Thrall

by Barbara Ann Wright

  “Skellis first. The rest is shrouded in secrecy.”

  Aesa frowned and tried to picture the land in her mind. Gilka’s homeland of Skellis wasn’t far from the proving fields where the Thraindahl was held. Were they not leaving right away? Maeve would be pleased, but Aesa hated the idea of having to part from her again. Of course, the ship would make it there far before those who had to walk.

  “Do we go there to throw off our pursuers?” Aesa asked.

  “Patience, bear cub. You’ll get the raid you’re itching for soon enough.”

  Aesa curled her lip, fighting the urge to shift from foot to foot.

  Hilfey clapped her on the shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do with myself on my first raid either. You’re lucky being on the ocean doesn’t sour your stomach. Some new recruits spend the whole voyage hanging over the side.”

  Embarrassing in the extreme. “I just worry…”

  “Stay close to me; do as I do.”

  Aesa followed her, listening to her instructions on how to raise and lower the sail or how to steer the ship. Hilfey told her where the stores were kept and how to get into them without exposing all their food to the salty air.

  “Or ask Della to get something for you,” Hilfey said in Aesa’s ear. “She’s the pickiest about salt getting in her food.”

  Aesa looked to the warrior who minded the tiller in Gilka’s place. Not as old as Hilfey, she still had as many lines in her face, mostly around her downturned mouth, giving her a permanent pucker. Before her hard brown eyes swept the ship again, Aesa looked away.

  “We all have our strengths,” Hilfey said. “Sibba can find anything you misplace. Velka is good at reading the stars. She’s also our tracker. Don’t ask Otama for anything unless you never want to hear the end of it.”

  “Ship!” Della called.

  Aesa craned her neck with the others. They’d been surging up the coast, and Aesa thought they would make Skellis before midday, but now the striped sails of another ship approached from the west.

  Hilfey scowled at it, but before Aesa could ask, Hilfey tugged her toward the side and showed her which provisions no one was to open until they’d reached their destination. By the time Aesa got around to looking for the ship again, it had maneuvered close enough to throw ropes and tie together.

  Aesa’s jaw dropped at the sight of Ulfrecht stepping from his ship to theirs. She rested her hand on her belt knife, but he clapped shoulders with Gilka and said, “It’s as you thought. Once the other thrains were convinced we were enemies, two came to me and proposed an alliance against you.”

  “One follows us now,” Gilka said.

  “The other is probably not far behind. How is your girl?”

  Gilka nodded toward Aesa. “See for yourself.”

  Aesa tried not to snarl as Ulfrecht approached her. What trick was this?

  “I’m sorry about the broken rib,” he said, “but it had to look good.”

  “If it hadn’t been for my bondmate, I would have missed this voyage.”

  Gilka roared with laughter, and even Ulfrecht smiled. “There would have been other voyages, but you’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss this one either.”

  “So.” Aesa groped for words. “You and Einar…”

  Gilka stepped up behind him. “We didn’t plan your challenge, bear cub, if you’re thinking we have the power to see the future. But your feud did give us the perfect reason to fight.”

  “After Gilka told me of your challenge,” Ulfrecht said, “all it took was me picking young Einar for one of my crews and attacking you on the field. He’s a good enough archer. I might have chosen him anyway.”

  If he only picked Einar to use that in his plan with Gilka… Aesa’s stare shifted to her. Gilka’s head tilted, and that cruel little smile came out before it faded into something softer. She turned to Ulfrecht. “As we agreed?”

  “I’ll get in their way.” He pointed at the pursuing ship with his chin and then offered his arm. They locked wrists, muscles standing out. “And I’ll hear from you soon, or your bear cub won’t be the only one with broken ribs.”

  They laughed, actually laughed, as if it wasn’t someone’s life they were talking about. Aesa moved back as Ulfrecht stepped aboard his own ship and sailed away. The crew muttered as they went back to their places, and Aesa drifted toward the prow, staring into the sun-drenched waves until her eyes began to tear.

  “You’re where you wanted to be,” Hilfey said in her ear. “Don’t hold on to anything but that.”

