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“This serves nothing.” Efain kept his tone low and reasonable, and though his two companions stepped aside as necessary for three men with a single foe, still none drew. “I am sorry for my part in it, my ladyalkuine, but I cannot return you to your home nor let you wander unprotected.”
I have Arn, thank you.“Then you will either take us prisoner or become our allies.” I did not speak overloud now, but I did not whisper. “I suggest the latter.”
Arn retreated another step, ready to dance. With her spear level and her gaze clear and direct, she was every inch the shieldmaid. Some few bits of melting ice clung to the dust upon her ruddy hair. We were a sorry-looking lot indeed, and I did not like to argue withorukharand possibly more of those lich-things about.
But I would not have a better chance to alter our captivity, and Arneior visibly agreed. At least I had the comfort of knowing she judged my behavior well within the bounds of propriety. I was not shaming Dun Rithell with breaking a compact; the Northerners had marred it at birth.
“What is it she wants now?” Gelad’s eyes, blue as my own, narrowed as he glanced to Eol’s lieutenant.
“Clever girl.” Efain shook his head slightly, forestalling his companions’ further argument. “My lady, we are honored to have you as an ally. Let us leave this place.”
“Not quite.” Arn’s braids swung gently, caressed by cold wind, but her spear was solid and level. “Swear to it, Northerner. And you two as well.”
“There is no time for this.” Karas’s fingertips brushed a swordhilt, and if he drew to strike we would not leave here without spilling Northern blood.
Arn’s stance changed. Just a fraction, just enough. A great brushing calm spread from her in overlapping waves, a sign the Wingéd were watching closely. I hoped they found this acceptable. Sincewehad done nothing wrong, and were facing men besides, it seemed likely they would lend at least a fraction of their aid.
I hoped it would be enough; the question of just what helpfulseidhrI could perform now loomed before me.
“It makes no difference.” Efain studied me closely, as if Arn were not between us—and as if I had done something very interesting indeed, like a saga-hero’s horse deciding to speak at a critical juncture, or a stone moaning a riddle in the night. The slight sounds of ice-leaves falling changed; thin freezing mist crept between the trees as the sun rose. “We may promise them whatever they wish.”
I drew back into the shadow of my mantle’s hood, hoping my face was a mask. “Decide quickly.”
“Then may the Blessed witness we are glad to have you as an ally, Solveig of Dun Rithell.” Efain managed to say it as if he were giving a promise of great import. “And for their part, Gelad and Karas will swear the same.”
“Oh, aye.” Karas all but spat. Strands of hair had freed themselves from the leather club he usually bound it in, and the skin-ripple I had seen on others of his kind passed through him once, a warning flicker. “Now may we leave, my lady? Iforukharfind us—”
“I will not be further shamed.” Gelad’s sword left its sheath; Arn did not move, though the feather-brushing intensified. TheNortherner took two steps toward her, drove the point into frozen turf, then sank to one knee despite the ice creep-clinging to the grasses. There were no threads of green at their hearts now; any tender new growth had faded with the night. “This is how we swear such things in the North, my lady Solveig; I am Gelad son of Aerenil, and I pledge myself to our alliance.” His blade gleamed, and Efain muttered a term in the Old Tongue I had never heard used as an obscenity before. “It is little enough, in light of your bravery.”
“Eol will not like this,” Karas muttered, but he performed the same movement, kneeling with his bared blade a gleaming upright bar. “So do I, Karas son of Nareal, pledge myself.”
Efain did not give his father’s name, but he performed the maneuver as well, then it was done. I was no longer weregild, but an ally. Such a position has much more freedom than one paying off a life-debt, and if Eol of Naras were dead in the ruin of the Elder city…
I did not like thinking upon that possibility; I had enough to worry over at the moment. If the Northern captain by some miracle appeared again, I could use an oath sworn by three of his men as leverage.
And if they treated me as a prisoner afterward, it relieved me and my shieldmaid of any polite behavior, unquestioning obedience, or of the duty to aid our captors. I did not think even my mother, well known for her skill in negotiation, could have done better.
Arn did not lift her spear until they had all resheathed, and we set off again through the rapidly rising mist gilded with dawn. My shieldmaid’s shoulder brushed mine before we followed the Northerners, though, and it was heartening to feel her approval of the gambit.
“We could still make our way home,” she said, not very loudly.
“Soon enough.” My gloved hands were fists, my fingers numb. I was glad of a bloodless victory; no doubt much crimson had been shed the night before, and my stomach flipped uneasily. We were weregild no longer and I had one other piece of useful information gained from the moment: Karas considered their captain still alive. I did not wonder why that realization caused a great burst of warm relief in my middle. “We are not helpless now.”
She did not sniff that we had never been truly helpless, which told me she considered my solution to our predicament canny enough, though perhaps not completely elegant. “Next time, let me stab someone.”
If I thought it likely to get us home, I would.I edged closer to Gelad, walking as softly as possible. “My lord?”
The Northerner kept moving, his boots landing soundless as Arn’s own. “What now?” His whisper was fierce again and his mien severe, but neither were enough to dissuade me.
I had a further purpose for this man, especially if his captain was angered at my new status. It was no different than breaking steading-lords away from a warlord grown too large, or uniting a pair of fractious warriors in common cause to make them cease yapping at each other.
“I wish to thank you,” I murmured. “For your honesty.”
He made no reply.
Individual, Complete
To fight theorukhar, a sword; to fight atrul, the spear; to fight a lich, an Elder’s touch. But to fight one of the Seven, you can only die well.
