CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR ELVAR

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

ELVAR

E lvar dropped her brynja in a heap of rings on the floor and lifted her wool and linen under-tunics, saw a purpling bruise spreading along the length of her waist.

"A good blow from Broeir," Urt the Unwashed said with a whistle. He was her guard from the Battle-Grim today.

"Aye," Elvar grunted. She knew that it would have punched through any ordinary coat of mail.

"I am sorry, Jarl Elvar," Thorguna Storm-Cloud said.

"For what?" Elvar asked.

"Letting that happen," Thorguna growled. "I should have been more vigilant."

"You fought, risked your life for me, defended me," Elvar said. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Thorguna blinked at that.

"What?" Elvar said.

"You … you are not your father," Thorguna said. "He would have punished me."

"I am not my father," Elvar echoed. She lifted her brynja and slithered her way back into it. Buckled on her weapons belt with her seax and long-handled axe suspended from it and threaded her baldric and sword over one arm and shoulder. Grabbed her bearskin cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Come," she said, and strode from her chamber.

After throwing Runa in a locked gaol and sending scouts out to search for Broeir and Silrie, most of the day had been spent searching the wreckage on the river for anything that could be salvaged. One longship and two knarr had survived total destruction, though they all needed work on their hulls before they could sail again. She had noticed Orka and Breca searching long hours, and eventually they had left the riverbank with Orka carrying a barrel across one shoulder.

Now, though, she had work to do. Work that all who followed her must see.

She wound her way down into the main hall and walked towards the dais, where Runa Red-Axe stood, hands and feet bound, Sighvat with one big hand on her shoulder, a loop of wound rope in his other hand. Gytha was there, too, with a handful of Elvar's drengrs and Berserkir around her. It was after dark, the evening meal already finished, and Elvar saw the hall was full, all her captains gathered with their crews, their oathsworn. She strode through them all, seeing Glornir, Jarl Logur, Hjalmar Peacemaker, Jarl Orlyg, and all the others, and made her way onto the dais, walked up to Runa, who looked worse than when she had seen her last. Her lips were pulped and swollen, one eye closed, a cut over one eye. Some of those injuries Gytha had given her, some had come during the long day of being put to the question.

Elvar strode up to Runa and looked at her.

"Why?" Elvar asked her.

"You are weak," Runa said, shrugging and smiling through bloodied lips.

Sighvat pulled his arm back, his fist clenching.

"No," Elvar halted him. "Weak? How?"

"Grend. He still lives. A man who deceived you, betrayed you. A Tainted ." She spat blood on the floor. "And what have you done? You have led us to run and hide, to wait here in a hole for our deaths. How can I respect you, follow you, trust you?"

A long silence, Elvar staring at her.

"Who else is with you?" Elvar asked.

"No one," Runa blinked. "My drengrs are all slain, Broeir and Silrie gone."

I have seen you in secret meetings with Broeir and Silrie , Elvar remembered. But there were others there, too. I saw Estrid Helkasdottir with you. She glanced at the hall, at all those watching her, knew that Estrid was out there, and the others, whoever they were, watching her, judging her. Knew that she had brought this upon herself.

I was a fool, allowing Broeir to live , she thought. My father would have slain him without a moment's hesitation. I should have been more ruthless. I should be more ruthless. But, for better or worse, I am not my father.

She looked back to Runa.

"Hang her," she said.

Sighvat unwound the rope in his hand, Elvar seeing that he had already made a loop and hanging knot at one end. He slipped it over Runa's head down to her neck, pulled it tight, then reached for the rest of the rope, swung it around his head three times and hurled it high. It arced into the air, up, over a branch of the ash tree and then it was falling. Sighvat grabbed it, held it, and looked at Elvar.

"You are an oath-breaker," Elvar said to Runa, "thrice cursed."

"Do it," she said to Sighvat and he heaved on the rope, hauling Runa into the air. She gasped and squawked, Sighvat heaving her until her legs kicked just above Elvar's head. Runa bucked and writhed, gasping, her eyes bulging, veins protruding, her face turning red, then purple. And slowly her kicking lost its strength, became less frantic, gave way to a series of twitches and she slumped, still, the rope creaking as she turned in a slow circle.

Elvar turned to face the hall.

"This is what happens to those who break their oath to me," she said. But today had made her realise the extreme risks of her situation. While Broeir lived the event of her death would be catastrophic. He would command Ulfrir, command her Berserkir . If she died, Vigrie would fall to Lik-Rifa. She remembered all the conversations with Uspa, how she had spoken of releasing the Tainted from thraldom, of freedom for all. How Elvar had thought her insane.

"Ulfrir, step forward."

The wolf-god padded out of the shadows, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Ulfrir Snakasson, if I were to free you, would you swear the blood oath, the blóe svarie ? Would you swear to never use your blood to gain power unjustly over another? That you would protect the Tainted and untainted alike? That you would treat all fairly? That you would enforce justice in all Vigrie? That you would punish the murderer, the thief, the oath-breaker, that you would defend those who are wronged?"

