by Resa Nelson
Frayka pulled at her damp under-dress to keep it from sticking to her skin. Looking up at the brightly-lit leaves forming a ceiling above, she saw the storm had ended as quickly as it had begun. The day appeared to be clear and bright again. “But no Northlanders worshipped any but their own gods?”
“Precisely,” Njall said. After placing his clothes on the grass to dry, he paced around the large stone circle, wearing only a green linen shirt that hung to his knees. “Far as I can tell, no other gods have such requirements. Seems other gods have no worries about who does or doesn’t worship them. Northlanders knew their gods demanded loyalty. The Northlander gods credit themselves with creating all the realms in existence. They think they’re more important than any other gods.”
“But they tolerated people outside of the Northlands worshipping those other gods?”
Njall shrugged. “Who knows? I suspect they don’t care what anyone other than a Northlander does.” He gazed at the massive trees around the clearing that contained the stone circle. “Northlanders were farmers, mostly, while a few were traveling merchants who traded with villagers. Some Northlanders dabbled in things like making jewelry, but most villages were made up of a blacksmith, a thatcher, and farmers who worked the fields surrounding that village. Midlanders were different.”
“Different?” Frayka said. “How?”
“The wealthy had mansions and all sorts of servants, along with their own village of farmers to work the land owned by the wealthy. The port cities were full of fishermen and merchants looking to sell their wares to everyone arriving by ship. And then there were those who worshipped the ancient tree spirits and tended to them.”
“Tree spirits?”
“Ancient ones.”
When a breeze kicked up, Frayka extended her arms to each side at shoulder level to let the wind billow through her sleeves and bodice.
Njall continued. “The Midlanders who worshipped the ancient tree spirits tended to roam, always moving from one place to the next. They said every tree spirit had a connection to the gods, and the Midlanders traveled to make sure trees throughout their land were honored for those connections.”
“You said this is a temple.”
Njall nodded. “The most famous temple in all the Midlands. The temple of Limru.” He gestured at the majestic trees whose branches spread to form the canopy high above them. “Legend says people throughout the Midlands would journey here and leave offerings of gold and silver on these branches. The whole country revered this temple so much that not even the deadliest brigands would dare to think of stealing any offerings.”
Frayka snorted. “Because they loved the tree spirits so much?”
“Because they feared them. But that was just the criminals. Everyone else adored the tree spirits. And the Keepers of the temple lived here all the time. They kept the temple in proper order.” Njall paused and his voice softened. Gesturing toward the bone fragments and the white ashes inside the stone circle, he said, “That’s them right there. What’s left of them. All of the Keepers of the temple of Limru, down to the last one.”
Despite the warmth of the sunlight on her skin, Frayka shivered. “What happened?”
“Some madman tried to force a new religion on them. First thing he did was attack the temple of Limru. Killed all the Keepers, although it was rumored one escaped. A woman. Legend says that last Keeper joined forces with a Northlander, also a woman. They came here to find the temple in ruin: slaughtered Keepers hung up in the trees by their hair. All the gold and silver offerings to the tree spirits gone. The entire place in devastation.” Njall gave in to a sad smile. “But those women set the place right. Some say a merchant man helped them, but it was mostly the last Keeper and the Northlander’s doing. They cleaned up the temple and put the dead to rest. Helped their spirits move on.”
“Move on?” Frayka said. “Where?”
“Wherever it is that such Midlanders go.”
Frayka studied the large stone circle and its contents. “But this part of the world was destroyed soon after we were born. That’s more than 20 years ago. Why are the bones still there? Why didn’t animals carry them off? Why haven’t all the ashes scattered?”
“It’s sacred ground,” Njall said. “I imagine they put some kind of magic in place. Whenever Pa talks about this place, he does it with reverence. And you know Pa. He has reverence for nothing and no one.”
Frayka thought about how their fathers were once brigands who roamed throughout the Northlands, Midlands, and Southlands. She found it difficult to imagine what those men must have been like in their younger days but took Njall’s point. She’d never seen Rognvald display any kind of reverence.
Between the sunlight and the intermittent breeze, Frayka’s under-dress felt dry to the touch, although she knew the clothes on the ground might take a while longer before they would be ready to wear. She stepped out of the beam of light and joined Njall’s side. “I don’t think we’re here by accident.”
“Nor do I,” Njall said.
CHAPTER 9
Frayka and Njall checked the damp clothes left on the grass and flipped them over to help them dry faster.
“We helped a water goddess months ago,” Frayka said. “And we were brought to the temple of Limru by rogue ocean waves that dragged our ship through the forest. It’s obvious she must have made it happen.”
Njall looked at Frayka from the corner of his eye. “When I agreed that we’re not here by accident, that’s not what I was thinking.”
Shaking the creases out of her coat-dress before placing it back on the grass, Frayka gave her husband an abrupt look. “Whatever else could it be?”
“This place,” Njall said with a hushed voice. “I think it’s haunted.”
Frayka laughed. “That’s impossible! You said yourself that the markings on the bones showed that the spirits were set free. How can there be any ghosts here if all the spirits have left?”
