Two

Mörsugur

The Bone Month

December

Even carrying two people, Vaskr could run faster than my crew could travel on foot. I was losing sensation in my lower leg. If it became infected, our journey to Brytten could be delayed by weeks. I held my arm out straight as I could, so Trgyve could follow the map and steer the pony.

Nausea made it hard to focus. Trees and farms whipped by in a green blur. Vaskr was breathing hard. His wind came in short puffs that looked like dragon smoke. I leaned into Trygve’s warm, solid body and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to vomit on my hero pony’s neck.

Aslaug met us at the city gate. The húskarl waited with their arms folded, talking to one of the sentries. Trygve pulled the pony to a halt in front of them. When they noticed my injured leg, their face went white. Then they peered hesitantly around Vaskr’s flank.

“Where is your crew?” they asked.

“If I say dead, will you be sorry?” I glared down at Aslaug. In the heat of the moment, when my survival had been in question, I hadn’t thought about their part in the jarl’s plan. But now that we were standing at the gate to her city with my leg a shredded mess of muscle and torn skin, anger bubbled up inside me. Aslaug had been training beside us for weeks. They knew my men and had helped them, taken food with them. How could they have let us walk into such an ambush?

“They’re not.” Aslaug rolled their eyes. But when I didn’t respond, their voice dropped to a whisper. “They’re not… are they?”

“No,” Trygve said, taking pity on them when I stayed silent. “Ragna was injured, so we galloped back as fast we could. The men will be here soon.”

“No thanks to you or your jarl.” I growled. “Please inform her that I will dine with her tonight, and that, sadly, I will require another shield.”

“Where is the mare?”

“Gone. I’ve decided this pony will do.”

“The cart pony?”

“Better the cart pony than that cowardly, useless mare. Where did you find her? Was she the reject of the market?”

Trygve nudged me. I knew I was being rude, but after our encounter with fenrir, I didn’t care. I clicked my tongue at Vaskr. The pony walked through the gate, toward the stable where he knew he’d find fresh hay. “And,” I called over my shoulder. “Send a healer to the guesthouse.”

“What was that?” Trgyve demanded when we had ridden out of the húskarl’s hearing. “Aslaug has given us far more help than we had any right to ask for. They have practiced with us every day, despite all the other work I’m sure the jarl has them doing.”

“They could have warned me.”

“They are Jarl Honor’s second in command. Their loyalty is to her. If you told me a plan in secret, do you think I would tell her?”

“That’s not the point,” I growled, but a flush crept up my neck.

By the time we reached the top of the hill, Vaskr was dragging his hooves. We’d travelled over six miles, much of it at full speed. He had more than earned a few days’ rest. I would make sure the stable boy brought him extra oats.

Trygve lifted me from the saddle. My leg swung limply over his arm, and I stifled a cry. He carried me into the guesthouse, nudged doors open with his broad shoulders, and laid me on the bed.

“You’ll have to cut off my trousers,” I said and gripped the headboard to steady myself. I was seeing spots again. “And bring the water. Clean the injury as best you can. I don’t know how long it will be before the healer arrives, if she comes at all. She left rather angry.”

Trygve ran his hand through his hair and muttered, “Wouldn’t it be better if a woman did that?”

“Do you see any women here?” I snapped. “Go on. It’s not as though this is the worst off you’ve seen me, and we both know I’ve never been interested in a man.”

He sat beside me on the bed and pulled out a small bronze dagger. Carefully, he cut away the fabric of my trousers, leaving my leg bare. I winced. The wound went straight to the bone, as I’d first thought. The muscle was gnawed away, but, though a tiny splinter of bone had broken off, the rest of it remained whole. I took a deep breath. If the healer could remove the shard, I might be back on a horse in a few short weeks.

Trygve dragged the water bucket across the room. He dabbed around the injury, cleaning away dirt, leaves, and dried blood.