He blinked, just stared at her. Gasps rippled around the hall, the murmur of voices. Elvar ignored them, knew she could not stop, would not stop now. She had taken the first step into the abyss and there was no turning back.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"It is time we trusted one another," she whispered back to him.

"Would you swear it?" she cried out, loud enough for all to hear.

He stood straighter. "I would swear it," he said.

"Uspa," Elvar called out and the Seier-witch stepped forwards.

"Do you mean this?" Uspa asked her.

"I am not my father," Elvar breathed. Uspa reached out and squeezed Elvar's hand, her eyes shining with tears.

"Do it," Elvar said, "and use Ulfrir's chair for the runes."

Uspa drew her seax from her belt and set to digging and chopping at the arm on Ulfrir's seat, carving a series of sharp-angled runes. Two, three, then a fourth.

A silence fell upon the hall, deep and dark as a fjord.

"Líf, giver of life," Uspa said, pointing to the first rune carved into the chair. She drew her seax across the heel of her hand and let her blood drip into the rune, filling it.

Elvar sensed a change in the air, a tingling skittering across her skin, oppressive as a storm.

"Dauea, bringer of death," Uspa said, letting her blood fill the second rune.

All in the hall were silent, shocked, stunned, staring.

" Blóe svarie , the blood oath that binds unto death," Uspa called out as she moved to the third rune, holding her palm so that her blood dripped into it, and then she moved to the next.

"Kv?l, torment to the oath-breaker," she called out as her blood filled the last rune carved into the chair. She looked at Ulfrir and held the seax out to him. "Join your blood to mine," she said.

Ulfrir took the seax and dragged his wool sleeve up, drew the blade across the palm of his hand and held it over the runes, his blood dripping, falling into each rune-carving, mingling with Uspa's.

"You know the words," Uspa said to him. "Say them."

Ulfrir looked at her, looked at his blood dripping into the runes, then looked at Elvar. He held her gaze as he said the words.

" Blóeeie eg gj?ri, binda mig oreum mínum mee valdsrúnum, dyr til gamla hátta, " he cried out.

"Blood oath I make, binding me to my words with runes of power, door to the old ways," Uspa called out for all in the hall to hear.

" ég sver ae nota aldrei blóeie mitt til ae ná v?ldum á óréttlátan hátt yfir ?erum. ég sver ae ég mun vernda hina mengueu og ómengueu jafnt. ég mun meeh?ndla alla sanngjarnt. ég mun framfylgja réttl?tinu í ?llu Vigrinu. ég mun refsa moreingjanum og eiesbrjótanum og tjófnum, ég mun verja tá sem beitt er órétti, " he called, his voice filling the hall, his eyes fixed upon Elvar.

"I swear never to use my blood to gain power unjustly over another," Uspa cried, translating Ulfrir's Seier-words for all to hear, for all to know the oath he was taking. "I swear that I will protect the Tainted and untainted alike. I will treat all fairly. I will enforce justice in all Vigrie. I will punish the murderer and the oath-breaker and the thief, I will defend those who are wronged."

Ulfrir clenched his fist, more blood dripping.

" ég innsigla tetta mee blóei mínu, lífi mínu, megi dauei og kvalir taka mig ef ég bryti tae, " he cried.

"I seal this with my blood, my life, may death and torment take me if I break it," Uspa translated.

A silence fell over the hall. The stone doors slammed open, the walls shaking, a chill, ice-touched wind sweeping into the room, shaking the branches of the tree, swirling around them, and the blood in the runes began to hiss and sizzle. It rose into the air, looking like red strips of tendon, keeping the shape of the sharp-angled runes. With a crackle the blood-runes merged, fusing into one long strand, spiralling upwards towards Ulfrir's outstretched arm. It wrapped around his hand, his wrist, his forearm, drawing tight with a sizzle and hiss, the stench of burning flesh, and Ulfrir grunted. Then the red line was fading, evaporating, leaving a raw, spiralling scar around Ulfrir's hand and forearm.

" Svo sé, " Ulfrir snarled.

"So be it," cried Uspa and the wind was gone, all in the hall staring.

Elvar reached into her cloak and took out a large iron key, placed it into the lock in Ulfrir's collar, and turned it. A click, and the collar opened, Elvar taking it from his neck and holding it high.

She looked into Ulfrir's eyes.

"I SEE YOU," she cried out, saying the ancient words for when a thrall was given their freedom. Then, more quietly, "You are free."

Ulfrir looked at the collar, and a slow smile spread across his lips.

"Skuld," Elvar called, and she stepped forwards, shock in her eyes, and something else. Elvar took out the key to Skuld's collar and unlocked it, took the collar from her neck.

"I see you," she said to Skuld.

"What, no blood oath for me?" Skuld said.

"There is no need," Elvar said. "Abuse your power and your father will deal with you." She smiled as she saw the fullness of Ulfrir's oath register in Skuld's eyes.

"That is some deep-cunning," Skuld muttered, but she smiled in return. "Thank you," she said, dipping her head.

Elvar sucked in a deep breath.

See this through.

