by Melissa Haag
“A pity about the hose,” I said.
“I do not mind their destruction and thank you for your aide.”
“I meant that they were still on.”
I tossed him the tunic and bent for the remainder of the herbs.
“I’ll change the poultice and wrap it to keep it in place while we travel.”
When I turned back to him, he still held the tunic and watched me with a confused expression.
“It is all right if you need help. You will feel weak for several days yet.”
He shook his head at me, still wearing the same expression. I walked to him and set my hand against his cheek.
“No fever,” I said. “Good. You worried me. Turn.”
He slowly did as I asked, and I applied a fresh herbal paste to his wounds before binding them loosely.
“That should keep a fever away for a while longer,” I said, tucking the end of the last strip of cloth into place.
I tugged the tunic from his loose grasp then helped him into it. As I’d expected, he wasn’t able to lift his arms far without straining the stitches on his back. Once we had the material settled into place, a fine sheen of sweat coated his skin.
“Rest a moment. I will check outside.” I looked at Aud, and she nodded her head that she would stay with him.
“Wait,” he said when I stepped away. “It’s too dangerous for you to go alone.”
I smiled at his courtesy.
“I will be well and quick.”
I ducked outside and engaged my speed rune to check the surrounding area, then further out. There were no looters, as I’d hoped. I returned to find Giso braced against the center pole.
“Come,” I said, motioning to the flap.
Aud swooped to my shoulder and together we watched him move.
His steps were slow as he walked toward me. With each one, his brow furrowed deeper. I could imagine his pain. A single rune could start healing him. But if it wasn’t his destiny to be healed, using a rune on him could call the attention of the fates. Stitching him, an imperfect form of Mortal healing, had been safe enough. He could still die if that was his fate. The thought upset me as I watched his valiant progress toward me. Surely a man with so much courage had a far greater destiny than Hel’s hall.
He paused when he reached me, his breathing labored.
“There is no need to look at me with such worry,” he said, his face flushed.
I couldn’t heal him, but perhaps there was another way to help.
“May I ease your pain?”
He studied me for a moment.
“I thought you weren’t here to collect me.”
“I’m not. There is another way to ease your suffering. A mark. Painful for a moment. It will not heal you, but you will be able to walk with more ease.”
“If it will help me walk faster, then yes.”
“Not too fast. You don’t want to rip your stitches,” I said, pulling out my artavus. I quickly etched the rune into his skin and watched his frown fade.
“Better?”
He moved cautiously. Although the pain might be gone, the tug of the stitches remained to warn him not to push too hard, if he paid attention.
“Yes. I can feel the pull and know when to stop.”
He stilled and looked down at me, his expression a mix of curiosity and fascination. At first, I thought it was awe from what I could do with the artavus. But, he didn’t ask questions or look at the blade. Instead, his gaze held mine.
Slowly, he lifted his hand. His fingers gently stroked my cheek.
There were other Valkyrie who had found companionship with Mortal men. It didn’t happen often though. It was too hard for most to watch a loved one age and die, only to be taken to Hel’s hall. Still, I found myself leaning into Giso’s touch, wanting more than I had a right to want.
Something flickered in his gaze, and his thumb stroked my bottom lip. I’d barely had time to register the touch or the way it made my skin tingle before he released me and stepped outside.
My heart thundered in my chest as I stared at the tent flap. What had just happened? I wasn’t sure. It had felt…I shook my head. No. That was a dangerous path.
I took a settling breath and stepped outside. The air was cool on my heated face, and the sky was thankfully dark.
“That mark is a wondrous thing,” he said, reaching to look through the supplies. His movements were careful.
“It isn’t really. You could still hurt yourself.”
He straightened and smiled at me slightly.
“I’m not so foolish to think I’m healed. It is still wondrous.” He tilted his head slightly. “You can do many things with your small blade. Create openings to different places. Your home. The place you take the dead. Can you create an opening to anywhere?”
I glanced around nervously.
“We shouldn’t talk about this.”
He studied my face for a moment.
“It isn’t idle conversation. Will you help me once more, Thora? Will you help me find Otto?”
Five
“Will you create an opening to him? I need to ask him what happened and hear his answer from his own lips.”
“You are asking much,” I said. “He may have already died. These crusades do not end well for most.”
“If we cannot find him in this world, will you then take me to the next?”
“Giso…”
“Thora, he is the only family I have left. I hold onto the hope that he has an explanation for the evidence. That he left out of fear of accusation, not because he actually hurt them.”
“And if you find and hear that he did kill your wife and child?”
“Then I will walk away and accept whatever fate has in store for me, because I will know I have no family here.”
The need in his gaze, his silent plea, had me considering his request. It wouldn’t be hard to check the lists for his brother’s name to determine if he had already been reaped for Asgard. If his name wasn’t listed, which was likely if he did murder his brother’s family, I would need to ask a Grimnir for a favor. There was risk involving others. Mortals weren’t supposed to know about our world.