I remembered the last time he had done this. His mother had pulled me from the sea, thirsty and wretched. I’d been at sea for a week, tossed by the waves in the tiny skiff Ersel and I managed to repair. Once I’d recovered my strength, I’d disguised myself as a merchant, peddling the trinkets Ersel had left in my little boat, and gone to Jarl Haakon’s fortress. It had been evening. The jarl had been at his supper. His guards had seen in me what they wanted to see: a petite girl with a fancy, ancient hunting horn to sell, no one of consequence, never a threat. They’d waved me in and stood outside the door while I stabbed their jarl in the chest over a dozen times.

But Haakon had been faster than I’d thought an old jarl with gout would be. When I had first come in, he had been asleep. But his sword had lain beside his feet and in his dying breath he’d severed my hand just above the wrist. I’d fled through the window at the rear of the longhouse and collapsed on Trygve’s doorstep again. He’d wanted to simply clean and bind the stump. The hook had been my choice.

“You should have trained as a healer,” I said. My knuckles were white. Blood loss was making me cold and numb. I could hardly feel the cloth on my skin. “You seem to be doing this often.”

Trygve sighed. “Yes, and I’d be happy to never do it again. But somehow, I think if I stay with you, I’ll be cleaning a lot of wounds.”

“You must not think very much of my fighting abilities.”

He laughed. “I think the world of your abilities, but you try to fight everyone, and no one can.” His expression sobered. “What will you say to the jarl tonight?”

“I’m not sure.” I scowled. “She knew those weren’t ordinary wolves. If she had said they were fenrir, I would have gone anyway. But why lie to us? Still, if she’s ready to sail next week, we need her.”

Yarra was waiting across the Northern Sea. Once I freed her, we could go anywhere. We could find Ersel, and the three of us could travel the seas together. The rest of my family was gone. Nothing tied me to Kjorseyrr. I’d told Honor that I would govern and send tribute. But if she couldn’t be trusted to tell me the truth, then why should I keep that promise?

The bedroom door burst open. Aslaug rushed into the room, leading the same ornery old healer who had refused to treat Ersel. Jarl Honor appeared in the doorway a moment later. She hovered on the threshold, forehead creased with worry. Her hands twitched at her sides as if she couldn’t decide where to place them.

The healer sat beside me and took the cloth from Trygve. She clucked her tongue. “Well, at least you haven’t brought me to see that damned Loki-spawned creature—”

I slapped her. The room went silent, and the healer clutched her cheek. Trygve covered his face with his sleeve, as if so embarrassed he couldn’t look at me. Aslaug’s hand went to their sword, but the jarl shook her head.

“Do not,” I ground out, “ever call her ‘a Loki-spawned creature’ again.”

“I cannot work under these conditions,” the healer whimpered. She turned to the jarl and gestured toward me. “How can you expect me to work on a violent patient? I was harassed the last time I came here as well, just for stating the obvious that human medicines might kill a… being of the ocean!”

Jarl Honor crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “You have worked on much less agreeable patients outside the alehouses. How much gold do you want?”

“I am afraid for my personal safety—”

“You are not,” said Aslaug. The húskarl stood behind the jarl and folded their arms as well. “The mermaid was a guest of the jarl. You had no right to speak that way about her, then or now.”

The healer’s chin jutted out, but she rummaged through her roll of supplies. She drew out a sachet of dried herbs and barked at Trygve to boil water. Even though I was furious with the jarl, I was glad of her presence. I didn’t think the old woman would dare poison me in front of her lord.

She brewed an herbal tea that smelled of ginger and pine. I drank it at her instruction. A numbing, intoxicating warmth spread from my throat all over my body. My limbs felt suddenly heavy, as if I’d drunk too much wine, but my mind remained sharp.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’ll need to stay in bed for a few days,” the healer said.

I nodded, then looked away as the she threaded a long, silver needle. The jarl finally moved from the doorway to sit on a chair beside me.

“You knew they weren’t wolves,” I accused.

“I knew you could handle them, and you did. Aslaug tells me your men are on their way now. No deaths.”

“That’s not the point. You chose to withhold information from me.”

“You will not always know what you are up against,” the jarl argued. “I wanted to see how your men would react when faced with unknown beasts, when victory wasn’t assured. Given your condition, I’d say they must have fought for you.”

“But you knew.” I winced as the healer’s needle punctured my skin. “You, as my ally, knew what you were sending us against and you lied.”

