Mörsugur
The Bone Month
December
Eight days later, we set sail across the Northern Sea. The jarl kept her word. She outfitted ten ships with fully trained warriors and handed an eleventh ship over to me. I’d been given a new sail, designed just for me: a black war-axe on a canvas of blue inked maps. It made me proud to watch my sigil billow in the sharp ocean wind.
The Sea Witch was a small, but beautifully made vessel. She was a snekke: a warship with no cargo hold and a draft so shallow she could be pulled directly onto the beach. Her decks were made of the same jewel-red wood as Honor’s longhouse. The stempost had been intricately carved to show a mermaid pressing a hunting horn to her lips. Her form was too slender and, despite the long, elegant tail winding down to the hull, she had no scales. She shouldn’t have reminded me so acutely of Ersel, when she looked nothing like the real mermaid I knew. But when I saw the horn at her lips, I blinked back tears and hurriedly bid Torstein a safe passage.
On the ride from Djalsfor to the coast, I had stupidly hoped that Ersel, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright with health, might be waiting for us at the harbor. Either she was bound to the Trickster or Loki had told her of my betrayal and she wanted nothing more to do with me. I wasn’t sure which fate was worse. I hated the idea of her being forced to carry out Loki’s wishes, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her choosing to abandon me either.
I joined Honor at the helm of her flagship. The huge knarr had a special throne built on the deck for the jarl to sit and watch the oncoming waves. I sat on the bench at her feet, but faced the oarsmen. Their hand resting on their sword hilt, Aslaug stood guard behind her. They dipped their head to me, but nothing about their posture betrayed the words that had passed between us. If Aslaug had confided their feelings to the jarl, neither of them gave any indication.
Shipbuilders on shore cut away the ropes binding the titan to the dock. The ship surged forward, driven by a powerful gust of wind.
I was going home, at the head of an army, having forged my own agreements with lords and gods alike. I should have been elated. I would avenge my family. I was going to see Yarra again. Instead, a heaviness settled inside me as the ship left the continent far behind. When we landed on Kjorseyrr’s coast, my family would not be waiting in our house. Uncle Bjorn wouldn’t tell me how proud he was. Mama wouldn’t get the chance to scold him for putting dreams of the sea in my head as a child. Lief wouldn’t run into my arms.
Ersel would not be waiting on the beach.
I left the bench and limped down the steps to the cargo hold. The jarl could manage the men on her ship without my interference. We were allies with a political bond, not friendship. The pony was my only true friend on board. Vaskr was stabled below deck in a narrow hold with two other horses: the jarl’s gray stallion and Aslaug’s mare. The stallion was squealing and trying to attract the mare’s attention. Vaskr stood between them, seeming oblivious as he munched hay from a trough.
His small brown ears pricked up when he heard me coming. Honor’s stallion reached into his trough to steal a mouthful of his hay. The jarl had offered to let me choose a new warhorse, but I had wanted a creature I trusted. The golden mare had not run back to her stable in Djalsfor. For all I knew, she could have been eaten by real wolves. I didn’t mourn her loss. My leg had been healing well, but it still wasn’t at full strength. Even though it would take another week to make the sea voyage, I didn’t want a difficult horse who would exhaust me before the battle even started.
I slipped into his stall beside him, then sank down into the straw at his feet. Vaskr dipped his head down and blew sweet breath into my face. When I’d first seen him in Halvag’s barn, I had dismissed him. Why was I always learning the value of things so late? I ran my hand down his cannon. He lifted his foot obediently, holding it up for me. I traced the metal shoe with my finger.
I missed Ersel. Now that I was back at sea, her absence left an ache. Since the day she’d come aboard my ship, I’d treated her like a weapon, an object to scare my men into submission. Our time together was full of stolen moments spent hiding below deck from the crew. Even then, I’d used her as a respite, so wrapped up in my own thoughts of revenge that I’d never even asked her if she missed her home. Coming on land for the first time should have been wondrous for her. It was a culmination of a dream she’d treasured since childhood. Had I ruined it? Had I really betrayed her out of love for Yarra? Or had everything, since the very beginning, been all about my revenge?
The pony slowly lowered his hoof. He nuzzled my hair. I took hold of his halter and pulled his face to my chest. I hugged his soft muzzle, and his warmth brought tears. I sobbed until my throat was raw and my stomach cramped. Vaskr stood still and let me hold him.
* * *
I stayed with Vaskr until I heard barrels being rolled across the deck. To keep the ale and water we had with us fresh, the crew would only open a few barrels at a time. If I missed this chance to drink, I’d have to wait until the next opening. I patted the pony’s neck and then went to find the jarl.
Honor’s sailors had fashioned a makeshift table for their jarl by pushing benches together and covering them with a white cloth. The table had been spread for three, with bread, strips of beef, and apples. At sea, most foods could be eaten without a knife or plate.
Honor held a clay bowl filled with strawberries in her lap. She balanced a goblet filled with what looked like wine in her brown hand. Aslaug sat on the bench at her feet holding a serving plate of dried meats. The húskarl didn’t eat. Aslaug’s pale skin had taken on a greenish hue, and they had purple rings around their eyes. I wondered when they had last sailed. The waves did not seem to agree with them.
