CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENShe, who had no name here in this land but “slave,” stood by her body and wondered what would happen next.Maybe she shouldn’t have fought so. But after six moons of these people, she’d grown tired of . . . everything. So she’d fought. As had the other five. Fellow women with no names who were also only called Slave. They’d fought, too, and they’d also died. Two wept over their bodies and the other three had wandered away, unable to look at what remained.How good her life had been before the Northmen had come with their long boats and their steel. They’d ripped apart her village in seconds. At least it had felt that way. Even as the village men fought back, the warriors trying their best, the Northmen had simply decimated them . . . then they’d turned their attention to the women and children.She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t think about that again. She couldn’t. Life was hard enough without remembering that.Well . . . her life had been hard enough. Now that life no longer existed. But where were her ancestors? Why weren’t they here to lead her to her place of glory at their side? Or had being a slave ruined that for her?She looked at the other five. They’d suffered along with her but they hadn’t been from her village. She didn’t know where they were from, but she could guess how they got here. Just as she had. Thrown over the shoulders of Northmen like so much chattel.Unable to stare at her body a moment longer, she looked out over the field where the battle had taken place. So much death, but these people lived for death. All the men wanted to die with honor in battle so they could meet their precious gods and feast at their table. Would her short life have been different if she’d been born a man? Probably. But if she’d been born in the same village that would have meant she’d only have died sooner.Moving among the dead she could see the ones the old women of the village called the Valkyries. They would choose which of the dead would go with them to their special gods’ hall. They were so tall, with long blond hair and bright shiny armor. Their helmets had wings on them but it was their horses that could fly. They waited for the Valkyries at the end of the battlefield, eating grass and nuzzling each other, their wings occasionally fluttering from time to time.A veiled woman walked onto the field of death from the woods nearby. She was tall like the Valkyries but there was nothing to tell about her except her eyes. They were so dark and cold. Very cold.One of the Valkyries left the dead to go to the woman’s side and despite the distance between them, all could be heard between the two.“Why are you here, Skuld?” the Valkyrie demanded. “You did not ride with us this day.”“I know. The human who caused this battle,” she sneered, “still has my property. I want it back. The only reason he won this battle and the others these last three moons is because he holds what is mine. His advantage is unfair.”“Whatever you lost is your problem. You cannot deal directly with the living on these kinds of issues. You know that. Father will have a—”“Your father is not my problem.”“He is father to us all.” The Valkyrie caught the Skuld woman’s arm and stopped her forward momentum. “I know you like balance, but that is not always possible. Power is always there to be claimed. Someone will take what is yours from the Jarl and defeat him.”“And then become a monster themselves? I do not like that . . .”“Unless Odin changes the rules he has set—which we both know he will never do—there is nothing you can do about it.”The Skuld woman said nothing for a very long moment, her cold black eyes moving over the field of death as if she searched for some answer that never came.As she wondered what would happen next between the Valkyrie and the Skuld woman, a crow landed on the back of her body’s head. Horrified, she who was once called Slave, dropped to her knees and tried to shoo the animal away. But her hand went through the bird. She was no longer living. She was nothing but air. Worthless air.The crow, however, could see her. Not just her body but her spirit. It was looking right at her. Those in her village considered crows the harbingers of death and despair. Perhaps, but this one was just here to feast on the bodies of the dead. Looking for an opportunity like every other creature in the world.She couldn’t allow that.The crow squawked at her, telling her to go. Telling her to leave this body to its hunger.Frustrated, she screamed back, her rage and disgust at her helplessness coming to the fore.How many more indignities would she have to endure?Her scream echoed out and the crow backed up a bit. Even more interesting, the enemy men looked up from their raiding of the corpses, looked around, trying to find out where that scream came from.That’s when the Skuld woman walked over to her. She studied her for a moment, black eyes blinking down at her. Kind of the way the crow blinked and studied her.“What is your name?” Skuld asked.“I no longer have a name for I am Slave.”Skuld crouched beside her, pushing black hair from her face with pale white hands. Unlike her own slave hands, which were brown like her people’s. Just as all of her was brown, making escape and hiding impossible in this cold, white land. Although she always dreamed of escape. She always dreamed at night when she was lucky enough to be alone.“Would you like revenge, She of No Name?”“Revenge? Against what? The ones who did this to me, sold me? Then I was sold again. Then I was lost in a game of chance. For true revenge, I’d have to kill everyone. Absolutely everyone.”“Perhaps, then, revenge is the wrong offer. What about power? A chance to live the life you deserve.”