“Yes, I knew and I didn’t tell you because it suited my test, just as you knew the shapeshifter did not travel alone back to her people and chose not to tell me.”

I stiffened. Loki had visited at night, and we had traveled by magic from the field to the guesthouse. I didn’t think the god would have let themself be seen.

“I do not know what happened,” the jarl continued. “But the story you told Aslaug, about Ersel returning to her people? She was sick, Ragna, so sick she could hardly move. The healer told us she would die. People so ill they can’t stand up don’t just evaporate into the night, shapeshifter or not.”

“She returned home.” My words were a yelp, as the healer tugged on the thread.

“Maybe, but how? If you don’t want me to keep secrets from you, you cannot keep secrets from me.”

“A thegn saw you go to the practice field alone the night the mermaid vanished,” Aslaug cut in. “He said it looked as if you were praying. And then he heard you arguing with someone.”

I brandished my arm at them. The maps showed the mountain where the fenrir had attacked, now with a fresh inscription of runes. “I’m gods-blessed remember? It makes sense that I would be pious. Maybe I was addressing Heimdallr.”

“Enough,” interrupted Trygve. We all turned to my boatswain, who was shaking his head. “We can’t go in circles anymore. Neither of you has been fully honest. That’s probably prudent. But if we are going to sail together, we need to start working together.”

Aslaug and Honor exchanged glances.

“Are you finished with all your little tests?” I asked the jarl. “Have we passed?”

“Yes,” said Honor stiffly.

“Then I will be honest with you.”

“Leave us,” I said to the healer. After the way she’d treated Ersel and the revulsion she clearly had for anything touched by Loki, I didn’t want her listening to what I must say.

The healer cut the thread and packed her tools away. My skin was stretched over the wound, bound with uneven white threads. I shifted, and the stitches pulled. It reminded me of Loki’s lips, bound painfully for centuries. The god hadn’t told Ersel that I’d betrayed her. I didn’t know what Loki’s help meant, but I felt a bond with them now, a debt, even if I’d sworn no oath—assuming they had kept their word and Ersel was safe in the ocean.

The jarl already suspected that I’d had divine help with Ersel, but I didn’t know what Loki would do once we reached my home. They had already helped me once, receiving nothing in return. The Trickster might decide to let us slay Haakon’s men, only to have their creature devour us. Maybe I was wrong about their need of me. The god had waited centuries after all, and might think nothing of waiting until another child was born. But if Honor believed that Loki was already on our side, I was sure she would put aside any misgivings about sailing with us. I could almost feel the ocean wind rustling through my hair again. I needed her ships. The truth wouldn’t get them. I would tell her what she wanted to hear.

“I summoned Loki,” I said, once the healer had gone. “Ersel is the way she is… a shapeshifter… because of a deal she made with them. The healer didn’t know what to do. I thought they would be the only being who could help.”

“You summoned Loki?” Jarl Honor echoed. “Just like that, and they came?”

“We have an understanding,” I said. Some of the color drained from her cheeks, so I hastened to say, “An understanding. Not a bargain. I don’t believe that Loki will stop us from taking back my town.”

“And where did they bring Ersel? What did they do to her?” Aslaug asked.

I don’t know, whispered an insidious little voice in my head. “They brought her to the sea. Djalsfor is too far away from the coast for her. She’s a mermaid. Her body needs the ocean.”

“And you promised them nothing?” Jarl Honor raised a skeptical eyebrow. “It does not sound like the god’s nature.”

“You’re familiar with Loki? You have personal experience with their nature?” My tone was mocking, but I needed her to stop asking questions. The longer our exchange went on, the more likely it was that she would trap me in a lie.

Loki’s nature was changeable; capriciousness was the very fabric of their being. In every legend, that was a constant. The god could be cruel or kind, helpful or destructive. No one, perhaps not even Loki themself, knew why they blessed some and cursed others.

The jarl flushed and looked at her lap. “No, I suppose not.”

“My family’s story and Loki’s are entwined,” I said. “You know that they’re after the fragments of the dagger that can free their true voice. My family is both the solution to their problem and the origin. They will care for Ersel until we set sail, and then she will join us. Our plan will proceed as before.”

