by AJ Adams
I was fuming, but there was nothing more I could say. Rune was relaxed, perfectly happy and careful not to be smug, but he kept me away from everyone. He knew I’d cause trouble, and he was quarantining me.
After putting our firewood away, half in the shed and half in the log basket, he took me up the hill. We followed the stream to its source about a mile away, and then we went searching for mushrooms, ferns and nuts. By the time we had filled our baskets, it was late afternoon, we were deep in the forest and I was cold, hungry and tired.
Rune spotted it. “Come on, let’s go back.”
I was lost, but he turned and began walking, no hesitation. “There are no stars now. How do you know where to go?”
He thought about it. “We came this way. Just look at the trees.”
They all looked the same to me, but as we walked, we passed a patch of mushrooms I recognised. We were on our way back, but I had no idea how far we’d come.
Rune was mind-reading. “It’s not far.”
“You always say that.”
“After this bit, it’s downhill.”
“Why don’t you farm?” I asked him. “It’s much easier than walking for miles for every meal.”
“We don’t know how.”
That took me aback. “What? You must grow something!”
Rune shook his head. “Our old people knew, but I never saw a summer long enough for crops. We gathered what grew, mostly moss and grass.”
“Can you live on that and fish?”
“Sure! There’s always seaweed.”
That sounded as bad as chicken feed. I wondered how long the sacks of vegetables from King’s Cross would last. No more than a few weeks. “You grow carrots, onions and potatoes from their own roots,” I told Rune. “Tomatoes, cucumbers, peas and mushrooms come with their own seeds. All you need is soil and water.”
His gaze sharpened. “We’ve got an ocean of that.”
I was flabbergasted. He really hadn’t a clue. “Salt water kills crops. You need to use fresh. And in winter, you farm in sheds or in wooden boxes with glass tops to keep everything warm and frost free.”
“Tell me what you need and we’ll build it.”
I was looking at Rune, and I saw triumph in his eyes. This was big, I could see his excitement.
“Honey,” I said carefully, “comes from bees.”
“And wax, too,” he nodded. “We saw that. We watched the bees in the forest and we caught some, but we don’t know how to keep them in one place.” He was gazing into my eyes. “Do you know?”
“Yes.”
He hissed with delight. “I knew it!”
I was thinking of the way he’d talked at the auction. “It’s not just about little Beasts, is it? You want us for our skills! Mina, the baker’s daughter! Becky, the brewer’s daughter! You need us!”
Rune shrugged. “The Citizens have skills, but they haven’t a clue about farming.”
We walked back, with me thinking furiously. The Beasts were more than cut off from their people; they were adrift in a strange land. They didn’t know a thing about crops and livestock. They didn’t know much about milling or other food processes, either.
I did. Thanks to being the drudge on the farm, I could maintain livestock, including a queen bee and her hive, plant and reap, and in a pinch, mill flour and brew beer. Back in the Vale that made me a farmhand, but here it made me a goddess.
Now I could see my future.
Chapter Thirteen
“We share with Siv and Brant,” Rune was steering me towards a cabin by the sea. It was bigger than ours, or his, I should say, and when we got there, I saw there was a common room, with alcoves hidden behind curtains at opposite ends. Like the farmhouse, some of the Beasts lived together.
The second we walked in, Lizbeth and Tawny gave me a death glare and ducked behind one of the curtains. I gathered it was still my fault they’d not listened to me.
“We brought mushrooms,” Rune announced.
Siv produced a basket of fish. “Caught this morning.” He smelled of the sea, and I wondered if he’d dived for them or used a net like human people.
We all sat by the fire, on the floor as there wasn’t enough sofa space, and then Rune was picking up a mushroom. “Where are the seeds?” he asked me.
I removed the stem, tapped the cap, and showed him the black spores that fell onto my hand. “You plant these in damp soil and they grow in days.”
They were staring at me, their attention like knives.
“And carrots?” Rune asked.
“Cut off the top, put it in soil, and another one grows.”