  Aesa couldn’t get past the memory of Gilka witnessing her challenge with Einar. Even then, had Gilka’s appraising eye seen anything but her scheme with Ulfrecht? And there was the way Aesa had been chosen, welcomed among the crew before the ceremony. Was she special, or could Gilka not risk that she’d choose anyone else? Aesa felt along her ribs, fully healed by Maeve, but she could summon the memory of their ache.

  Gilka leaned against the rail. “I was going to choose you anyway, bear cub. I just thought of a way for you to serve before you knew it. That is what you wanted, yes?”

  “Yes, ja’thrain.” But she felt a crack in her heart.

  Gilka clapped her on the shoulder and moved away, calling out orders to her crew. Hilfey took her place again. “She has no cause to lie.”

  “This time.”

  Hilfey snorted a laugh. “If she didn’t want you, you wouldn’t be on this ship, just as Ulfrecht’s pawn is not on his personal ship. Or did you think she put you on her own crew out of guilt?”

  Aesa took a deep breath. Gilka didn’t seem the type to feel guilt easily. There had been affection in her gaze, but Aesa knew that if she pouted, that affection would quickly turn to contempt. “Show me what else I need to do.”

  *

  They turned away from Skellis and sailed northwest, passing the tip of their lands. Aesa glanced at the others to see confusion on all their faces. Were they going farther north, to the lands of the Bruna, cannibals who roamed the tundra? What did they have worth taking? The only lands west were a few islands with some shepherds and small villages. After that, it was a long voyage across the North Sea, and they’d need more supplies for that journey.

  “Where are we going?” Hilfey muttered at Aesa’s side.

  Runa turned from where she leaned against the mast. “Fernagher.”

  Everyone’s face wore the same bewilderment, and they all muttered together. Seated against the rail, Otama leaned her long, muscled arms across a barrel. She’d braided most of her ashy blond hair close to the scalp, and one braid circled around her crown like a jarl’s diadem. “Fernagher is a myth.”

  “No, it’s there,” Runa said. “Inside the Mists of Murin.”

  Hilfey’s mouth slipped open. “I had a cousin who tried to sail there.”

  Gilka barked a laugh as she leaned against the mast at Runa’s side. “We all know a tale of someone who entered the mists and was never heard of again.”

  Aesa shuddered but resisted warding off evil. Maeve knew many songs about the Mists of Murin, and none of them were happy. They stretched in a blob across the North Sea, far enough out of the way that they bothered no one except the Bruna. Many were the thrains who’d sailed all the way around them. Some had even dared to sail into their midst, but as Gilka said, none of those had ever come back.

  “No one could get through the mists until now,” Gilka said. “Runa has broken their magic.”

  Runa smiled, and it had a tinge that reminded Aesa of Gilka. No wonder they enjoyed each other’s company. She took a bag from her belt and spilled a handful of ordinary looking stones into her palm.

  Della, minding the tiller in Gilka’s place, leaned forward. “Pshaw. If those are magic, I’ve got a magic sword.”

  “And I’ve a magic arse,” Otama said.

  Runa frowned, but Gilka slipped an arm around her. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Unspoiled land.” Velka the Rat draped a lazy arm around Otama’s shoulders, her da
rk braids falling across both of them. She seemed small enough that Otama could throw her into the sea with one arm. “Just think of it.”

  Otama nudged her off. “Won’t be unspoiled for long with you around.” They all laughed, Velka loudest of all.

  Aesa pictured mountains of gold, hoarded by the citizens of Fernagher for untold centuries. Only the mists had kept it from being raided, given how close it was to the homeland. It made for a good story: the rulers of Fernagher had grown so tired of their neighbors that they’d shrouded their island with magic. Some said the Mists of Murin weren’t just a barrier but a portal, and that more lands waited on the other side. So many years living in safety would have made them weak, their piles of gold easy pickings.

  As night fell, Velka leaned next to Aesa on the deck, and they gazed at the stars. Velka pointed out the Cold Serpent and Flora the Hunter. She told of how Yvette’s Arrow always pointed north and how the White Wolf only showed himself in summer. Her voice was soothing, and Aesa left off paying attention to her words and just listened to the sound of them. The waves rocked the ship gently, and it wasn’t long before she huddled against the side and let her eyes slip shut. She drifted to sleep and dreamed of sacks full of gold, all given to her by the beautiful women of Fernagher.