“If it is discovered that I helped you, there will be consequences.”
“I’ll accept whatever the consequence,” he said.
But would I?
“We should walk until you cannot,” I said. “Which direction?”
“I heard there are ships to the north. Most retreating soldiers would likely head east, north-east.”
“You believe your brother would go that route?”
“I do.”
“Then, that is the route we will take.”
“We will need supplies,” he said, once again looking at the pile the looters had made.
“No. The less we carry, the safer we will be. Anything we need, I will provide.”
He smiled slightly. “A true guardian angel. Lead and I will follow.”
Aud took flight, a silent shadow against a dark sky.
We wove our way through the tents. When we reached the outskirts, I asked him to hold still while I checked his bandages. They remained blood free so we continued on. The slight dips and hills made me feel as if we walked upon the ocean. Looking up at the night sky, I could almost believe it. The stars sparkled with a brightness that I only recalled while at sea.
“It is beautiful,” Giso said, staring at the pin-lit darkness with me.
“It is.”
“My mother once told me the night sky was the inside of a dark soul. Each act of kindness created a hole, which let a grain of sunlight through the night. It’s a reminder that no soul is too dark to save.”
The idea of it was naïve, yet it was the hope of being saved that had helped many a man.
“Is that why you want to talk to your brother?”
“Yes.”
We walked many miles before I encouraged him to stop and rest. It took him several attempts to lower himself to the sand. He groaned wh
en he finally sat.
“I think my leg is swelling,” he said.
“Most likely. What I did is allowing you to use it when you shouldn’t. I will return with something to drink,” I said, pulling out my artavus.
Aud cawed above. I looked up at her, willing her to stay with him. She landed on his bent knee.
Opening a portal to home, I warned him to stay sitting, then stepped through onto my rocky beach. The portal closed behind me as I hurried to my dwelling. Inside, the scent of mixed dried herbs comforted me. I started a fire and opened another portal back to the tent. Taking the empty bladder we’d left behind, I returned to rinse it well then created another portal to a fresh water stream not far from where I’d hunted the hare. As soon as I had the bladder filled, I opened a portal back to Giso.
“Here,” I said, offering him the water skin.
He drank deeply then handed it back to me.
“Can you walk further?” I asked.
“As far as I need to.”
I needed to help him to his feet this time. We continued our way north-east at a slower pace. It was less than an hour later that Giso suggested another break, and I knew we needed to be done traveling for the night.
“Wait here,” I said, once again leaving Aud with him.
I returned to the tent for two bedrolls then back to my home for some tea and dried meat. With our supplies under my arms, I created a portal back. Aud’s harsh caws reached my ears before I stepped through, invisibility runes engaged.
Three men surrounded Giso, who faced them on his feet. Blood dotted his back, and I knew he’d reopened his wound. He fought his attackers with a brave ferocity of a man with nothing to lose. Aud swooped and clawed at his attackers, creating bloody furrows on their exposed heads.
Dropping the supplies, I stepped into the fight and knocked one out with a single swing. Aud took out the second with a beak to the eye. The third, Giso brought to his knees with a kick to his soft parts.
I hurriedly picked up the dropped supplies, put them in Giso’s arms and created a portal without thought.
“Aud,” I called softly to the raven as she continued to harry her quarry.
“Come,” I said. I braced myself for the anger of the fates as I pulled Giso through the portal.
We stepped into the valley in southern Francia where I’d taken the new Immortals. The portal closed behind us and stars glittered on the surface of the lake.
What had I done? I looked around, expecting the fates to appear in the dark. They didn’t. The wind aggravated the water, the only sound other than Giso’s harsh breathing.
“Drop the supplies,” I said, quietly.
Giso released what he held and shivered slightly. Although the desert at night was cool, the valley was colder. His breath misted with each exhale. However, his lack of warmth concerned me less than what he may have done to himself.
“Hold still,” I said, gently lifting his tunic to look at the back of his leg. A few of the stitches had torn a bit, but it still held. Lifting the material further, I shamelessly appreciated his bare backside before forcing my attention upward. He’d reopened the middle portion of the gash on his lower back.
“It is fine,” he said.
“It is bleeding and will weaken you.”
“Heat a knife.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, though he couldn’t see me.
With stiff fingers, I released his tunic and stared at his strong shoulders. I knew cauterizing the wound would stop the bleeding and the rune would prevent him from feeling the pain, but I had little stomach for the task. Little stomach to bring suffering in any form. Yet, wasn’t I doing just that by denying him another form of help? Was it really fear of punishment that had kept me quiet as I’d watched sweat gather on his brow with each laborious step? Or fear of something else entirely?
He turned just then, and when his gaze met mine, I had my answer.