The jarl’s brown eyes searched my face. “I accept this.”

“So, we work together?”

Jarl Honor nodded her head. She extended her hand, and I grasped it.

“We will take six ships,” Honor said. “You and I will sail with a personal guard on my knarr so that we can plan our approach. Nominate one of your men to captain a smaller ship in your stead. I assume it will be Trygve? It is my gift, to replace the ship you lost.”

I smiled. Even though she had not told me about the fenrir, if she had planned in this much detail, she must have expected me to return.

The outer doors to the guesthouse opened. My crew trudged inside. They flung their armor and weapons across the floor before they noticed the jarl. Torstein led them into my room.

“Well,” he asked, a crooked smirk on his face. “Will you live?”

I studied him. He had proven himself and was not the man I’d imagined him to be when we first set sail together. Trygve had been with me the longest, and he was my shield-brother, but he couldn’t command a ship the way Torstein could.

“Yes. I will recover. The damage to my leg isn’t as bad as I first thought,” I said. “The jarl has given us a ship. You will captain it.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Me? But you just said you’d recover.”

“Yes. I will be sailing with the jarl to plan the landing of our entire fleet. Someone will need to watch over this lot.” I gestured at the other men clustered behind him in the doorway. “I hold you accountable for their conduct and for the safe arrival of our new ship onto Brytten shores. Do you accept this post, styrimaðr?”

Torstein took a hesitant step forward. He chewed his lip; his whole expression seemed wary, as if he half-expected me to lure him into a trap. After the way I’d acted toward him, I couldn’t blame him for his suspicion.

“If that is what you desire,” he said carefully. “I would be honored.”

“Excellent,” said Jarl Honor. “Aslaug will prepare for our departure.” She smiled at her húskarl. “They’ve been running errands and guarding me for too long. I know Aslaug is ready for a fight worthy of them.”

Redness crept from Aslaug’s neck to stain their pale cheeks. “It is an honor to serve you. I haven’t complained.”

“Of course not.” Honor hoisted herself up from my bed and turned to face my men. “Aslaug is a warrior without equal in my jarldom. They are perhaps wasted staying at my side, but I wouldn’t have them anywhere else. You have all proved yourselves today, in ridding us of the fenrir and saving your lord. You will make worthy allies.”

Honor walked to the doorway. My men parted for her, then knelt respectfully as she passed. I expected Aslaug to go with the jarl, but the húskarl remained in my room. They went to the window and stared out at the city below the hill.

“Leave and close the door,” I said to Torstein. “I need to rest.”

My men filed out. When the door shut again, Aslaug sat in the chair the jarl had vacated. They pointed to the stitches on my calf. “Falkra is rude, but she does good work. The jarl doesn’t keep her for her conversation. You should heal quickly.”

“I expect to.” I raised my hook. “And I’m not a stranger to fighting through pain.”

“I suppose not.” A grin twitched at the corner of their mouth. Then they rested their elbows on their knees, so our eyes were level. “I want you to know that I consider you and your crew my friends. I did not agree with Jarl Honor’s decision to lie to you about the fenrir, but she is my jarl and whatever her decisions are, I must obey them.”

“We’ll work together,” I said stiffly. “But don’t expect me to like her.”

Aslaug sighed. “I was born in Djalsfor. I’ve lived here all my life. But my grandfather was a traitor who ran from battle when he was called by Jarl Ulfric. My whole family might as well have worn a brand on our foreheads, the way his treachery marked us here. No one would trade with my father. No one would take my brother and I as apprentices. Even after my grandfather died, we still owed fines to the jarl for his crime. We could never raise the money to leave.”

They poured a glass of water from the pitcher on my nightstand and handed it to me. “When Jarl Honor took the throne, she gave us a chance. No tests, no conditions. I made the most of it. Where other jarls would have kept me away from their person, and refused to let me advance, Honor has helped me rise. I’m the grandchild of a traitor, but no one scorns me now. Honor has made me rich and respected. If I ever took a spouse, I know that my family would not bear the stain of my grandfather’s shame.”

