CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

When Erlan called a halt, they had been following the river for about a league.

Kai had scouted ahead and found a campsite close by the river under some tall pines. It had only been two or three hours on horseback, but Lilla felt nearly delirious with fatigue. Kai had produced food enough to strengthen her till nightfall. But the memory of that place wouldn’t be as easy to shift as an empty stomach.

Erlan had hardly said a word since they’d ridden away from the horrible stench of burning bodies. She’d noticed him cradling his arm most tenderly. If he felt anything like her, he’d be happy to curl up in the snow and die, there and then. Though after all they’d been through, that was probably a bit of a waste.

Her feet were the worst. She’d bound them with a few strips of cloth, cut from a cloak they’d brought for her, but that was hardly enough to stop the slow creep of pain up her calves from the cuts and bruises and swelling. Being astride a horse was some relief. But now it was time to dismount.

She looked down, reluctant to surrender her distance from the ground. Dreading the pain. Too stubborn to ask for help.

Stupid. Why do I have to do everything myself?

She just did.

‘Something not to your liking with this spot, Princess?’ asked Erlan, tying off his horse next to Kai’s. The boy was already off searching for firewood.

‘No, I. . .’ She looked around. ‘It will serve.’

When she didn’t move, he sighed. ‘A princess requires a hand down, that it?’ He came closer and proffered up his arms. ‘Come on then.’

‘I can manage on my own,’ she said stiffly.

‘Suit yourself.’ He turned away.

She swung her leg over the horse’s withers, biting her lip in anticipation. She dropped to the ground. Pain roared up her legs. She whimpered, staggering against the horse.

Erlan could hardly fail to notice. ‘Come on – take my arm.’

‘I’m fine,’ she insisted, swallowing the tremor in her voice. She lifted the blanket off her horse, meaning to dump it with the rest of their gear, but on the first step, her knees folded into the snow.

‘And you say I’m stubborn,’ he growled, scooping her up and swinging her into his arms. When she didn’t answer, he just snorted, carried her over to the pile of furs and put her down. ‘You sit here.’

She was too tired to argue. Too tired to find some proud retort. She sat huddled up, while Kai chased around gathering more wood and Erlan lit the fire. Before long its familiar heat was warming her face and the soles of her battered feet. It felt good beyond description.

‘Don’t you move a muscle, my lady,’ crowed Kai. ‘I’ll soon whistle you up a dish worthy of your father himself.’ He insisted his master should do no more than her, so Erlan soon limped over and dropped down beside her.

He had in his hands a knife, an undershirt and his sheepskin coat.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘You need these more than I do.’

‘Won’t you be cold without that?’ She gestured at the coat.

‘Out here, I’m cold with it – cold without it. So what’s the difference? Give me your feet.’

Hesitatingly, she moved them towards him. He took them gently and, one by one, undid the bindings and peeled away the cloth. She winced at the cold air. The firelight revealed soles rubbed raw, swollen with blisters, mottled with bruises.

‘By the hanged.’ The stranger gave a low whistle. ‘It’s a wonder you can even walk.’

‘Like you.’ She’d said it before she’d even thought it, and immediately regretted her sharp tongue. Why can’t I keep my stupid mouth shut sometimes?

She saw he was offended. But this time he only raised his eyebrows and murmured, ‘If you can bear just a little more of the cold . . .’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but took a handful of snow and began cleaning the wounds. She bit her lip, groaning at the fresh torment. But he was soon done, drying each foot carefully, cutting the undershirt into bandages and wrapping them up.

Then he began carving up his coat to fashion a pair of sheepskin coverings. ‘These’ll last you until. . . well, as long as they last.’ By the time he’d finished binding them tight with twine, the pain had eased a good deal and her feet felt snug.

‘Thank you.’ She meant it.

‘Nothing more than my duty. For the daughter of my king,’ he added, voice laced with sarcasm. He sheathed his knife and sat back, gazing into the fire, cradling his arm.

‘Let me see that.’ She nodded at his arm.

‘You?’

‘Of course, me,’ she said impatiently, trying to get hold of it.

‘It’s fine,’ he protested. ‘I’ve had worse.’

‘Any worse and your arm would fall off, idiot. Show me.’

So he showed her, pulling off his tunic and draping a fur across his shoulders. The wound was a long, deep cut from the back of his bicep to the crook of his elbow. Much of the blood was congealed, but for a dark line glistening down the middle.

‘It’s deep,’ was her verdict. She peered closer. ‘Although . . .’

‘What is it?’

She looked up at him. ‘When did you receive this?’

‘You know when. Just before I found you. Why?’