  Otama nudged her awake at dawn. “You were drooling. Dreaming of your bondmate?”

  Velka snorted a laugh. Aesa just stretched to soothe her tired muscles. “How close are we?”

  Otama shrugged. “This isn’t my insane plan.”

  Everyone else spoke lively of the riches they would find on Fernagher’s shores. They sailed through the morning, excitement building until even Hilfey left off her instructions and just watched the north come closer.

  When the wall of mist came into view, Aesa thought that even mountains of gold might not be worth the risk.

  The Mists of Murin didn’t act like fog sitting lightly on the sea, wispy ends just touching the water. It sat above the waves like a wall of shifting gray, so solid they might bounce off of it. Gilka and Runa spoke softly together over their pile of rocks while everyone else manned the oars, keeping well away from the edge of the mist.

  Otama leaned close to Aesa’s ear. “I heard that a ship once sailed inside while another kept watch. The screams from within were so terrible, the blood of the watchers ran cold, and several died of fright.”

  Aesa shuddered and fought the urge to ward off evil, knowing Otama would laugh at her.

  “Shut up, Otama,” Hilfey said.

  “I’m just seeing if I can make the bear cub swim back the way we’ve come.”

  Aesa gave her a bored look, and she snorted a laugh.

  Velka turned in her seat. “One old warrior told me that a ship within the mists dissolved before his eyes, the skin and bones of all aboard melting like candle wax.”

  Hilfey leaned over and peered at Velka carefully. “Is that what’s happened to your cheek?”

  Velka swiped at her cheek, slick with salt spray. “But that’s just water.” She wiped it again, face going tight and panicked until Otama laughed loudly, and Velka glared at all of them. “That’s not funny.”

  “Quiet, all of you,” Della said.

  They settled into tense silence as they drifted closer.

  “Row ahead slowly,” Gilka said.

  Aesa obeyed with the rest, but she couldn’t help picturing the faces around her hissing, softening, dripping to a fast-dissolving deck. Runa held one of her magic rocks aloft beside the prow. Nothing happened, but Aesa kept rowing slowly. If Runa started melting, she’d switch directions as quickly as she could. By the strained faces around her, she wouldn’t be the only one.

  The prow was a bow shot from the mist, then a stone’s throw. Aesa paused, letting momentum carry the ship forward. A swell passed underneath them but died at the mist’s edge as if even the ocean feared it.

  Runa’s rock began to glow a soft greenish yellow. When the glow touched the mist, it parted like a curtain, and the prow slipped inside.

  When Runa threw the stone overboard, Aesa cried out, thinking them doomed, and she wasn’t the only one. The rock plunged into the ocean, but the light of it sank only slightly before it bobbed back to the top like an apple and spread its sickly glow across the water. The mist withdrew farther, making a large circle around the ship.

  They crept forward slowly. Again and again, Runa used her stones to push back more emptiness, allowing them to go forward. When she reached into her bag and pulled out the last stone, Aesa thought they’d sailed as far as they could, and still no Fernagher. They’d rowed into this awful place for nothing.

  “Land!”

  Aesa stood to see, they all did, until Gilka commanded them to get back to their oars. The mists had parted to reveal a sandy beach nearly glowing in sunlight ahead. They all breathed a sigh, and when Gilka commanded them to drop anchor, knots of a different kind started in Aesa’s belly.

  Her first raid with her first crew, warriors of great fame, and in a place no one had ever been before. Would they find gold? Monsters? More magic for Runa to defeat? She dropped into the cold water with the rest, her bow and arrows wrapped tightly in sealskin. Her feet barely touched the sea floor, and she held the sealskin pouch overhead as she waded toward land.

  The abandoned beach stretched long down one side, ending in a jagged jumble of rocks. The other edge curved around, the angle hiding what might lay in the distance. Aesa strung her bow and ran her fingers down the string, checking for wetness, but it had stayed dry in its pouch. The quiver she slung around her back.