“And your brother?” I asked. “Does he serve the jarl also?”

“My brother took bribes from Jarl Haakon and sold secrets to him. Honor knew of the dagger, and the unique ability of those marked as navigators to recover it, long before Haakon did. She is a well-educated woman, interested in the histories and ancient texts. My brother is the reason Haakon learned of you. He rots in the dungeon under the walls, never to see daylight again. I don’t petition for him. He was a liar and a coward. Because of him and so many others like him who would take advantage of her kind nature, the jarl has learned to be cautious. She tests now before she trusts.”

When I said nothing, Aslaug continued. “When I first heard of your arrival, through Inala, I felt duty-bound to help you because of my brother.”

“What he did wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” the húskarl mused. “But we are all bound by the debts of our family, are we not?”

Their eyes scanned me acutely and I looked away. After what Loki had told me about Sigrid, I did feel a sense of duty toward the god. They had helped my ancestor and had suffered for it. The Jarl had said a thegn overheard snippets of my conversation with Loki and had reported to Aslaug. How much had the húskarl relayed to Honor? How much had they kept to themself?

Aslaug rose and clapped my shoulder. I winced.

“The jarl shows great trust by granting you an alliance, navigator. I know there are things you keep private. Because of my brother’s role in what happened to your family, I do not bring these suspicions to the jarl’s attention. But betray her trust, and I’ll kill you myself.”

The conviction in their threat startled me. I wondered if there was more at stake for Aslaug than simply their duty to their jarl. I realized how often I had seen them together, how personal Aslaug’s interest in the jarl’s wellbeing seemed to be, how their eyes never strayed from her when she was present. They were Honor’s húskarl, but surely they could have delegated much of the work. There was no need for a steward of a great city to also function as a bodyguard, to carry things for her, or to personally assist her guests. Their brother rotted in prison, but I suspected another kind of love had taken the place of familial affection.

“You love her.”

“What?” Aslaug barked a high-pitched laugh. “Well, yes, of course I do. She is my jarl. My life is hers.”

“No. I mean you really love her. You want her to be your spouse.”

“She can’t be my wife, she’s a jarl. If she marries at all, it will be a noble or another jarl, who will rule here while she raises children. She’ll need political advantage.”

Aslaug looked down at their lap; their long lashes blinked rapidly. I might have destroyed my own chance at romance, but I never would have let protocol or politics stand in my way. I’d kissed a mermaid after all, upsetting the conventions of both our worlds. Aslaug would never use or betray Honor. They proved that every day. The jarl should feel lucky to have someone so devoted to her.

I swallowed hard. Ersel had proved her devotion time and time again, and now I might have lost her. She deserved someone who valued her. Whatever I might feel about Honor, she valued Aslaug.

Taking another sip of my water, I said, “She’s a ruler. A queen in her own right. She can have whomever she wants. She struggled and took her position. I’ve only known Jarl Honor for a brief time, but I can see that she has no plan to become a meek wife supporting a warlord husband.”

“No, I can’t see that either.” Aslaug laughed, and their blush deepened. “That’s part of what I like about her. And she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve been her thegn for nearly a decade.”

“Have you told her?”

“Of course not. I would never burden her with my feelings.”

“I thought you said your brother was the coward.”

Aslaug stiffened and gripped the arms of the chair. “I am not a coward. I respect her. I don’t want to impose myself or make things difficult for her.”

“If she doesn’t feel the same way, you never have to mention it again. But doesn’t not knowing hurt more?”

When I was ten, I had professed my undying love to a girl in our town. My hands full of flowers from the meadow, I’d knelt in front of Silea and declared myself her thegn. The memory made me cringe, even now. Silea had been gentle but firm with my heart. She had her eye on the butcher’s son. When my pride had recovered, we’d managed to stay friends. I’d found Astra soon after. Aslaug would respect Honor’s feelings, but that respect shouldn’t stop them from voicing their own—not when there was a chance.

The húskarl rose from the chair. They swept me an elegant, well-practiced bow. “I will take your words into consideration. Rest, navigator. You’ll need your strength.”