Page 4
It worked. Whatever heat had bloomed faded quickly as everyone circled round, and Revni breathed more easily. No wonder Ragn had become their unofficial leader. He had a way about him.
Knuf—the Serpent steersman—squatted. “Dina? Caerd?” He lifted the head by its hair. “Do the tribes look different?”
“Not when they’re dead,” someone said, and everyone laughed.
The body had a grotesque gash from his neck halfway through his sternum, and a confusing clash of curiosity and sorrow twisted in Revni’s gut. Was this boy her kill? It was the will of the gods. But he looked barely older than Torst. Not even old enough to shave.
The boy’s head thumped on a rock, and Revni’s stomach flipped again. Knuf stood, sniffing the wind.
“I say we raid.”
Grunts of agreement, or maybe questioning grumbles. Revni couldn’t tell the difference anymore. Revni’s mother’s soft voice curled into her ear.
“Why don’t you sit by the fire?”
She hadn’t even noticed her mother come up, but that little worm of worry uncurled. Her mother and father would settle things. Hyld nodded towards Sulvi hunkered on a piece of driftwood, clutching her elbows, and the almost-smile Hyld gave her daughter, the shared thought that shot between them—What a farm girl Sulvi is—filled Revni with a sudden protectiveness.
Whatever her parents wanted, she would follow. Raid, leave, fight. They were all that was left, their little triangle. All that really mattered.
“Hyld?”
“It’s a risk.” Revni’s mother answered, gently pushing Revni out of the crowd.
“We’ve had luck this far.”
The voices carried at Revni’s back, arguing the way the Isfolj always did. Nothing was ever settled. Every man and woman had a voice, and they all seemed to use them at once.
“You were brave.” Sulvi sounded small. Revni only nodded and sat next to her, their hips touching. Sulvi was warm.
Revni leaned her head against Sulvi’s shoulder, her eyes heavy. She was glad her friend was here.
Revni woke before dawn, Sulvi gone and her head somehow in her mother’s lap.
“Shh,” Hyld whispered, petting her hair. Revni settled.
“There are only three holymen that guard the monastery.” Her mother spoke in a soothing voice, like she was reciting a tale to make Revni go back to sleep. “We’ll go when first light breaks, through the fens. Ragn knows the way. The ones that stay behind will prepare the ships to sail, and we’ll be back on the water before the sun begins to dip.”
Revni was awake now, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Will you go?”
“Of course.”
“Will I?”
“Sa. If you like.” Her mother gave a soft smile. “We’ll need a strong soti by our side.”
Revni could never interpret her mother’s tone. It was always so soft when she spoke of fighting, like other mothers spoke of their children’s babies—like something to be cherished and regretted all at once.
“My daughter. All grown up.” She brushed her fingers over Revni’s hair one last time before giving her a pat that clearly meant Get up.
Revni groaned and stood, stretching out her stiff back. “How many days until the settlement?” She didn’t mind sleeping on the ship, actually, but Revni imagined beds of hay covered in soft furs and could have drooled with anticipation.
“A few days? I’m not sure.” Her mother passed her the pot of kohl. Revni dabbed her pinkie in the mix and striped it around her eyes. “They call the river we’ll go up The Snake. It twists and turns and narrows like you’re going into its belly. It will be dangerous.”
Revni blinked kohl from her eyelashes. “I’m ready.”
“May the gods protect us.” Revni’s father appeared behind her. He already bore his markings, a half-face of blackened dirt to show his ranking, but he dipped his fingers in the handful of mud in his palm and swiped two lines across her cheeks.