Brant sucked in his breath. “Onions, they’re the same? That hairy bit re-grows?”
I nodded. “With potatoes, you cut off a bit with two eyes.”
A second later Siv produced a potato. “Show us.”
They got it instantly, deducing how tomatoes and peas worked too.
“And we just put this in the ground?” Rune asked.
“Not here. This is poor soil and the salt from the sea doesn’t help either. You need to go up the hill and make fields there.”
“We can dig,” he replied. “We start tomorrow.”
Talk about enthusiasm, right? I was a bit worried that he’d think growing crops was an overnight thing.
“You can’t just bury stuff and hope it grows,” I told them. “The earth needs to eat, too, so you put manure—horse, bird, whatever—into the soil. Fish guts will work, too. I’ll show you how it works.”
“The secret of bees?” Rune asked hoarsely.
“The queen, she’s big and fat, is the key. Put her in a box, and the others will stay and work around her.”
“Odin’s spear and balls,” Brant whispered. “Who would’ve guessed?”
Siv got up and produced a bottle. He filled up four cups. “Life!” he toasted, and they all tossed theirs back in one swallow.
Back in Caern I’d seen men go blind after drinking bathtub rotgut, so I sniffed at mine suspiciously. It was clear, but it smelled sharp. “Is this gin?”
The three Beasts grinned, those strange glittering blue eyes sparkling with fun for once.
“We call it Lifvatn, water of life,” Rune said, “but if you have too much, you’ll feel like you’re dying.”
“It’s good,” Brant assured me. “We drink it often.”
They had another round, and I nipped at mine. It tasted of herbs and salt. Actually, it was pretty good.
Lizbeth and Tawny appeared. “We’re off to visit Mina.” They waltzed off, still hating me.
The Beasts had a third, and I finished mine. Then we had another, and another. They were talking of summer crops, of clearing some nearby land and harvesting.
“We can live this winter,” Siv said thoughtfully. “Especially now we can hunt. But with the extra mouths, maybe we need to take a cart to Haven. They’ll barter vegetables for iron.”
“We need glass,” Rune said. “We need more sheds, too. Crops grow indoors, with light, warmth and fresh water.”
“Mushrooms on our doorstep,” Brant breathed.
“Never-ending greens!” Siv was excited. “We can trade pelts for glass, build plant shelters—”
“Greenhouses,” I interrupted.
“You know how?” Brant asked.
“Yes.” I’d worked in my uncle’s hothouses. “I can explain how they work.”
“Just think,” Rune sighed. “We can hunt, we’ll have crops, so we’ll have time to build a proper ship.”
“We’ll be free again,” Brant agreed.
By which I understood the Beasts felt incomplete without their ships.
They talked, drank, and as they were refilling my cup along with theirs, I suddenly realised my knees had gone liquid.
“How big do you want the sheds?” Rune asked.
“It dependsh on zhe glass.” My voice had blurred seconds before my brain followed suit. “Dish is strong schtuff.”
“Have another one.” Siv wa
s laughing, and clearly I was now totally forgiven for kicking him in the balls. “We don’t need to work the land or build sheds: we just put glass in the roof of a cart and fill it with soil.”
And to think we called the Beasts savages! I wouldn’t have thought of it in a million years. I sat and listened as they talked strategy, and with the long walk, the hot fire and the effects of all the excitement, I fell asleep. Okay, maybe the booze helped, too. I leaned against Rune, steadied by the warm bulk of muscle, and closed my eyes, just for a second.
I woke up with my head in Rune’s lap, his hands running over my hair. “She’s what we need,” he was crowing. “We have it all now.”
“Who would’ve thought it?” Brant said.
“It’s a bloody miracle we have her,” Rune was petting me, making me feel all warm and toasty.
“Make sure she stays healthy and safe,” Siv had done a complete u-turn. “We need her in good shape.”
Right, and that had me thinking. If I were a goddess of information, it meant I could bargain. If I decided to stay, they’d have to treat me with respect. It would be insurance, in case Rune changed his mind about wanting me. Knowledge would give me control, and control was freedom.
