yes, we share a common enemy, but he would fight Lik-Rifa with or without me. If he were free, he would not need me. I need him, I need the Berserkirs . Set them free and I lose them. We lose them. And then we lose the war, which means we lose Bjarn. Do you want your son back?"

"I do," Uspa said, but she looked to the ground. "But this, it is wrong," she whispered.

"Right, wrong, just words," Elvar said, though she felt uncomfortable even as they left her mouth, because her father had said the exact same words to her. "All that matters is winning. We cannot lose. We must win, and I need Ulfrir and the Berserkir if we are to stand the slightest hope of defeating Lik-Rifa and getting your son back."

"But—"

"No," Elvar snapped, "I will hear no more of this madness. We will prepare to march tomorrow for the Jarnvidr." She poured herself another horn of mead and looked up, saw Uspa leaving.

Elvar slumped down in her chair and drank deeply.

"Ruling, it is not all the skálds lead you to believe, eh," Hrung said.

Elvar did not answer him.

Where is Grend? she thought.