Worry strained Njall’s face. Whispering, he said, “All I said was they were set free. That means they’re free to go wherever they want. Or they’re free to stay right here!”
High above, the canopy of leaves rustled, bright green from the sunlight shining behind them.
“See!” Njall said, jerking a thumb skyward. “They heard you!”
Frayka strained to look directly overhead.
The leaves rustled so violently that a shower of raindrops fell.
Njall shrieked, dodging the raindrops as they fell.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Frayka said, amused at her husband’s antics.
“Nothing to worry about!” Njall cried out. “The storm has stopped. The sun has come out. But we’re in the middle of a rainstorm!”
“It’s not a rainstorm.” Frayka pointed up at the canopy. “During the storm, rain collected on the leaves. Now the wind is blowing those raindrops free, and they’re falling. It has nothing to do with ghosts.”
Njall sidled up to her, still keeping his voice low. “Nothing to do with them? There’s no wind. We’ve felt nothing more than a slight breeze since we arrived. If it’s not ghosts shaking the leaves, then what is it?”
Frayka studied the canopy, rubbing the back of her neck from the strain of looking skyward.
The canopy shuddered even more aggressively, and Frayka caught a glimpse of a long bushy tail flitting across a thin branch.
“Squirrels,” Frayka said, pointing up. “They’re running along the branches. I think I see a tree mouse up there, too.”
“Ow!” Njall said. Rubbing the top of his head, he said, “And now they’re throwing things. What if we’ve stirred up ghosts, and those squirrels are angry at us?”
Frayka flinched as small objects hailed down on her. She knelt to examine them. Holding one up, she looked at Njall. “Nuts! The squirrels are trying to eat the nuts growing up there, but they’re falling instead.” She handed one to Njall.
Accepting it, he took a bite. Brightening, he said, “These are good.�
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“We lost all of our supplies in the storm,” Frayka said. “All we have left is an empty bucket. Let’s gather up as much food as we can.”
Working quickly, Frayka and Njall filled the pouches that hung from their belts with nuts that continued to fall from the canopy. Frayka wandered toward the tree line, searching for every last nut before the squirrels and tree mice could steal them away. The sight of a small and low circular stone wall covered with a wooden lid caught her attention. “Njall,” she called. “Get the bucket from the ship and bring it here.”
A short time later, Njall brought the bucket to her. “Did you find more food?”
“Better,” Frayka said, taking the bucket from him and placing it on the ground. “I think I found a well.”
“A what?”
“A well.” Frayka pointed at it. “Not everyone has a waterfall that brings fresh water to them. Some people have to get water out of the ground, remember?”
Njall picked the bucket up and held it close to his chest. “This can’t be good. It’s bad enough that we’re taking food from a sacred temple, but at least it grows on trees. We shouldn’t touch water permeating hallowed ground.”
“Nonsense,” Frayka said. She walked to the side of the well and took a firm grip on the wooden cover. After testing its weight, she said, “It’s heavy. I need your help.”
Njall stared at her in surprise. “Didn’t you hear me? What if everything in this temple belongs to the gods? Including that water? We’ll be punished!”
Frayka struggled to move the wooden lid, budging it slightly. “I would rather be punished by the gods than die of thirst.”
“We can get water from the river that brought us here.”
Frayka shook her head. “It’s seawater, remember? It’s the sea that diverted us here, not a true river.”
Njall stood fast, still clutching the empty bucket. “You’re right. It’s receding. When I fetched the bucket, I noticed the boat lying lower in the water. If the seawater that brought us here is running off the land and back into the sea, the river could vanish.”
“Then there’s no time to waste,” Frayka said. “Help me with this lid.”
Finally giving in, Njall helped her take the wooden cover off the well.
Cool, clean water brimmed just below the surface of the stone wall surrounding it. When Frayka lowered the bucket toward the water, it filled with ease.
Njall shuddered. “I know you’re right, but it makes my skin crawl. We don’t know what kind of magic could be in that water.”
Frayka smiled. “Or it might be nothing more than simple spring water.”
After replacing the wooden cover on the well, Frayka and Njall hastened to gather their damp clothes from the grass and carried them along with the bucket of water back to their small ship while it was still possible to sail away from the temple of Limru.
CHAPTER 10
For the next few days, Frayka and Njall sailed the sea between the Northlands and the Midlands until the sheer, rocky cliffs of a new land spread before them.
Frayka withdrew the leather map from her pouch so she could study it with Njall. She traced her finger between the lines that marked the sea where the Northlander and Midlander coasts opposed each other. “We sailed through here. That should be the Far East in front of us.” Frayka looked up and studied the distant shore, looking for the river shown on the map that would give them easy entrance. “Where’s the river?”
Njall looked from the map to the shore and back to the map again. He pointed at a spot slightly north of where a river was drawn. “I think we drifted up here. We should sail south and look for it.”
Nodding her agreement, Frayka joined Njall in adjusting the sail to change course. Gliding past the shore, Frayka stared at its peculiar formation. The cliffs looked like stone tree trunks soaring skyward. A thick mass of white clouds drifted between the stone trunks, making the cliffs look like a cursed forest bearing ghost leaves. The sound of a hollow howl made her shiver. Frayka couldn’t discern whether she heard the wind shrieking through the crags or an animal baying to protect its territory.