"Berak, Thorguna, all my Berserkir ," Elvar called, and they came to her, muscled and mail-clad, brooding and iron-collared, they all stood before her. "Uspa, their keys", and Uspa came forward, producing an iron ring with many keys upon it. One by one Elvar unlocked their collars and took them from their necks, looked into each one's eyes as she did it and repeated the ancient words.

"I see you."

"I see you."

"I see you," until they all stood before her, free.

"You are free," Elvar said to them. "Free to stay, free to go. I would ask you to stay and fight at my side, fight against the rat and the dragon, fight to keep our land free from a new tyrant. Fight to rescue Berak's son from their grasp. But I only ask, I do not command. And if you wish it, you may swear your oaths to me, become my drengrs , and I will provide for you as any good jarl does for their oathsworn. I will be your gold-giver, give you hearth and home in return for your service." Then she turned to face the crowd gathered before her.

"There are jarls out there with Tainted in their warbands. If you wish to remain here, wish to fight alongside me against Lik-Rifa, then you must set your Tainted free. If not, you are free to leave, I will not hinder you. But leave you must."

She stood there and waited, knew that this was the knife-edge, when the world could turn on her.

A long, drawn-out silence, and then there was movement in the hall, a figure pushing through the crowds, others behind him.

Jarl Orlyg stepped up onto the dais, a score of warriors behind him, all with collars about their necks. He frowned as he approached Elvar.

"You are either insane, or the deepest-cunning thinker I have ever known," he said. "For my sake I hope it is the latter, but, either way, Little-Elvar, I stand with you." He turned to his Tainted thralls and unhooked a ring of keys from his belt.

"I see you," he said as he took the first collar from a warrior. Then he went to the next, and the next, repeating the ritual.

"I make you the same offer as Elvar made to her thralls … I mean, freedmen," he said. "I would welcome your oaths. I know your bravery, your weapons craft, and the dead gods know I would be happy to have you as my drengrs . Though Elvar will have to help me win some more silver so that I can pay for you all."

"I'll drink to that," one of the released Tainted said with a laugh.

Other jarls and mercenary chiefs came to the dais, all going through the same ritual, setting their Tainted thralls free. Elvar stood and watched, feeling detached from it all now, elated and exhausted. She had known this was coming, had feared it, feared the relinquishing of her power over her Tainted, feared how her jarls and chiefs would react, feared what could happen.

All came to stand before her, even Estrid stepping onto the dais and releasing her úlfhéenar , which was unexpected. And at the very end she saw a group of people pushing through the crowd like the prow of a drakkar through ice-crusted sea. Glornir and the Bloodsworn. Glornir stepped onto the dais, with his two Seier-witches and the thick-muscled black man at his shoulders. Strangely, all the Bloodsworn followed behind them, including all those wearing the druzhina kit of Iskidan.

Glornir walked to Elvar.

"A bold decision," he said. Then he turned to Vol and nodded.

She took a key from her cloak and unlocked the collar around her neck, took it off and dropped it on the dais. Iva and Taras did the same, and Elvar frowned.

"They were not thralled to you?"

"Never," said Glornir.

"Why?"

Glornir waved a hand to take in the Bloodsworn and looking at them Elvar saw the flicker of eyes changing colours, of teeth growing, claws extending. Even the lad Breca.

"You are all Tainted," she breathed.

"Aye," Glornir said. He stood straight and drew in a deep breath looking back at his people. "You taste that," he said to the Bloodsworn, "that is the taste of freedom."

Elvar shook her head. "The mighty Bloodsworn, Tainted," she said.

"Elvar Fire-Fist, you have done a remarkable thing," Glornir said, "and you will have our loyalty for as long as we draw breath", and then he led the Bloodsworn from the dais.

Elvar called for barrels of ale and mead to be opened, and, once the celebrations began, she left the dais and slipped through the crowd, made her way into one of the tunnels that led from the great hall. She heard the soft-scrape of feet behind her and turned quickly, hand reaching for her sword, but it was Thorguna and Berak, Sighvat and Urt with them.

"What are you doing?" Elvar said.

"We are your guards, we are guarding you," Berak rumbled.

Elvar paused, looked at them.

"We give you our oaths, freely," Thorguna said, and she had tears in her eyes.

Elvar smiled and nodded, then turned and walked on. They passed through corridors until Elvar reached a door with torch-glow leaking from it. Unbolted a lock and opened the door, stepped inside and closed it behind her. She turned to face Grend, who was sitting on his cot. His wounds were mostly healed now, though he looked older, the lines in his face deeper, and there was more grey in his dark hair.

"I have set Ulfrir free, set Skuld free, set all the Tainted free," Elvar said as she took the last key from her iron ring and stepped close to Grend. She placed the key in the lock and turned it, a click and it opened, and she took it from his neck. "And I set you free, too," she said, and he looked up at her with questioning eyes. She took his hands and pulled him to his feet.

"There were many wise reasons to do it," she said, "deep-cunning reasons, you may say, some practical, some ethical, but the truth of it is", she leaned forward and put her hands around him, hugged him tight. "I did it for you," she breathed.