I heard Fell’s deep breath beside me as I filled my lungs slowly, but completely.
“And release slowly,” Fara said.“Valla taught me to breathe this way.It is easy to feel close to the gods when the breath is right.The gods are in the air… the city breathes them, too.”
I was used to Fara’s poetic way of speaking, her focus on symbolism.It didn’t bother me at all anymore.It was simply part of my life, because Rowan was part of my life, and he loved her.His face couldn’t hide it if he tried.
“Now!”Fara giggled, slapping the floor to get our attention.“I have something for Fell!”
It was mushrooms.Her gift for Fell was mushrooms.
He loved them and thanked her repeatedly.
“For you, Gentlewoman.”Rowan presented me with what was, by far, the better gift, but one that I abhorred.
It was a dagger, silver and shiny, the handle carved to look like Islish weaving.It even came with a leather scabbard, still firm in its newness.
I knew Rowan had made it for me.He’d told me that Faller had rented access to a smithing shop for him for several days, wanting to ensure that Rowan could make his own living should he be granted Norsernship.
“Thank you,” I said, wishing with my whole heart that I would never have to look upon it.Never have to think of it.
Fell was mesmerized.“It is beautiful,” he said to Rowan.“You have outdone all our gifts.”
I hadn’t known giving gifts at the start of a trip was a common Norsern thing, but it was, and Fell had handled it.A pouch of dried daisy petals for Fara.
“To keep my blood clean!Thank you, friend.”
For Rowan, he had dried rose root and a small wooden totem: the hammer of Frole, boat builder to the gods.Master of crafts.It hadn’t been lost on me that Rowan had become more and more curious about the Norsern gods.Much faster than I had.How Fell had known which one to select for Rowan, I couldn’t begin to guess.
And then, as the day became sunny and the city began to wake in full, we made our way to the docks closest to the sea, to set off for Byernen with King Arik and his many raiders.
Forty-Six
When we reached the sea’s edge, the king was having an energetic conversation with a tall man with frizzy, white hair, freckles, and decidedly worn clothing.An amused crowd was gathered around them, their expressions making it clear there was some kind of disagreement ongoing.
“I am not taking them,” the man was saying as we arrived, his arms crossed, his face cheerful.
“Do not be foolish,” Arik said.“Of course you are.”
The man raised his brows.
Arik straightened his back.“Ragan…”
“No.”
“I need them.”
“I am not saying do not take them.I am saying they are not coming onmyship.”
“And why not?”
“Because I have a crew to cast for and if they have been kept awake all night by a crying baby, they will be worse at… well… everything.”
It was at this point that I realized they might be talking about me and those I travelled with.
Arik sighed.“You are not serious.”
Ragan smirked.“You know me better than that.”
Fell was the only person I’d seen truly refuse the king without fear until Ragan.But unlike when Fell had done it, Arik didn’t seem ready to burst into rage-filled flame.He was still and quiet, accepting, but at the same time, his mind was visibly humming.He opened his mouth.