I’m here for a reason. I’m searching for the dragon gods who must make peace with the Northlander gods. My life and Njall’s life depend on it.
With the ship now speeding south at a good clip, Njall nudged Frayka and pointed at the Far East shore. “Look how beautiful it is!”
Black birds swooped around a cliff, its brown stone surface streaked with white droppings. The cries of demanding baby birds echoed among the rocks. Frayka wrinkled her nose, not sure whether she actually smelled a stench or imagined it. “It looks dangerous.”
“Frayka!” Njall said in astonishment. “What’s happened to your sense of adventure?”
The All-Father destroyed it when he set the task of resolving the gods’ differences on my shoulders. How can I take dangerous risks when I have such a weighty responsibility?
Not wanting to talk of it, Frayka shrugged off Njall’s question. “I’m tired. And hungry. And I could use a good night’s sleep in a real bed.”
Njall smiled and pointed south. “You’re bound to get one soon enough. I think that’s our river.”
A vertical gap cut through the cliffs, allowing room for a stream to run between them. Njall and Frayka steered the small ship onto that stream, and their vessel glided through the choppy waters of the open sea until it slid between the cliffs at its edge.
Frayka immediately noticed the drop in temperature. When out on the open sea, the bright sun had kept her skin warm. Here, the same sharp cliffs bordered the narrow stream, blocking out any direct sunlight. The slim canyon made the air feel cold and clammy.
Another howl sounded, this time drifting between the cliff walls like a phantom. The wind buffeted through the slender channel and rocked the ship from side to side until the air stilled. Then a steady ocean breeze allowed for smooth sailing and pushed them deeper into the interior.
Eventually, the sharp cliff faces gave way to soft hills, and the river widened enough so that several ships could travel next to each other. Frayka stared at two tall wooden towers standing on opposing banks. While the side facing the river was solid wood, the other walls of each tower were made of open latticework. “How odd,” Frayka said. “Anyone could climb up those towers. And I don’t see anyone. They’re not well guarded.”
“Maybe they don’t need guards here anymore,” Njall said.
When they rounded a bend in the stream, the sight of a tall stone wall blocking their path made Frayka sit up straight and take notice.
Made of square-cut blocks, the wall stood three times taller than a Northlander home. It cut through the landscape to the horizon, rising and falling over every hill. The only open space in the wall was the arch cut at the base to allow traffic to travel along the river that ran through.
Men on top of the wall shouted, pointing down at Frayka and Njall in their ship. Like Frayka, they had black silken hair and skin turned golden brown by the sun. One of the men shot an arrow that pierced the water several feet in front of the vessel.
Staying low to stay out of harm’s way, Njall and Frayka changed course once again, quickly retreating. But when they rounded the bend and found protection from the angry men on top of the wall, the Northlanders heard a thudding crack. Up ahead, the two wooden towers that stood on opposing banks had lowered on top of the water to form a blockade.
They aren’t towers. They’re two halves of a bridge.
But instead of allowing ships to pass beneath, the two halves now connected and prevented passage. Men armed with bows and arrows climbed out from hiding and clambered onto the bridge from each riverbank, shouting and waving for the ship to stop.
At the same time, men on each shore pulled small boats out from behind clusters of bushes and into the stream.
Within minutes they surrounded Frayka and Njall in their small ship.
CHAPTER 11
Although Frayka and Njall couldn’t understand
the language shouted at them by their captors, it was clear they’d landed in trouble.
Escorted through the tapered waterway carved at the base of the great wall, Frayka and Njall took in the new world on the other side of that wall. A massive city spread before them.
At its hilly outskirts, countless dirt avenues tangled together like knotted string, jammed with people of all ages. Small homes made of wooden slats and slanted thatched rooftops crowded the outermost avenues of the city.
But in the city itself, wide streets paved with stone sliced the city into sections that housed large buildings and lavish homes. Pink blossoms filled rows of squat trees along an avenue leading toward the city center, and the tangy perfume of those flowers drifted on the breeze.
At the center of the city, an elegant complex sprawled behind a stone wall low enough to allow all to gaze upon its splendor. Manicured gardens and tiny ponds surrounded a grand building made of golden walls. Only one story high, it sported many angular roof sections made of red clay tiles. A gold statue of a dragon perched among the roof tiles as if ready to pounce on intruders. Within each corner of the complex, an ornate stone tower anchored the wall. Guards peered out from the highest level.
It looks like a palace.
Hands tied behind their backs, Frayka and Njall let the Far Easterners herd them toward the spectacular complex ahead. All the while, the Far East men argued.
“What do you think they’re saying?” Njall whispered to Frayka.
“I don’t know. I never learned their language.”
One of their captors paused to glare at Frayka. He pointed an accusing finger and yelled at her.
Another man rolled his eyes and shook his head. The others followed as he continued his forward pace and pushed the Northlanders to walk in front while the people in the street diverted their paths around the group.