“You can give me back to my people? You can restore what I had?”“No. But I can give you a new life. And I can give you power. The power to fight. The power to rule your own fate. If you’re brave enough.”“Skuld,” the Valkyrie demanded, “what in the name of Odin are you doing?”“Getting back what’s mine. Your father has you. Ran has her—”“Daughters. We fight for our father. Ran’s daughters fight for their mother.”“Already you grow bored with your tasks. Soon, Odin and Ran will be forced to choose from humans, too. I see it. You know I do. I’m the one you cannot lie to.” Skuld stroked her hair. “So this one will be mine.”“She is not of our people. She does not have our blood running through her veins.”“I know. That’s what I like about her. Give me your loyalty, child,” Skuld said to her, “and I will give you a second life on this plane. One in which you control your destiny.”“What will I have to do?”“Take back what’s mine.” Skuld looked at the warriors pillaging the dead. “Starting here.” She pointed at a tall man, watching his warriors as they stole and cut and finished off. “Starting with him.”“Will I be immortal?”“Skuld!”Skuld sighed at the Valkyrie before replying, “No. You will not be immortal. That I cannot give you. But . . . I can give you a second chance at life. At having children. At growing old. And power. I can give you power.”“Enough power to fight all these men? They’ll try to stop me.”“I would not make you live this life alone. I have two sisters. They irritate me, but they are mine. When I need help, they are always there. You shall have sisters as well. And strength. And skills.”“Have you lost your mind?” the Valkyrie demanded. “My father—”“Does not rule me. No one rules the Norns. We keep the balance and I have decided that this will keep the balance.” Skuld focused on She Who Had No Name. “Promise your loyalty to me, child. Swear it.”Was this just another form of slavery? Perhaps. But it had to be better than what her life had become before her death. She might die again, but she’d already died once. So what was one more time?“I swear it.”Lifting her veil, Skuld leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. By the time she pulled away, the veil was back in place and She of No Name still had no idea what Skuld truly looked like.Skuld stood and moved to the other girls. The other slaves who had lived this hell with her. She spoke to them for a bit and then they, too, swore their loyalty. In the end, there were five of them. None of them from the same place. None of them friends or tied by blood. But now sisters under Skuld’s banner.She felt strange, her ethereal form suddenly shivering, then moving. She blinked and that’s when she realized she was in her body again. She lifted her head and the crow jumped off her back.She pulled herself from the mud and grime and blood and stared down at her hands. She flexed her fingers, moved her shoulders. Life coursed through her. She felt strong. Not just from being alive again, but as if she’d had full meals these last few months. As if she hadn’t been beaten, tormented, abused. As if she hadn’t been violated.That pain was gone, replaced by strength. But her thirst for vengeance still roared through her and, for the first time since her entire village had been wiped out, she held her head high.“Look at this,” a male voice said. “Thought you said this one was dead.”“She was. Trust me . . . I checked.”“You were wrong.” He grabbed hold of her hand. “Let’s put her with the others and sell her off to—”She snatched her hand back and the man snarled at her. “Bitch,” he growled before backhanding her across the face.But this time she didn’t fall to her knees. She didn’t whimper and cower and cry because the pain was so unbearable. Instead, she stood tall—and backhanded him in return.He stumbled to the side, shocked that a woman—any woman, much less a slave—could harm him.“You little—”One of the others who’d died but was now back, caught the man from behind. She gritted her teeth as she held him, her expression one of grim determination and, in her eyes, hopeful glee.Understanding what was needed, She of No Name yanked the sword from the sheath at the man’s side. But it was long. It would impale him and the one who held him. So a shorter blade was retrieved from the man’s belt. This blade he’d stolen from the one who’d once ruled these lands but now lay dead in the mud and muck not far from where they stood.Yes. This would do.She wasted no time burying that shorter blade in his side and then slowly dragging it across his belly.The man screamed as she’d screamed during her own death, but she felt no pity. She felt pity for no one any longer.Another man ran toward her, his sword raised, ready to cut her down where she stood.Yanking the blade from the first man’s gut, she turned toward her new attacker. He swung the blade, trying to cleave her from shoulder to waist, but it was easy to avoid the weapon. She quickly realized she’d never been able to move so fast. At first, the man looked stunned. Then angry. They didn’t like it when those they considered slaves didn’t die quickly and without much fuss.He swung his blade again. Again she avoided it.This time he went to ram the blade in her belly and she stepped aside, caught his arm, and bent it. The arm cracked like dry wood, part of the bone jutting through the skin, blood splattering across her face and the face of her comrade. Neither of them minded. The blood was like rainwater to them now. Refreshing in its purity.There were more angry men coming, so she cut the throat of the broken-armed man and faced those who would kill her. But she was no longer alone. The three other women who had