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Arn’s shoulder touched mine, lightly. I leaned into that comfort.
“What…” I halted, for askingwhat happened aftersuddenly did not seem quite mannerly. I could not quite compass or absorb the rest of it—the Black Land renewed, the Enemy real instead of a myth to frighten misbehaving littles, the great twisted iron citadel of Agramar resounding with the screams of tortured prisoners…
I had to swallow hard, and row in another direction entirely. Fortunately, there was no shortage of questions, though I could not demand to know why on earth they had insisted uponmeinstead of Bjorn just yet. “I seem to do nothing but irritate my captor. What must I know to avoid giving offense, my lord Aeredh? My family owes Lord Eol a debt and I would have it fulfilled; ’twill be a long year-and-a-day indeed if I further insult him.”
For not only had my brother slain his, but I had all but called him a liar to his face. Even one of my father’s warriors might well take exception at that, and they had known me all my life. Besides, the man could hardly stand to speak to me, and each time he looked in my direction it was clear the sight pained him.
“Captor? My lady, you mistake him.” Aeredh seemed somewhat shocked, even disregarding Arneior in that moment; his eyebrows rose and he shifted his weight uneasily, quelling the movement almost before it was born. “He carries a burden, and it makes him sparing with his words. Some hold the house of Naras as cursed, for the Shadow fell heavily upon their hall even before that battle.”
Is that it?Relief burst upon me in a wave, almost better than a fire’s heat. No wonder they wished to take avolvaas weregild. “A curse, you say?” Perhaps that was the tale we were lost in, and I would be called upon to break some ancient malediction before returning home to forget such things as sheep-monsters, Elder wars, and Agramar.
I would not say the prospect of breaking ill-weirding delighted me, but it did not irk me either. Of such things is avolva’s fame made; it would be a proud deed, one even Idra might approve of. Notto mention accomplishing it could be held to cancel any weregild, and set me and my shieldmaid upon the road home.
“Ido not say, my lady.” Aeredh turned the question of illseidhraside very quickly indeed, but it is bad luck indeed to speak of such things and besides, we were now being pursued by something dire. “And that is not our purpose in bringing you hence. We have done you an ill turn, but we will reach Nithraen soon enough. And in any case Eol will take no insult from aught you choose to do.”
“Even though…” If they did not wish me to break some kind ofseidhr, what by Fryjadidthey want? Or was this an Elder test, to see if I had the skill to discern the form of the malison resting upon his friend? Was it a curse the Elder could not break, requiring a mortal to do so? Yet there was another consideration, and it leapt from my mouth despite all my caution. “If some ill has been done to me, why not return us to Dun Rithell and call the debt paid? Surely that is a little matter for one such as yourself. Or you may teach me theseidhrof your hidden roads; Arn and I will take ourselves home and trouble your friends no more.”
Aeredh straightened, though paying little heed to Arn’s concomitant tension. My shieldmaid’s grip tightened upon her spear.
“No.” His mien grew grave indeed, his mouth a thin line and his pale eyes alight. “We would rather lose ourselves than you, Lady Solveig. At Nithraen I may speak more freely, since the Enemy’s ears do not reach inside that fastness. Until then I would ask you to simply accompany us with as much patience as you may.”
The Northerners had finished their discussion. Efain the scarred drew close, his step almost as soft as the Elder’s. “It is indeed ill done,” he muttered in the Old Tongue. “The lady speaks fairly, Lord Aeredh. Surely you must see as much.”
I longed to make a reply in their language. Instead I turned away from the Elder, leaning even harder into Arn’s shoulder. “Easy, my shieldmaid.” For I knew that look in her eye very well indeed.
“I like it not.” Her brow was troubled, and she balanced lightly in her boots, her spear all but quivering with readiness. “They speak only of old nurse-tales when they deign to address us at all; even a weregild should not be treated so. And their weirding seems unhealthful. Perhaps we—”
“Aeredh!” The cry came from a few lengths outside our small group, and cloud-filtered sunlight grew sickly. It was Eol’s voice, and I realized the horses had become restless, stamping in the snow. Farsight’s ears laid back and she eyed me sidelong; a quiver ofseidhrbrushed inside my skull.
A four-footed cousin will remember you leading them out of danger and back to their fellows. Trust grows from such things, and besides, I had been upon her back for some while now.
Eol appeared between two trees, frozen white traces upon his shoulders as he moved with long swinging strides, breaking through soft, untrodden white with no more sound than falling flakes themselves. “A-saddle, and quickly,” he barked.
Arneior lost no time pushing me toward Farsight. She all but tossed me into the saddle, and was upon her own stamping, snorting mount in a moment. The Northerners followed suit; Eol was the last, and had barely gathered his reins when a low, spike-edged howl rose from the east—the nasty scraping upon the wind was kin to that noise, I thought. It lingered somewhere between a brazen horn and an animal’s cry.
It was also uncomfortably close. Mute during the disaster of the solstice,seidhrwas now warning me. Unease turned to outright fear, crystal-clear and clarion-loud.
We set off at a bruising trot, our mounts stepping not quite as lightly as before. Each hoof-fall jolted in every joint I owned, and for some short while there was nothing but the muffled rhythm of our passage.
The calm did not last. “Orukhar,” Soren finally said as he brought his prancing, snorting mount near, and cast me an indecipherable glance.
“And somewhat else, I think.” Aeredh’s steed matched Farsight’s pace so closely they sounded a single beast. “How close, Eol?”
“Too close for comfort.” The captain raised his right hand briefly; Gelad’s horse moved nearer to Arneior’s. Soren drew hard upon my left as Aeredh kneed his mount forward. Eol’s breath came deep and fast, as if after running a hard league or three. He spoke rapidly in the Old Tongue. “I can smell the filth. We have no choice but to stay upon the road, and yet—”
“We have not come this far to founder now.” Soren’s hand movedas if he longed to free his blade, but he looked to me and it fell back to his reins.
I found myself wondering, uselessly, aboutNaras. The name had never been mentioned in any saga I knew, but of course, that meant little. Sometimes when disaster looms the mind fills itself with inconsequentials to avoid looking directly into its eye.
“’Tis ill-bred to mutter so in a foreign tongue.” Arneior’s chin was set, and her dark eyes flashed. Her hood had fallen free, her spearblade glistered angrily, and to judge by her seat she was ready for all manner of mayhem. No doubt such exertion seemed more healthful to her than old legends, weirding, and half-voiced warnings. “What speaks in the woods?”
I listened intently, my head cocked. After a few moments I realized Aeredh’s was held at the same angle, his ear-tips all but twitching. Farsight stepped nervously, lifting each shod hoof high, her nostrils wide as she caught a thread of evil-rotten scent.
It tingled in my own nose, and I suddenly wished I was not quite so entangled with her. Though the contact brought us both comfort, the stink was awful.
“Orukhar,” Gelad answered, the word hissing-soft, laden with hatred. He pushed his cloak back, freeing his arms; it would be chill riding but he was now free to draw blade without hindrance. “They are foul, my lady Minnow, and strong. Your spear may acquire a name, should we meet them.”
“Good.” But my shieldmaid looked to me, both for guidance and any additional information I could gather.