Honor passed the bowl of berries to me. “We try to eat well on our voyages. We’ll eat the fruit in the first days before it spoils. The styrimaðr says berries help us conserve water.”
I took a handful of the strawberries. They were filled with juice and stained my palm red. “I can see that. When I last sailed, we only had salt fish, pork, and bread. I wasn’t sure how long we’d be at sea, and our ship wasn’t large enough to carry excess. When we lost a few of the water barrels, it was a disaster.”
Aslaug pointed up to the knarr’s enormous sail. “Have you ever been on a ship so large?” They sighed and clutched their stomach. “I’m finding the motion on this larger vessel does not agree with me. It is less bouncy than a drekkar, but the constant slow sway…”
Their voice trailed off and they ran to the ship’s rail, leaving Honor and me to devour the rest of the food.
“We will need to decide where to land,” Honor said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “We have enough warriors, I think, to storm the town head-on and win. But I don’t want to waste lives if we can help it.”
I nodded and peeled back the sleeve of my tunic. The jarl bent down for a closer look. The ink had darkened, almost to black. The markings had never changed color before. Our route to land extended from my forearm up my bicep. The waves surrounding our ship were oddly still. It was as if my desire to go home was so strong that the markings had become unchangeable, as if the magic were unwilling to show any other place until I achieved my aim.
Honor tapped a natural harbor shielded by a rocky mountain with her finger. It was a perfect location for our landing. She opened her mouth to speak, but then raised her head and beckoned Aslaug. The húskarl stumbled over on shaky legs. Their cheeks still looked green, but their eyes had come alive at being summoned, at being needed. They knelt beside me. The jarl pointed to the map on my skin again, then guided Aslaug’s hand to the stretch of beach just above the obvious harbor.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes as the jarl said, “We haven’t decided where to land. What do you think about here?”
Aslaug bit back a smile. They traced lower, to the cove. Their fingers brushed Honor’s again. “What about there? It would give us more shelter and, if we disembarked at the right time, the mountain would hide us from view.”
I pulled my arm back against my chest, no longer willing to function as a living game board for their flirtations. Aslaug must have told Honor about their feelings after all. From the look of things, they were reciprocated. At least some of us would be happy—if we survived the battle ahead.
“I’ll inform the styrimaðr,” Aslaug said. They rose to their feet and motioned to me. “You should come too, so we can show him. Is there anything else you need, my lady? I can fetch it for you?”
Honor raised her wine goblet to us. “I’m satisfied to watch the waves.”
“You told her,” I said as soon as we were out of the jarl’s earshot.
Aslaug’s cheeks colored. “Yes.”
“And?” I made a beckoning motion with my hand. “It seems to be going well?”
“We decided to discuss it further after the battle,” said Aslaug, but their wide smile betrayed them. “We will have more warriors, but with Loki’s creature in the battle, we don’t know what the outcome will be. The jarl will be heavily guarded at all times. But if I don’t survive, I don’t want her to think she owes me anything.”
Shaking my head, I followed them to the rowing benches. The knarr’s styrimaðr stood before the rest of the crew, barking orders at them. He was tall and lanky, boyish still, despite his age. Eirik was an experienced seaman who had been captaining Djalsfor ships longer than I’d been alive. My markings intrigued him, but he didn’t trust magic alone to guide his ship. Everything I said had to be carefully verified on the vellum maps stretched out on a wide table below deck. Even then, he preferred to chart his own course where possible.
I presented my arm to him. Eirik studied the harbor, measured the distance to the town with his fingers, then grunted his approval. “Seems as good a place as any. But will it be deep enough for the knarr? I don’t want to run her aground.”
“At this time of year, it should be,” I said.
“I’ll confirm the location and send rowers to the other captains.”
The knarr had two small skiffs suspended on ropes along its hull. They allowed Eirik to communicate quickly with the other ships in the jarl’s fleet. All the other captains took their orders directly from Eirik. As soon as they saw the skiff in the water, they dropped their anchors.
“What should I do?” After only a day at sea, I was already growing bored. When I had captained my own ship, every moment had been an adventure. My status as the jarl’s ally granted me a reprieve from the oars, but I had no crew to command. There was nothing to worry about, and after months spent constantly on edge, the lull made me even more anxious.
Aslaug wrapped their arm around my shoulders. “You rest your leg, practice with your weapons, and help me keep the jarl entertained. Her temper sours if she sits in a chair too long.”
I laughed, pleased by the gesture of comradery. Aslaug would always be loyal to Jarl Honor first, but I valued our friendship.
Eirik moved to signal the messengers, but I held up my hand. “Wait. I want to add a note to Torstein’s missive.”
“Commands for your crew?” Aslaug asked. “Do you think Torstein has undermined you already? Surely, he wouldn’t be so stupid.”
“No.” I called over my shoulder as I trotted toward the messenger. “I just want to tell him to keep his eye out for blue scales.”