Lord of Fire and Ice (24 page)

Days passed in a peaceful procession. Without the burden of an entire farmstead on her shoulders, Katla’s world constricted to the pleasant little domestic circle of two she and Brandr shared. Linnea flourished in its center, squealing with delight when Brandr dandled her on his knee. Once Katla’s moon subsided, she and Brandr loved each other to exhaustion each night.

Every day they learned more of what it meant to share
inn
matki
munr
. With Dalla’s help, they practiced sending their thoughts to each other and, just as importantly, according to the old woman, learned to erect a wall in their minds when one was warranted.

“Everyone needs a private center for their soul that’s all their own,” she told them.

Katla was happy, happy as she’d never been in her entire life. Yet in quiet moments, she feared this happiness. It was too much. Too glorious.

Too fragile.

Like Frankish glass, it could all shatter in a moment. After having so much, the loss of it would be crueler than never having had such joy at all.

***

Brandr sat in council with his friends after Arn retired to his chamber, spent from the exertion of walking from his bed to his throne and back. So long as Brandr confined the attendance in his secret meetings to just his friends, Arn would have no idea his brother was acting in his stead on behalf of the
jarldom
.

“We could wait for the return of the king,” Harald suggested.

“Olav is in Ireland,” Brandr said. “He’s so busy expanding his boundaries, who knows when he’ll return to the main bulk of his kingdom? The defense of Hardanger Fjord is up to us.”

In the end, it was decided that Harald, Ragnar, Torvald, and Torsten would visit nearby
jarls
in the fjord with warnings about the return of Bloodaxe. Brandr insisted on sending a generous gift of silver to his potential allies from his portion of the cache the men brought back from Byzantium.

“Wealth makes itself friends,” he said. “And I fear we’ll need them.”

The emissaries from Jondal would shore up alliances and make sure the signal-fire system was in place and manned at all hours. Then in a week, they were to meet back in Jondal to report their progress.

“What are you and Orlin going to do?” Harald wanted to know.

“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.

“’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.”

“A wise course,” Dalla said with an approving nod.

“Why didn’t you light the signal fire?” Katla asked. “Our allies would have come.”

“I’m not so sure of that, but that’s the first place I went. The signal fire was already heavily guarded by Bloodaxe’s men,” Finn said.

“You wouldn’t have needed to get close,” the
jarl
of Jondal said. “A well-placed fire arrow would have done the job. Or is the arm of Tysnes too weak to draw a bow?”

“I would have done,” Finn said, his voice breaking with emotion, “but Bloodaxe had strapped my only living brother to the top of the woodpile, to discourage just such a thing.”

“Haukon,” Katla whimpered.

“Then Inga and I stole a
faering
, and we’ve been rowing and sailing to your threshold ever since,” Finn said. “Will you help us, my lord?”

In the silence that followed, Katla heard her heart pounding in her ears.

“We are not unmoved by your plea,” Arn said. “But we must look to our own. If Bloodaxe is preparing to invade the fjord, we cannot spare men or time to mount an assault on the force that holds faraway Tysnes.” He lifted a hand to his guard. “Summon my council in chambers. We must plan for the defense of Jondal and—”

He stopped and looked around the great hall. “Where is Brandr? And the rest of his band of travelers?”

“They set sail a few days ago,” Hilde said quietly.

Arn made a disgusted snort. “Just when they might have been useful. Still, we must build earthworks. Barricades. Set the smiths and fletchers to work immediately. Every man must have a sword and a full quiver of arrows.” Then he turned his masked face back to Finn. “You and your woman may stay and aid in the defense of Jondal. We welcome your sword arm, Tysnesman.”

Finn didn’t answer, but Katla saw the muscles in his shoulders bunch beneath his ragged tunic. Arn raised himself to stand and shuffle out without waiting for Finn’s reply. The
jarl
leaned heavily on his guard’s arm.