Page 97 of Lord of Fire and Ice

“When we were in Miklagaard, you know I served aboard the emperor’s dromond for a few months,” Brandr said. “What I didn’t tell you is that while I was there, I learned the secret of Greek fire.”

Ragnar’s eyes went wide, and he made the sign against evil with one hand, close along his side where he must have thought Brandr wouldn’t see. “A chancy weapon.”

“It can be,” Brandr admitted. “Without a fire mage to control the flames, it’s not unusual for the blaze to turn back on the ship that first releases it.”

Fire at sea was a sailor’s worst nightmare. The horror of it was part of what made the Byzantine weapon so universally feared.

“We’ve never used such a thing here in the North,” Harald said doubtfully. “Give me a double-headed axe and let me take my chances with the Choosers of the Slain.”

“That supposes a battle with dirt beneath your feet,” Brandr said. “Wouldn’t you rather stop invaders before they reach our land, far from our women and children?”

“So far you’re the only one among us who’s shackled with a woman and child.” Harald crossed his arms over his chest and frowned with fierceness. Then his frown faded. “Oh, I might as well admit it. I hate it when you’re right all the time. But are you sure you’re right this time? All you’re going on is the word of a few sheep molesters.”

“And the word of Dalla the Deep-Minded,” Brandr said. “Don’t forget that. She recognized the figure of the goddess Tryggr carried, and said it was the embodiment of a spirit from ancient times, brutal times. Dalla says the Bloodaxe is bringing the Old Ones with him. And worship of those spirits calls to the worst of men. We can expect no quarter.”

Brandr looked around the circle of faces and saw grim acceptance on each one. “So Orlin and I will find the material necessary to make Greek fire. I’ve already given the smith the design needed to fashion the drums that will store the ingredients separately until we wish to combine them and funnel the flames out a nozzle. We need a weapon as fierce as our foes. It’s our best chance to keep this hate from the past away from our shores.”

***

Katla followed Brandr to the wharf the next morning. “You’re sure you must go? You’re jarl in all but name here. You could dispatch someone else to gather what you need. There’s no question you’d be obeyed.”

“Whom would I send?” Brandr asked. “It would mean giving the secret of our weapon to another soul, and you know as well as I that a secret between two can be kept only if one of them is dead.”

“Yet you and I hold all each other’s secrets,” she Sent to him.

He swung her into his arms for a deep kiss. “And I’d have it no other way, love.”

A thrill shivered over her whole body, as though he’d stroked her most sensitive spot. Katla reveled in the way Brandr could hear her thoughts now. It was still a struggle to keep her mind open to him. Being closed off was a long-standing habit for her, but the joy of hearing his deep bass reverberate inside her was worth the effort of opening herself to him.

She gave him another kiss and wrapped her cloak tightly about her form against the stiff breeze coming off the water. Brandr joined Orlin in the waiting knorr, along with six sturdy oarsmen should the wind prove unfavorable. Brandr took his place at the tiller and ordered the sail set.

“At least we’ll have a chance to see how far we can Send our thoughts.” His rumbling timbre lifted her lips in a smile as the vessel eased away from the dock.

“I must hear from you every day,” she Sent back.

“Without fail. I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.” His silent internal laughter made her chest vibrate pleasantly.

“If I’m not back in a week—” he began.

“You’ll be back,” she interrupted with more optimism than she felt.

He lifted a hand in farewell.

Her heart swelled. Inn matki munr was more than she’d ever dreamed it could be. They’d been given so much. Mortals who revel in this much joy were right to worry that the gods might take offense. Even though she ached to hear more from Brandr, she erected a small wall in her mind, and behind it, she tucked her fear.

She had much to lose.

Katla watched from the end of the wharf until the square sail of Brandr’s vessel disappeared completely from her sight.

***

Four days later, Katla and Hilde were seated at the large looms by the open jarlhof door. Drawing the weft through the warp of the growing length of cloth was a soothing, mind-numbing occupation. Linnea was swaddled in a small cradle beside Katla’s loom. The babe seemed fascinated by the dangling loom stones along the bottom. Hilde’s quiet companionship was a balm for Katla’s worry for Brandr.

If only he was home safe, Katla would be perfectly at peace. According to the thoughts he’d Sent her, she knew he lacked only one element for fashioning his strange southern weapon.

“Oh, my lady!” With her child strapped to her chest in a sling, Una came running up the hill toward the jarlhof.

“What is it?” Katla rose.