died but now lived, jumped into the fray. They attacked with brutal force and unmitigated fury. Screaming and snarling, they took the men down and tore them to pieces, using the weapons of their enemies or their own hands.That’s when she noticed they had a bit of an audience. More crows had come to watch, staring at the women as they did their bloody work. One of the birds—birds she once saw as a portent of death but now saw only as winged friends—picked up a bit of bloody remains with its taloned feet and ate it.She lifted her own blood-covered hands and watched in horrified fascination as her fingers turned long and bladelike.Talons. She now had talons.She dropped the weapons she held. She could still use them if she had need, but this weapon would do her just fine.A man ran up from behind her and she turned into him, ramming her taloned hands into his gut. Once embedded in him, his shocked face staring down at her, she wiggled her fingers inside him, cutting his organs, gleeful in the knowledge that she was making his death as painful as possible.She’d been taught by the elders of her people that it was wrong to enjoy the death of another. One should kill out of necessity only. A fine and lofty belief. But who could afford fine and lofty beliefs among people like this?So instead, she shed her lofty ideals and embraced her rage. She embraced it as a lover would. Or the way a mother embraces her child.She ripped her hands from the man and his guts fell to the ground, moments before he followed.“They are demons!” someone screamed. “Kill them!”“We have played enough, sisters!” she called out, shocked that they seemed to understand her. They all spoke such different languages that none of them understood anyone very well. Instead, their masters showed them what they wanted or needed by force; although she’d begun to learn the masters’ language simply so that she knew when a blow was coming. When to anticipate pain. It had been a struggle . . . until now. Now she spoke and understood the language of these lands easily.“We have a chore to do for our new god,” she yelled out to her sisters. “She calls upon us. Let us do her bidding!”The women dropped their victims and finished them off. Then, as a well-trained fighting group, they charged into the newest bunch of men who came toward them. Cutting through them. Some of her sisters used stolen weapons. Others used the talons they now all had.It was joyous! The feel of destroying one’s enemy! After so much pain, so much torment . . . these men were now nothing to fear.She took it upon herself, as the first of those given this gift of a second life, to go for the Jarl who held the god’s prize. She rammed her body into him, taking him to the ground. Someone tried to pull her off, but that man was dragged away by one of her sisters. A woman now bound to her the way a blood sister was. Only this connection was stronger. They’d never fight over toys or their parents or, when older, men. Their bond was forged in blood and hatred and revenge. And nothing would ever sever that steel-plated connection.The leader she had pinned to the ground reached up and wrapped his hands around her throat, trying to choke the life from her. She grabbed his hands with her own and snapped back his fingers, breaking at least three on each hand. The leader screamed out and she knocked his arms away. She tore open his shirt with her talons, instinctively sensing where to find the god’s prize.His chest was bare except for skin and hair and scars. But one scar interested her the most. It was raised flesh, snaking across his chest.Grinning, she buried her talons deep into his body, his screams of torment echoing out over the field of death.“Does it hurt, little girl?” she asked him in his own language. “Remember when you asked me that?” She felt her smile grow even wider. “Well?” she pushed. “Does it? Does it hurt . . . little girl?”Her talons brushed against something not made of flesh or bone. She gripped it and tore it from his chest.She now held a blood-and-gore-covered gold necklace in her hand. It pulsed with power, giving her a momentary feeling of invincibility. She had no doubt that with this necklace, she could rule . . . everything.She left the now-dead Jarl and walked across the field to the woman called Skuld.Dropping to one knee, she held the necklace up for the god to take, which she did.“Why did you not keep it?” Skuld asked. “You were right . . . with it, you could rule everything on this mortal plane.”“I’d lost everything. Family. Home. And finally, life. But now you’ve given me what I need. Why would I want to rule everything when I can rule my own destiny?”She sensed that behind Skuld’s veil there was a smile, but she would never truly know.“Go,” the god said. “You and your sisters have more men to fight.”With a nod, she who was once a slave got back to her feet and headed toward the spot where her sisters fought.“Remember,” the god called out to her, “you have fulfilled your promise to me. So do not die on this field of battle. Not if you don’t have to. There will be other chores for you. Other battles to fight.”She did not understand what the god meant until she reached the others. One of them pointed with a blood-covered knife. “There are more men coming.”It wasn’t just more men. It was another army. And at its head was the father of the Jarl she’d just slain.“We kill them all?” one sister asked.“Or do we run?” asked another.“I won’t run,” the one closest to her declared. “I’ll never run again.”The sound of hooves pounding on the earth grew closer and the mass of crows that had been feasting on the dead suddenly took to the air.She who was once a slave looked up to watch their flight . . . and smiled. 