  They helped one another into armor, those that chose to wear it. Hilfey unpacked a heavy leather shirt with small patches of mail near the neck, shoulders, and elbows. “Aesa, help me tie this tight across my ribs.”

  Aesa knelt to do the leather ties. Beside them, Otama laid her heavy spear on the ground while she tied on hard leather bracers and leg guards. Velka bounced lightly on her feet, swinging her twin axes before slipping them into rings hanging from her belt.

  “I can’t wait to stick something,” Otama said. “Eh, Hilfey? Does your sword thirst for blood as Unur does?”

  Hilfey snorted. “Only heroes’ weapons have names.”

  “They’ll sing about us one day, woman and spear acting as one, people quivering in awe when they see us.”

  “Quivering?” Hilfey gave Aesa a wink. “Is it your spear or your cock?”

  Velka fell over laughing.

  Aesa sputtered a chuckle, and Otama swung around to glare at her. “Are you laughing at me, bear cub?”

  Aesa tried to get her face under control. “No, I…I would never laugh at another woman’s cock.”

  Velka laughed even harder, rolling in the sand. Otama cracked a little smile, looking Aesa up and down.

  Della kicked sand at all of them. “You’re loud enough to reach the halls of the dead!”

  “Rat, make yourself useful,” Gilka called. When Velka glanced her way, she nodded toward the sandy hill. Still chuckling, Velka raced up the hill, staying low and quick like her namesake through the softly moving grass.

  Gilka set two warriors to guard the ship, and Aesa breathed a sigh that she wasn’t one of them. Velka made a sign from the top of the hill, and Gilka strode up the beach, her hammer hanging from its ring on her hip, and her wooden shield looped over her left arm. She’d left her arm rings behind and wore a leather shirt that hugged her body, the front covered in tightly knitted mail. She’d wrapped her thrain’s braid around itself and close to her head. It was hard to hold to doubt with a sight like her. Aesa had to fight to watch her surroundings instead of her thrain.

  Away from the shore, the sky shone blue. Behind them, along the line of mist, the murk was impenetrable except for the glowing green tunnel, a comforting sight. As they reached the top of the hill, Aesa let out a sigh that grew lost among many others.

  Green covered the land, a waving meadow of grass that led to a line of trees beyond. Fat bees hummed lazily over a f
ield of purple wildflowers, and the breeze that caressed them was as mild as any summer and smelled twice as sweet.

  “Rich land,” Hilfey said.

  “Look there.” Velka pointed into the distance at a thin plume of smoke. “People.”

  They glanced at one another and grinned. Where there were people, there was treasure. Gilka led the way across the field.

  *

  It was a long hike, but Aesa didn’t mind as she scanned the meadow and trees for targets. The forest was tall, and the ground mostly bare of undergrowth. Moss hung from the uppermost branches like banners or sails. Birds called, and insects buzzed around them.

  Up ahead, Velka signaled, and they readied weapons before they moved ahead slowly. Aesa took several deep breaths, and her heart pounded in her ears. At last, they’d found something, her first targets.

  A small group of huts sat in a sheltered clearing. With no fields or livestock, it seemed more of a camp than a village. It had no wall, no fortifications. An animal roasted on a spit in the center, tended by a figure in a gray robe. Gilka signaled to Aesa, and she lifted her bow, ready to shoot on Gilka’s command, her first kill. The thought made her want to cry out, make some kind of noise, but the warriors advanced without a sound.

  A slender, white-robed woman emerged from one of the huts, and Aesa swung in her direction, ready to loose before the woman could shout, but she broke into a wide grin as if she expected them. Aesa dipped the arrow toward the ground, looking to Gilka.

  Gilka slowed, locking eyes with the slender woman who kept her look of welcome. Aesa relaxed her arm but kept the arrow nocked. The slender woman approached with outstretched arms, not a mark or a blemish on the pale skin of her face. Even her loose hair shone like something otherworldly. She took a step toward Otama, and Aesa thought for a moment that they’d embrace like reunited friends.

  Otama shoved the slender woman hard, and even when she fell she made no sound. A mute? Other white-robed people came from among the huts, but instead of crying out, they hurried to the downed woman or stared about in confusion, speaking softly to one another.