Page 98 of Lord of Fire and Ice

“’Tis your brother. He’s come.”

Guilt prickling her soul, Katla left Linnea in Hilde’s care and ran down the long hill toward the wharf. She had been so wrapped up in Brandr and her new daughter, she’d barely spared a thought for the folk on Tysnes Island. Halfway down the slope, she found Finn struggling up it, supporting Inga, who leaned heavily on him. Their clothes were covered with soot and filth, and Inga’s face was pale and haggard.

“Finn. What’s happened?”

“Water first, Katla. We’ve been two days without.” Finn’s voice was a rasping shadow of its usual boom.

“Of course.” She came along the other side of Inga and lifted the woman’s arm over her shoulder. Inga was barefoot, and her toenails were cracked and bleeding.

To conserve Finn’s energy, they climbed the rest of the way to the jarlhof without another word. As they drew near, Katla shouted out for assistance. One of Arn’s sturdy retainers met them. He scooped Inga into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

“Hilde, rouse Arn,” Katla said. “Prepare him to meet with my brother after I’ve seen to his food and drink. I suspect his is a tale that will bear only one telling.”

Finn tossed her a weary, grateful look and nodded.

Katla served them draughts of cool spring water and fresh milk while she warmed portions of last night’s stew. She sliced a couple loaves of barley bread and slathered the pieces with butter and honey. Inga ate sparingly, and when her head began nodding, Katla arranged for her to be shown to one of the empty quarters and put to bed.

Questions tramped on her tongue, but Katla bit them back until Finn pushed back his trencher and swiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“What’s happened, Finn?”

“Better I should tell Brandr.”

“He’s not here, and his brother is gravely ill.” She almost warned Finn not to be shocked at Arn’s appearance, but something in her brother’s eyes told her he’d seen worse than a leper in the past few days. “Come. Let me take you to the jarl.”

Katla hadn’t seen Arn since the night of Brandr’s welcome-home night meal. His disease had progressed with devastating swiftness, and his entire face was now hidden by a mask. Only the glittering eyes behind the slits showed there was a living soul within the mass of bandages on the jarl’s carved judgment seat.

Dalla and Hilde flanked him on the dais.

“Speak, brother of our sister,” Hilde said. “And the jarl of Jondal will give you ear.”

Finn straightened his spine. “Four days ago, our steading on Tysnes was set upon by a fleet of five dragonships, and we were overrun. The force was led by Albrikt Gormson.” Finn cast a grim, apologetic glance at Katla. “I give you my word I had no idea what he was planning when he came to us, asking for your hand.”

“Never mind, Finn,” Katla said quietly. “What’s done is done.”

“The next day, another twenty ships joined his in our sheltered cove. These ships and crews owe allegiance to Malvar Bloodaxe of Hebrides, heir of Eric Bloodaxe and pretender to the throne. He ordered the taking of Tysnes as a staging ground for his assault on Hardanger Fjord.”

“Where is this Bloodaxe now?” Arn’s voice was muffled but understandable.

“On Tysnes, waiting for more of his pledgemen.”

Twenty-five ships with more on the way. All the air whooshed out of Katla’s lungs. “What happened to the people of Tysnes?”

“Those who resisted were killed. Those who didn’t were enthralled,” Finn said with bitterness. He turned to Katla. “Einar is dead.”

She covered her mouth to stifle a sob. She and Einar had never gotten on well. He never listened to a thing she said, and she never gave him credit for things he tried to accomplish, but now any chance of reconciliation was gone forever.

“If everyone was killed or enthralled, how is it I see you before me this day?” Arn asked. “And where is the woman who came with you?”

“She was exhausted from her travels, my lord,” Katla said. “I sent her to bed.”

“My question stands, Tysnesman,” Arn said.

“I had spent the night in the forest. With the woman. We were not in the longhouse when it was attacked.”

Katla raised a brow. She’d never suspected Finn harbored tender feelings for Inga. Now that she thought about it, she remembered he’d always sat at rapt attention whenever she played her flute. In better days, she’d be happy for them both.

“I wanted to join in the defense,” Finn said, “but the woman with me convinced me we could do more for the people by staying clear of the fight and learning what we could before going for help.”