‘The healing is already well advanced. Strange. . .’ she muttered. It didn’t make sense. Then again, there was still plenty of need for her skill. ‘Anyway, it should be cleaned and bound.’ She began dabbing at the wound with a damp scrap of linen, feeling his eyes on her as she smoothed away the dried blood.

‘Your lips are moving,’ he murmured.

‘Oh.’ She hadn’t even realized she was doing it.

‘More sorcery?’ He cocked an eyebrow.

‘Just a habit, I guess.’

‘You do know you’re dabbling in something you don’t understand?’

‘I understand it a Hel of a lot better than you,’ she replied, indignant. ‘So if you don’t mind. . .’

‘You promised.’ She noticed a smile flicker across his mouth.

‘Did I? I don’t remember that. Besides, men don’t know what’s good for them.’ She felt the trace of a smile on her own lips.

‘And you do, I suppose?’

She looked up, fixing him with her gaze. ‘Yes. I do.’

He gave a low chuckle. ‘Hel – I’m glad someone does.’

‘Hold still.’ She bound the wound with the strip of linen, ignoring his yelp when she pulled it tight.

‘Now,’ she said. ‘Take down your breeches.’

‘What? I know you’re used to servants doing your bidding, but—’

‘Your leg – I must look at that too.’

He gave an ironic snort. ‘I think this oversteps my duty, Princess. I’m pretty sure your father would agree.’

‘Don’t be so coy. You must let me bind it. Unless you want to be limping for the next year?’

‘I already have a limp, as you’ve so graciously pointed out.’

She cursed inwardly. ‘Of course, I didn’t mean . . .’ What was it about this man that made her so clumsy with words? ‘Just let me bind it – for all our sakes. We need you strong. You flatter yourself that I care a barley crust for what you have under there.’

‘Steady on, my lady,’ piped up Kai. ‘You’ll hurt his feelings.’

‘You just keep to your damn cooking,’ growled Erlan.

‘Sure, sure,’ chuckled the boy.

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Lilla snapped. ‘The wound needs dressing.’

He let out a long sigh. ‘Very well.’ He got awkwardly to his feet, unhitched his belt, unlaced his breeches and dropped them.

The firelight spilled over his thighs. But she averted her eyes from the absurdity between his legs. She had always thought men unclothed not much better than comic. Erlan was no different. On the other hand, the play of light over his skin was pleasing enough. At least, she imagined a lot of girls might think so. But for her. . . that kind of thing only led to wounds that never healed. Right now, she was interested in dressing one that might.

She traced a finger the length of the cut on his thigh. He sucked sharply on his teeth. ‘Cold hands.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Cold night, come to that.’

‘He’s just making excuses, my lady,’ sniggered Kai.

‘This wound is strange too,’ she said, ignoring their childish talk. ‘It was also deep, but it’s showing signs of healing already.’

‘It hurts bad enough.’

‘I’m sure,’ she said, cutting short her curiosity. ‘You’re lucky, though. I’ve seen many wounds, but none so sure to heal.’

‘I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.’

‘I guess you will.’ She disliked the way he picked at everything she said like some scab. Suddenly she wanted to be done with this. She set about tending to the cut, and in a short while she was binding it with a woollen shawl from the bundle they’d brought for her.

‘That should see you most of the way to my father’s halls,’ she said, as he pulled up his breeches.

‘Much obliged.’ He chuckled. ‘I don’t suppose many could claim to have been serviced by the daughter of the king.’

‘Listen – you don’t know anything about me,’ she snapped. ‘So I’d appreciate it if you kept your stupid japes to yourself.’ She didn’t like his familiar tone. Liked even less the assumptions he made about her.

‘As you wish.’ He shrugged, and they both settled back on the furs in silence.

She supposed there would be some talk. Some answers to her questions. Like why, out of all his men, her father had chosen this unlikely pair to rescue her. How had they found her? How had the stranger slain that horrible fiend?

But she was too weary to ask now. The answers would keep. Instead, she gazed into the fire, drinking in its heat.

Fire is life. . .

She had often thought that on her terrible journey through the snow.

‘Something the matter, my lady?’ asked Kai, interrupting her thoughts.

She realized she was frowning. ‘Just the fire. . . Would’ve been good to have heat like this when they carried me to that horrible place.’

No one said anything for a few moments.

Erlan was first to break the silence. ‘What happened, Princess? I mean from the beginning. . .’

She stared even harder into the embers crackling and spitting in the fire’s depths. And then she told her story. Of an early morning that began like so many, of the sense she was not alone. Sounds in the snow, shadows skulking in the trees. Of the figures surrounding her, those strange, strong hands reaching for her, slipping round her throat. Of her waking to incessant motion, the pain shooting up her back. Of the hard poles they bound her to, the tight bonds sawing at her flesh.