I was a lonely creature. It had only taken one look from this curious man to attract my attention, and one act of consideration to gain my interest. Although I well understood the fury of the fates, it wasn’t their wrath that had kept my artavus sheathed. No, I feared that healing him would force me to acknowledge the one thing that I was trying to deny. My growing affection and my unrealistic hope that he could stay.
If I healed him, he would be one step closer. But the fates were cruel when crossed. Healing him could bring their attention. And, although I didn’t fear what they could do to me, I feared what they would do to him. They would give me hope then take him just the same.
Would that pain be any different from what I struggled with now? A growing emptiness that had eaten me from the inside for decades. What good was I to Odin to ease the suffering of others when I could not ease my own?
There was only one thing to be done. One inevitable conclusion.
He lifted a hand to my cheek and gently held me.
“How can eyes so pure and pretty hold so much sorrow?” he asked softly.
“These eyes have seen much for which to be sorrowful.”
“And nothing of happiness?” he asked.
His thumb moved over my skin in a soft sweep. My heart started to race again.
“If I have, it is long forgotten,” I said, reaching up to place my hand over his.
“Thora!” a voice called from our right.
I turned, breaking the contact and dropping my hand. Fintan, one of the immortals I’d brought here, was walking toward us from the next rise.
“How are things here?” I asked, turning toward the approaching man.
“Well. I have a camp over the rise. Come. There is food to eat, a fire to warm yourselves, and a place to rest.”
Relief rushed through me. I might not need to heat a knife.
“Thank you.” I looked at Giso, who watched me. “Can you walk there?”
He nodded once and started forward. Each step required more effort than the last. I took his arm and looped it over my shoulder.
He smelled of dirt and sweat and blood, of battle and courage. My chest tightened as I breathed him in and helped him forward.
He leaned on me tiredly.
“After I rest, we’ll find Otto,” he said.
Six
As soon as we reached the camp, Giso released me and lay stomach down on Fintin’s bedroll. I followed and checked his wounds again.
“The bleeding has slowed. A knife might not be necessary. I’ll gather herbs to change the poultice.”
When I stood, Fintan joined me.
“Who is he?” he asked as we walked away.
“A friend.”
“A Mortal.”
“Yes. Will you watch over him while I’m gone?”
“I will.”
I opened a portal to the beach back home and raided my house for more herbs. When I returned, Fintan was sitting across the fire from Giso, who still slept.
“You weren’t long.”
“No. He needs tending.”
“Thora, what are you doing? You told us not to interfere with the fates. Is not healing him interference?”
“If I were to use runes, yes. But I am not. His destiny is still in the hands of the fates. I am doing what I have always done. Giving ease to the suffering.”
I finished changing the poultice and turned to Fintan.
“I must go to Asgard. Keep watch over him.”
I opened a portal and left. It took hours to search for men named Otto. I found many, but none with a brother Giso. I left Asgard and went to another battle field to find a Grimnir. Luck and fortune brought me to Rhys again.
“Thora,” he said in greeting.
“Rhys, I need to know if a certain soul has been brought to Hel.”
“Does this soul have a name?”
“Otto, brother of Giso.”
“Why are you looking for him?” he asked.
I’d known he wouldn’t make it easy for me.
“I am helping a friend. He is looking for his brother.�
��
“The dying man.”
I bent my head in acknowledgement.
“I cannot help you with this.”
“Rhys, you know I would not ask if it were not important.”
“You risk much. Why?”
“I cannot answer. Not because I choose not to but because I do not fully understand why myself. I care, Rhys.”
He studied me for a moment.
“In Briton, there is a woman who might help you. You will need something of the man you seek. She will find him, reaped or whole.”
After Rhys gave me detailed instructions on where to find her, he left and I returned to Giso.
The sun had lightened the sky, but Giso still slept. I made yarrow tea to ward off infection and sat beside Fintan at the fire and waited.
“Where did the others go?” I asked.
“Back toward Briton. I decided to stay here. The valley is beautiful.” He looked out at the mountains near and distant. “When you offered immortality, I did not consider what it would mean beyond not dying on those bloody dunes. I did not take into account that I would be forced to watch my family grow old and die while I remained young and unchanged. I did not ponder what I would do with my time.” He looked at me. “Now I do. Will there be no happiness in immortality?”
“The healing rune I taught you will keep you young. You can return to your family and choose not to use the rune to age with them,” I said, not answering his question.
He smiled widely.
Across from us, Giso stirred. I stood and brought the tea to him.
“Here. Drink.”
He lifted his head just enough to sip the tincture.
“I searched for Otto, but did not find him. However, I discovered the location of a woman who might be able to help you. Do you have anything of Otto’s? She needs something to find him.”
“Yes.” With slow deliberation, he lifted himself from the ground. It wasn’t only care for his wounds that tempered his moves. He winced and cringed, feeling pain. The rune was fading.
“Stop. There’s no need for you to travel with me.” I moved forward to help ease him back down, but he held up a hand to halt me.