And if I didn’t like it here, I’d teach them what they needed to know, and then they’d be okay letting me go home. As payment for a job well done.
I’d go back, clear my name, get my land, and if the Beasts farmed, they could find women looking for homes. There were plenty of widows in Brighthelme and the other towns. It meant the girls had options, too.
I was rehearsing my pitch when Siv spoke. “Maybe you should chain her, Rune.”
My heart almost stopped beating.
“Right,” Brant was in favour, too. “She’s tried to run off before. We’d best make sure she stays. Chain her permanently.”
I wanted to scream. I was an idiot to think knowledge was power. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed woman was a slave, forced to be the eyes for the others for life. I should’ve kept my trap shut.
Rune’s hands were running over my shoulders. “Chain her?”
I heard the rattle in my mind, felt shackles bite, and I was up and screaming, “You bastards!”
They were gazing at me. Brant was surprised, his mouth wide open; Siv looked feral, all narrowed eyes, and Rune inscrutable.
“I’ll kill everything and make sure you all starve!” I was furious, and scared. “I’ll poison you all!”
“Not if we beat a girl for every problem you cause,” Siv said thoughtfully.
I was gobsmacked. “You can’t mean that. You couldn’t be so cruel!” But my stomach dropped into the ground with terror. I was talking to a Beast. He could. He would.
“Wynne,” Rune was calm. “Come on, sit down.”
But Brant was talking to Siv. “She doesn’t care for the others! They hate her!”
“She risked her life for Tawny,” Siv pointed out. “Spoke up at the auction, too.”
Oh, Wotan’s hairy arse. Would I fight, knowing the Citizens would pay for it? I was sweating at the thought. Visions of the whipping post came soaring into mind. After everything I’d been through, I was back where I started, a breath away from slavery.
If I died, nothing would matter. I looked at the fire and saw the poker: hard, hot and lethal. Maybe I should fight now, run and trust to fate.
“Tomorrow we’ll go and catch a queen bee,” Siv said. “How long does it take to get honey?”
“Shut up,” Rune snapped. “Wynne, it’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. I could see that Siv and Brant meant it. I was speechless, my head pounding from booze, rage and fear.
“Come on,” Siv was grinning, eyes crossing with drink. “Tell me. You know you have to.”
I shouldn’t wait. I’d messed up by trying to be clever. I should have stuck to essentials. Now was the time to run. And if I died, that would be okay. Better dead than chained and forced to obey or see others suffer for my actions.
Rune knew, I could see it in his eyes. “Don’t fight.” It was a whisper. “Quiet now, Ylva.” He was willing me to be meek.
It fuelled the rage in me, hyping the red hot wave of emotion. “Fuck you!” It felt good. “Fuck you all!”
Rune lunged for me, just as I was going for the poker. He missed. I had it in my hand, and now I’d whack them all.
“Watch out,” Siv warned. “Take her down!”
Rune was motioning him out the way. “No, don’t touch her.”
But this time the Beasts ignored him. There were hands grabbing mine, twisting the poker from me, pushing me down.
I knew I couldn’t win, but I’d run out of options, so I fought. I fought them like I’d fought the bear. I went wild, biting, kicking and clawing for my life. I got Siv on the nose, a flush hit, and someone grunted as I kicked. But drunk or not, they were too strong. The battle lasted seconds. I was held down, pinned, captured.
I couldn’t see, breathe or move. I was lost. Screaming in agony. My soul ripping away. I was pulled back by a hand in my hair, lips on my neck, musk surrounding me.
Then I heard his voice. “Wynne, open your eyes.”
I was drowning, awash in fear, gasping for breath. Rune was holding me, rubbing my hair and neck while gazing into my eyes. “No chains,” he said softly. “No chains, and no beatings. Do you hear me?”
He was bleeding. There were scratches on his face, and a nasty wound on his shoulder.
“This is a matter for Conclave,” someone said.
“That’s enough!” Rune was holding me tightly. “It’s the booze talking,” he said quietly. “Come on, Wynne. It’s getting late. Let’s go home.”