‘They moved at a speed beyond anything you could imagine. They were relentless, hardly needing any rest.’ She had watched the branches and clouds and stars passing overhead, her body racked with aches and gnawing hunger. She told of the degradation of being force-fed forest carrion, the shame of relieving herself before her captors, the teetering brink of madness. The pendulum swing between delirium and determination – the songs she sang in her mind to keep it from shattering.

‘All the while, the cold burrowed into me. And when we came to the icefall and plunged into darkness. . . That’s when I made my last resolve. To remember the way down. The rest. . . the rest is best forgotten. I was dead.’ She nodded at Erlan. ‘Until I saw your face.’

A tear welled unbidden and fell in a silver stream down her cheek. She brushed it away hurriedly. The last thing she wanted was anyone’s pity, least of all the stranger’s.

‘My wounds are nothing to what you’ve suffered,’ he said. For some reason, the trace of tenderness in his voice annoyed her.

‘Well, my lady, here’s something better ’n carrion, I hope.’ Kai passed her a steaming bowl, and held out another to his master.

Erlan was about to take it when the boy pulled it out of reach. ‘Uh-uh!’ he chuckled.

‘What?’

‘It comes at a price.’

‘Well?’

‘I want to know what happened down there,’ whispered Kai. ‘And above anything else, what the Hel that weird rope thing you’re keeping so precious is all about.’

Erlan sighed. ‘I suppose that’s fair. Give it up then.’ Kai passed over the bowl and his master sank his fingers into the stew and scooped some into his mouth greedily. After a few more mouthfuls he began to talk. And talk. Lilla watched the boy hanging off every word like a dog begging scraps, his bright eyes wide. Many times he interrupted, straining every last detail from Erlan’s memory until the boy was satisfied he had it right.

‘Has anyone ever heard the like?’ cried Kai when Erlan had come to the end of his tale. ‘Hohoooah! And here you both are! Why, my skaldman friend would’ve given his thumbs to hear this. Oh, he’d make a fine song of it – wouldn’t he just!’

‘Song of it?’ Erlan grunted. ‘I’d rather forget all about it.’

‘Tsk! You would, master,’ the boy scolded. ‘That’s ’cause you’re a miserable son of a bitch at the best of times.’

Lilla couldn’t stop herself laughing at that.

Erlan just shook his head at them both.

‘Still,’ said Kai, leaning in all sly, ‘if we’re making a song of it, there ought to be a verse or two for me.’

‘You’ve more to tell?’ she asked.

‘Might be I do,’ he replied, with a wink. She found it impossible not to return his smile. ‘You haven’t noticed, have you?’ he said to Erlan.

‘What?’

‘The bird.’

Erlan looked about him. ‘Of course – I’d forgotten. Where is it?’

‘Dead,’ declared Kai, with a jut of his chin. ‘Two ravens came and did for him. I never saw the like.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It was like they were sent for it. Deliberate, you know.’ And then Kai told how the ravens had hunted down their winged friend.

Lilla still didn’t understand. ‘What was this bird to you?’

Her companions exchanged glances, apparently unsure how to answer. Eventually Erlan spoke. ‘It led us to you.’

‘A bird? How?’

He scratched at his tousled hair, searching for an explanation. ‘We came across it in the forest. It was a jay of sorts. . . It seemed to know which way to go. No, it did know – because it led us to the icefall.’ He shot Kai a look. ‘We came to think it wasn’t what it seemed.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Shape-shifting,’ he said.

Naturally, she knew of it. Her mother had sworn her never to do it, but she knew there were some who could. ‘Before we came to Sveäland,’ he continued, ‘we met a seidman deep in the Forest of Tyr. He told us he was a shape-shifter and knew the forests. His name was Grimnar.’ Erlan looked at Kai again. ‘The Witch King told me he was dead.’

‘You think the bird was this Grimnar?’ asked Lilla.

‘I couldn’t credit it myself,’ said Kai. ‘But like he said, it did lead us to you. And something else happened while you were down there.’ They listened as Kai told more. With peculiar relish, he recounted his fight with the wolf and the twisted deformity of its limbs once it was dead. The human hand. He pulled back his sleeve and revealed his swollen arm where the wolf bit him.

When he’d finished, Erlan gave a long whistle. ‘I’d say you’ve earned your verses, boy. More than that, even. How does Kai Wolf-Hand sound?’

‘Better than it feels,’ grinned the boy. But she could see how it pleased the boy to impress his master.

‘You did well,’ she agreed. ‘This Witch King has many servants who do his bidding.’

‘Had,’ corrected Erlan.