“Skuld,” one of the Valkyries demanded. “What have you done?”Skuld placed the blood-and-gore-covered necklace around her neck. She now wore it with pride. “I don’t know what you mean.”“What kind of powers have you given these slaves? Odin will—”“Odin,” Skuld cut in, “is not my master. Nor are you.”“But—”“And I’ve given these women nothing but what I’ve already given a few others over the eons . . . a second chance at life.”“What are you talking about? Look at them!”They all did as they watched the five women who were once dead kill man after man, and in so many interesting ways, too. And together. They worked together beautifully.“You gave them talons,” one Valkyrie accused.“And fighting skills they did not have before,” noted another.“And strength! They are as strong as us!”Skuld shook her head. “I gave them none of those things.”“What are you talking about? We have eyes. We see.”“And I gave them none of those things. I brought them back but with only one other blessing.”“Which was?”“To let rage be their guide. It is their rage that has given them so much. So much power, strength, and . . . talons.”“And how long will this blessed rage last?”“Just a few more seconds. I didn’t want to create new monsters. I simply wanted them to get me what I wanted. And they did. Now they will have blessings that will last their lifetimes . . . but the rest will be up to them.”“Herik and his men are coming. When he sees what your pets did to his son, he and his men will kill all of them. Will you give them life again?”“One more chance to live. That is all I promised them. What they make of that extra life is their own choice.”“What is happening?” One of the Valkyries pointed. “What is happening to them?”Skuld didn’t know. So she watched and waited.Still standing, the women writhed in obvious pain as the men rode closer. Their bodies shook and their muscles contorted. They were in such agony that at least two of them urinated where they stood.The Valkyries screamed out in shock as wings burst from the backs of the five women. Big, black wings. Like the wings of nearby crows who were circling over the dead, waiting to feast again.Once the wings were there, the women seemed to feel no more pain. They stood straight and ready for battle.Skuld began to laugh, long and loud, waking up the other gods who slumbered.Skuld, a wise woman goddess, prone to portents of death and despair, never laughed. So to hear the sound now only brought fresh fear to a fearful world.“By Odin,” a Valkyrie sighed. “Skuld, what have you done?”“Changed the game a bit, I think.”Still laughing, Skuld headed home to the World Tree. She had such a fun story to tell her sisters this evening as they took turns watering the tree’s roots. 

Once the pain stopped, She of No Name looked at her wings. They were now part of her. Not for a moment, but forever. She merely had to think what she wanted and her muscles would twitch and the wings would do what she needed.“I guess we won’t be running away,” one of her sisters joked.“They’ll never make us run again,” she said, smiling.She shook out her wings and the men riding toward her yanked on the reins of their horses, pulling them back.“Demons!” the men screamed. “They are demons! Run!”“My son!” their leader screamed. “Find my son!” But his men, in their fear, ignored their leader and ran. They ran from former slaves.“Now what?” one sister asked.“We find a place to rest and eat. I’m starving,” she suddenly realized. And now she would eat whatever she wanted. No more scraps from anyone else’s table, fought over with the dogs.“We’ll just walk around with these wings? They’re huge. The villagers will just try to kill us.”Realizing her sister had a point, she who was once a slave twitched her muscles and thought, hard. She realized it was becoming more difficult to create what she wanted for her body. That ability was quickly leaving her. But with some strong effort, the wings retracted into her, disappearing completely behind flesh. Then, with another twitch, the wings came out again.The other sisters laughed. “That’s brilliant!”“Now can we go and eat?” she said. “All this killing has made me so very hungry. But first . . .”“But first . . . what?”“But first”—she stretched out her arm and pointed at the dead leader’s father—“him.”Together they flew up and over to the man. He was still on his horse and pulled his sword, swinging wildly at them. She who was once a slave dove at him first, wrapping her legs around his waist and holding him while she stabbed at him with her blade. Two more sisters dropped on him and grabbed hold, stabbing at him as well. They kept stabbing, screaming as the man screamed, delighting in his blood and pain and misery as he had delighted in their subjugation. Finally, when the man no longer screamed but slumped in his saddle, only held up by them, one of the other sisters hovering nearby called out, “His men return!”Now they would go.They released their hold on the body and their wings lifted them, leaving the field of death behind. As they flew, they soon realized that the crows from the battlefield followed them.“Why do they follow?” one of the sisters asked over the cold northern winds.And she replied, “Because we are now one of them. Because we are now crows. For we, too, are the harbingers of death.”That night they slept like babes. No longer fearing anything. Not even death itself. 

Erin watched as Kera suddenly opened her eyes and looked around the room.“You okay?” she asked Kera.“I have to go,” Kera said, getting to her feet.“But—”“I have to go. I’m sorry. I have to go.” Then she was gone. Across the office and out the door.“Jesus Christ, she’s snapped,” Leigh said.But Betty didn’t agree. “No. She hasn’t.”“But she’s running,” Erin pointed out.“No. She’s not running.” And Betty smiled. “She’ll never run again.”