I couldn’t get it together. I was sick and scared, shaking uncontrollably as I got to my feet. Rune swept me up, radiating heat. He was talking, but I couldn’t hear him. I was cut off. Terrified.
The cabin was warm, a candle soon lit everything up, and the fire blazed when Rune added a log. “Ylva,” he was talking to me as if I were a child. “Let’s get these boots off.”
I don’t know if it was booze or exhaustion, but I fell into a waking dream where Rune picked me up and held me. “I’m here and nobody will hurt you, not ever again.”
The growl calmed me, just like the musky scent, and the muscled arms around me. “Sleep now.” There was a hand in my hair, petting me, and then I drifted off.
I woke up to bright sunshine and the steady murmur of voices. I was in the feather bed, tucked in tight, but no chains.
“I’m saying we can’t afford to take chances!” It sounded like Siv. “You know what she’s like!”
“I agree!”
“Me, too.”
“And me.”
“I say no,” Rune’s cool tones drifted through. “This is not the way.”
They were talking about me. For a moment exhaustion overwhelmed me. It was too much. I’d fought in the Vale, then the Beasts, and I’d lost every time. I’d had enough. I’d die. Just fade away.
“This is a matter for Conclave,” a Beast snarled.
“No. She’s mine and I decide!” Rune, standing up for me. “Siv, you’ve had it in for her since she put you down. Leave her alone, or it’ll be me booting you in the balls!”
His voice gave me courage again. I wasn’t alone after all.
“You take her side over mine?” Siv was outraged.
“Every time!”
I slid out of bed, and tugged on the leathers. Slopping about, practically breaking my neck over the long cuffs trailing on the floor, I peeked out between the curtains.
Rune was sitting on the doorstep, facing a knot of Beasts.
“She won’t help us unless we make her,” a Beast with red squid all over him was talking. “She needs to be controlled.”
“Turid, stop and think,” Rune said. “She told us about bees, crops, fields and mushrooms yesterday. With no prompting. All we did was ask.”
“That’s true,” Brant said. “She did.”
; “But she said she’d poison the earth!” Siv snapped.
“Because you threatened her,” Rune was on my side, and uncompromising. “She told us more about this place in five minutes than we’ve learned since we landed! And you thanked her by telling her she’d be a slave for life! Chained like an animal!”
“That’s not right. I don’t support that.” Whoever it was, I liked him.
“We can’t trust her. All Citizens are liars.” Turid again.
“She’s not a Citizen, and we’re not taking on their ways.” Rune, sounded angry. “There will be no whipping post here.”
“There will if Conclave says so!” Turid was yelling.
Rune stood up. “Yes, there will. And the day that happens, I leave.” Then he stepped back and slammed the door shut.
We stood there, staring at each other. For once Rune wasn’t his calm, detached self. His eyes were stormy, his fists clenched, and there was a muscle ticking in his jaw. Actually, he looked just as he had that night in Brighthelme, except this time he was raging on my behalf.
“Did you mean it?” I was shaking as I asked. “You’d leave? Because of me?”
“Am I a liar?” Rune growled. “Get dressed!”
The Beasts had moved to the common green, milling about in small groups, talking. They looked but didn’t try to stop us. No point really. Trying to fuck with Rune in a snit is like trying to cage a storm.
He loped up the mountain, me following at a run. It was a clear day with blue skies but it was cold. Pretty soon I didn’t notice because the uphill sprint was giving me a glow.
We came to a halt at the top of the river, looking out over the village. I fell on to the grass, panting, and Rune sank down beside me. We were far enough away for everyone to look like ants, but the fury of their activity was clear.
“They’re afraid,” he murmured. “We’ve lost too much, Wynne. They’re crazy with fear.”
I thought it over. I didn’t like it but I got it. They thought they might die if I didn’t stay, and after being on the edge of disaster for so long, they were freaked.
Rune’s arm came around my shoulders. “I meant what I said. I won’t let them hurt you.”
