“And Hokni’s new bride looked at him as if he were insane. She got up and left the wedding feast, but Hokni didn’t even notice. Kuhntul had bewitched him, of course. She’d controlled both kings perfectly, playing one against the other.”
“Of course, the woman was no envoy of the Dark Queen,” said Meuhlnir, stroking his beard.
“No, but none of us knew that at the time. It appeared to be a play, a stratagem designed to make an invasion easier.”
“How so?” asked Neerowthr.
“By eliminating two strong nations, thus creating a power vacuum into which the Dark Queen could have stepped,” said Frikka.
“Exactly right,” said Althyof. “But Tverkar don’t think that way. Instead of creating a power vacuum, it galvanized the Tverkar, unified us—for once. We prepared for an attack on Nitavetlir, all nations working together in a common cause.”
“And when no attack came?” asked Veethar.
Althyof shrugged. “When no attack came, we decided to go on the offensive, to punish the Dark Queen for her interference. Meuhlnir’s entreaty served as a good excuse.”
“Hmph. And here I thought my oratory skills had carried the day.”
Althyof chuckled. “Not likely. It was a convocation of Tverkar you addressed. You didn’t insult anyone; how could we trust you? All that blather about common goals, common enemies.”
“Well, it was true,” Meuhlnir said.
“To you, yes. To the Tverkar?” Althyof spread his arms and shook his head. “There was no profit in your proposal.”
“Where was the profit in taking revenge?” asked Sif.
“Sometimes, my Lady Sif, vengeance is profit enough. Eh, Veethar?”
Veethar gazed at Althyof with a placid expression and said nothing.
Althyof shrugged. “We didn’t find out it was Kuhntul acting on her own until the battle of Raytyanes. As you no doubt know, Kuhntul created a bit of a stir.”
“How so?” I asked.
Althyof glanced at me, a crooked grin on his face. “She and Skuhgul—another of the Tisir—ripped through the Dark Queen’s karls like a sterk task, slaying them with a passion. Yarl Howkon stood and died with his karls. Despite his use of the strenkir af krafti, he couldn’t save his men, or even himself. Kuhntul and Skuhgul were too powerful, too furious.”
“And the Tverkar saw it and knew they’d been tricked?” asked Jane.
Althyof waggled his head back and forth. “In a way…We were there, undermining the keep walls. We heard Kuhntul and Skuhgul arrive—who could miss that frenetic bruit—and we rushed out of our tunnels, believing at first a cave-in was imminent. We saw them, sweeping through the men on the walls, white streaks that left blood and body parts in their wake. We didn’t recognize what they were at the time; we thought it might have been the work of a powerful vefari. When the din ceased, the gates of the fortress were thrown open, and two women stood inside, making gestures of welcome. One of them was the blonde woman from the tale I told. Kuhntul.”
“And? What about your vengeance?” asked Mothi.
Althyof scoffed. “We’d just seen the two of them decimate an entire fortress of men—vefari, yarls, karls, thralls—indiscriminately. We may be a grumpy bunch, but we aren’t a stupid grumpy bunch.”
“Did anyone confront her?” I asked.
“I did,” said Althyof. “I demanded her name, and this time she told me. I demanded she explain herself, and she laughed at me. Skuhgul came to stand by her side, glowering and humming a spooky little tune. I thought it prudent to leave.”
I glanced at Meuhlnir, then shifted my gaze to Veethar. “The Tisir helped you in the war?”
Meuhlnir glanced at Veethar and said, “Yes.”
At the same moment, Veethar said, “No.” The two Isir locked eyes for a moment.
“Which is it?” I asked, but neither man would elaborate on his original answer.
Frikka took a drink of her mead. When she swallowed, she said, “Kuhntul and Skuhgul wore white during that battle. Are you aware that they appear as white or black depending on their intentions?”
I nodded.
“Well, in other battles, they or others of their kind appeared dressed in black.”
“And so we arrive back to ‘I don’t know’ as the answer du jour?”
“The what?” asked Meuhlnir.
“It means ‘of the day.’”
“Oh… As I said before, the role of the Tisir on Osgarthr is complicated.”
“These Tisir are fickle,” said Jane.
“They may be,” said Frikka. “But even so, ignore them at your peril.”
“But how can you trust what they say? How can you ever be sure if they want to help you or hurt you?” asked Jane.
Frikka shrugged and took another sip of mead.
“Well, using the color guideline that seems to be the only constant in the subject, Kuhntul’s appearance, in this case, is malevolent.”
“Yes, but to whom?” asked Veethar.
“I’m the one she came to.”
“Sure, but perhaps by manipulating you, she is acting against someone else,” said Althyof. “There’s no telling what any given Tisir is up to. They are a cantankerous lot.”
“Coming from a Tverkr, that says a lot,” said Mothi.
Althyof squinted at him and laughed. “I like you, lad.”
Mothi grinned. “I’m a likeable fellow.”
“Even if you do smell like dirty socks,” said Sig in a stage whisper.
“I’m not the one who doesn’t enjoy bathing.”
“Well, Cousin Mouthy, thanks for telling my mom.”
“Your mom had already discerned your lack of bathingness. I do have a nose.” Jane cocked her eyebrow at him. “I’m getting a prophecy. You will be bathing tonight.”
“Too bad you don’t follow Auntie Flicka’s example and keep your prophecies to yourself.”
“Boy,” I growled.
“Kidding, Dad. Geesh.”
I smiled and winked at him. “Me too.”
“Dadgumit! Foiled by Cop-voice. Again!”
Tholfr and his son banged in from the kitchen, each carrying three times as much food as our party could eat in two sittings. I didn’t complain, though, the scent of it made my mouth water.
After we finished supper, Jane and I went up to our room. I felt the way I did most nights after my Personal Monster™ had kept me awake throughout the previous night: groggy and fuzzy-headed. There was a fire blazing in the room’s little stone fireplace, and the room was sweltering. It felt good for a moment, but I had to open the window and let some of the brisk air in.
“What are your thoughts about all that?” I asked, trying for casual, but hitting the mark for awkward instead.
“About those three men who have to sleep in the stables because of this weird caste thing they’ve got going on here? I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but that’s not what I meant.”
“About this Kuhntul woman? She sounds like someone we don’t need to invite over to dinner.”
“Ten-four on that.”
“What was it she told you?”
“She said there was a betrayer in the party. A traitor.”
“Naw,” said Jane. “They could have betrayed us during the battle at Piltsfetl.”
“I know, that was my thought as well. Some of the others immediately pointed at Althyof.”
“Why?”
“Tverkar have a mercenary reputation.”
Jane shrugged and slipped into the bed. “Ah!” she exclaimed. “Bed! Warm and cozy.”
I shook my head. “You’re insane. It’s sweltering in here.”
“Well, I’m cold, so there. Plus, I don’t care if you’re hot, get your ass in bed and get to sleep. If you pull another all-nighter, I’ll have to beat you, and then your fancy new friends will know what a wimp you are.”
I climbed into bed and shoved the covers off.
Jane shrugged even further under the covers. “More for me!”
“Hog them all you want, dear,” I murmured and fell asleep.