‘So you hope,’ she replied sharply. ‘But if they’re alive, even though he is dead. . . what evil might they yet do?’

Her question hung unanswered in the air. In the fire the wood snapped and popped.

‘Where did you come across this bird?’ asked Lilla at last.

‘Where the trail split into three. We had no way of knowing which would lead to you.’

Lilla suddenly felt a dreadful chill inside her, a memory lurching out of the shadows of her mind. Why had she not remembered earlier, when she had related her journey? She felt the blood leach from her cheeks.

‘My lady? My lady!’ Kai’s touch jolted her out of her nightmare. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I . . . don’t know why. . . I had forgotten till now. But it’s coming back to me.’ She looked up at them. ‘There were others.’

‘Others?’ echoed Erlan.

‘Yes. But different from the ones who took me from the Kingswood. Different from the creatures in the caves. They were larger. Fiercer. Fell creatures that could only have been spawned in the darkest caverns of Hel.’

‘The Watcher spoke of others called the Vandrung. The sirelings of the overlords. A mongrel race.’

‘I know nothing of that.’ Lilla screwed up her eyes, put her head in her hands. ‘My memory is not clear. It is more like trying to recall a dream. But there were some. . . some who stood much taller than you.’ She nodded at the stranger. ‘The smaller ones were cowed by them.’

‘You saw none like them below?’

‘I couldn’t say. The darkness obscured so much.’ Lilla shook her head. ‘But now I remember that when the company split, in spite of my fear, I felt relief. The smaller ones are full of malice. But those others – they were not human. Their very breath was evil.’

‘How many did they number?’ asked Erlan.

She shook her head again. ‘I can’t say for certain.’

‘Try!’ he urged, his voice rising. ‘You must remember more.’

‘I was in agony. Trying to keep my sanity.’ Her voice quavered.

‘How many?’ he barked.

‘I don’t know. Dozens, at least. Perhaps more.’

‘More than a hundred?’

‘I don’t know,’ she cried. She didn’t want to think of those horrible creatures any more.

‘Were there more than a hundred?’ he said again, seizing her arm.

‘No. . . I don’t think so. I don’t know. Leave me be!’ And she tore her arm free.

Wings fluttered in the treetops. All three of them started at the sound and looked about them. Suddenly, the darkness seemed full of menace.

‘So much for sealing that place with your sorcery and spells,’ grimaced Erlan.

‘What should we do, master?’ For the first time that night, the boy looked fearful.

‘Ride faster.’

‘I’m serious,’ returned Kai.

‘So am I!’ Erlan snarled. He got to his feet, went to the pile of gear and pulled out the Watcher’s tail. He flung his grisly trophy out to its full length. ‘Whatever evil these things possess, here’s the proof that it can be beaten. With sword and sinew.’

Lilla shuddered. The tail glistened black as tar in the flickering flames. ‘Why do you have to keep that thing?’ she said quickly.

‘What would you have me do with it?’

‘Burn it! A thing like that can bring nothing but ill from a place so dark.’

‘And yet it has power,’ he whispered, looking on it with wonder. ‘I saw it. So did you.’

‘The thing is ill-fated!’

‘No! It’s the proof that the Watcher and his foul kingdom can be destroyed.’

‘Why keep a memento of what you have destroyed? You’re no better than a child!’

‘I keep it not to remember what I destroyed. . . but what I won.’

‘And what was that?’ she said, her tone acid.

‘Life!’ he cried, looking up into the night. ‘A reason to live.’

His cry sailed off into the darkness. After a few moments, she murmured, ‘Are there not many?’

‘For some, maybe. But not for me.’ His eyes met hers, and in them she saw for the first time a deep, deep wound. ‘Not for me. . .’

It was a while before she spoke again. ‘I would bring nothing from that place. It is all accursed.’

She could see him wrestling the question in his mind as he gazed upon his trophy. ‘Very well – I won’t keep it.’ She let out a sigh of relief. ‘But I will at least keep something from it.’ He didn’t wait for her protests, but took out his knife, sat down on the fur and began skinning the smooth surface off the tail’s thick core.

There was no convincing him, she could see that much. But that only disturbed her all the more. Instead she and Kai watched him in silence.

The skin seemed strangely dry, peeling away in tough, supple strips. Erlan lay each one beside him until, in the gloom, they looked like so many dead serpents.

‘What are you making?’ asked Kai, at last.

‘A belt to remember this by.’

‘This?’ she said.

‘The life I won back. The fire can take the rest.’ So saying, he flung the monstrous tail into the flames.

It bucked and snapped like dry wood, tongues of fire flaring around it. And before long the blaze had devoured it all, leaving nothing but embers and ash.