Edgelanders (Serpent of Time)

by Jennifer Melzer

  Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

  “For me, Lorelei. Breathe for me.”

  Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

  A great, gasping exhale tore the soul of God from her body, and through weak, fluttering eyelids she saw the golden spirals of forever circling toward the shadowy, wooden beams of the ceiling. Heavy hands crushed and clutched at her, thick arms closing so tight around her and as she clung to him, she watched over Finn’s broad shoulder as the last wisp of Llorveth’s essence disappeared through opening in the roof above the hearth and dispersed itself among the stars.

  “I’ve got you,” Finn whispered into her hair. “You’re all right now, I’ve got you.”

  Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

  A great, gasping exhale tore the soul of God from her body, and through weak, fluttering eyelids she saw the golden spirals of forever circling toward the shadowy, wooden beams of the ceiling. Heavy hands crushed and clutched at her, thick arms closing so tight around her and as she clung to him, she watched over Finn’s broad shoulder as the last wisp of Llorveth’s essence disappeared through opening in the roof above the hearth and dispersed itself among the stars.

  “I’ve got you,” Finn whispered into her hair. “You’re all right now, I’ve got you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  For several minutes after that grand display, no one in the room dared to speak. It was as if their voices had escaped with Llorveth’s spirit through the hearth vent between the wooden beams. Not even the chancellor could find words for what he’d seen. Vilnjar just stood with his mouth agape, his prior disbelief a muddle of confused thoughts inside his scattered mind. He knew what he’d just witnessed, but try as he might to wrap his head around it, he just couldn’t.

  Llorveth. There in their hall. After years of silence their god had finally spoken and the longstanding doubts Vilnjar struggled with during that absence had simply washed away. He understood Rhiorna’s words to him, her insistence that when all was said and done he would follow that girl to the ends of the earth if that was where she must go.

  Cobin took first action, his mouth trembling for several minutes over unspoken words, lips gaping like a fish dying on the shore. Not even he could have seen that coming, prepared for it in any way, but his reaction would temper the reactions of everyone else in the hall. They were no longer wolves, Vilnjar thought. They were sheep. Every last one of them.

  Vilnjar had gone to him before the proceedings, after his conversation with Rue, but once the chancellor received him, he’d changed his mind about confessing the things Rhiorna said to him. He did not tell Cobin that Lorelei was Rognar’s daughter. Instead he’d only asked that he and the council listen to reason, give Finn and Rhiorna a chance to explain before casting them out unfairly. Cobin refused to listen to reason, and Vilnjar resigned himself to the inevitable outcome he’d already warned his sister about.

  Finn would be exiled, the girl too, and though he hated the idea of tearing their family apart, he knew Ruwena could take care of herself. Finn, on the other hand… he couldn’t just leave his little brother to his own devices, not in the cruel tundra to the south. If it was the council’s decision to exile him, even after the impressive display they’d just witnessed, Vilnjar would follow.

  For a few moments he watched Cobin, tried to understand what was going through the chancellor’s mind. There was more at work than a seer’s sorcery, but had it really been a god among them? Even if it had been Llorveth, Vilnjar had a feeling Cobin would not give in so easily.

  Shaking off the trance of shock, Viln was the first to move, breaking through the rising crowd until he came to the judgment chamber and knelt behind his brother to make sure the girl was okay. Lorelei clung to Finn, sobbing and muttering jumbled strings of words that didn’t make sense while Finn comforted her the best he could. She was so tiny in his arms, like a child clinging for dear life, and though the entire world around them seemed to be in absolute disarray, the only thing Finn seemed to care about was calming and protecting her.

  His mate.

  Rue stood over both of them in a familiar protective stance, at the ready to defend her baby brother as always. Her eyes were so wide they looked as if they might pop out of her face.

  “What was that, Viln?” When he didn’t answer she slapped her hand against his shoulder to snap him out of his silence. “Vilnjar, what just happened?”

  The sound of his name on Rue’s lips drew him out of that mesmerizing realization and he shook his head. “A miracle?” he asked.

  “A miracle?” Rue repeated, turning her head downward to marvel at the young girl below her on the floor. “Yeah,” there was more disbelief than wonder in her skeptical tone, “right. A miracle.”

  “Stay with them,” he ordered, rising from where he knelt and scanning the hall until his gaze rested on Rhiorna.

  She lay lifeless in the center of the aisle just feet from the council table, the guards who’d touched her while the god had been inside her still writhed in pain on the floor near her body. Vilnjar hiked down the stairs and rushed across the floor to where her spent, crumpled body had fallen. His action was all it took to awaken the dazed crowd and within seconds of hunkering down over her, bodies pushed in behind him, their astonished whispers rising into a panic of distress.

  “Is the seer all right?”

  “What happened just now?”

  “Was it really Llorveth?”

  Blocking out the bombardment of questions, Vilnjar shook her lifeless body. “Rhiorna?” He lowered his hand to the side of her neck, fingers searching for the pulse of life beneath the skin, but there was no life in her.

  “She’s…” Shaking his head in disbelief, he looked up just as Edla knelt across from him and pushed his hand out of the way. While she followed the same path his fingers had, he studied Rhiorna’s face. Peaceful. She looked so peaceful. A faint, but triumphant smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

  Edla finally lifted her gaze to meet with his and shook her head. “She’s dead.”

  Rhiorna knew all along that it was going to end that way, and Viln let himself resent her in silence for a moment. Nothing like throwing them into the eye of a storm and then fleeing the scene with all the answers. But then why should he be surprised? Hadn’t she abandoned the council once already, withdrawing inside herself and shutting out the world while their people floundered and struggled to survive?

  The chancellor allowed the panic of the crowd to build far longer than he should have, and just when it felt like the great hall itself would burst with speculation and despair, Cobin rang the bell again to silence them. At first it didn’t work, men and women alike began to surge forward, crying out that they wanted answers. It wasn’t until the chancellor began to speak that their cries became whispers and eventually silence.

  “Let the record show that everyone in attendance witnessed that vile display of black sorcery at work here this night.” Cobin’s voice rose above the commotion, a hundred pairs of frightened eyes lifting toward him for guidance and reassurance as the voices quieted to hear him speak. “For ten years Rhiorna manipulated us with lies of blindness, when all the while she could see, and in that time she silently plotted and planned, contriving a masterful scheme of deception to fool us all.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “But I saw Llorveth.”

  “We all saw him rise up out of her body and…”

  “You saw what the witch wanted you all to see, an illusion. Any sorceress could easily contrive such an illusion. She would have had us turn our back on progress, to walk backward into the darkness where we allowed ourselves to be governed by the impulsive, bloodthirsty monsters that live within us. And this girl,” Cobin held his hand out toward the judgment chamber where Finn still cradled Lorelei close to his chest, “this wretched sorceress who has been brought into the safe confines of our sanctuary by the son of Deken and Eornlaith was party to Rhiorna’s plot all along.”

 
; Rhiorna’s words rushed to the forefront of Vilnjar’s mind. You must choose. Say that you will stand beside the savior of our race while the others fall beneath her wrath when she rises to do the bidding of our god.

  “Don’t listen to him.” Vilnjar started to rise, his knees buckling and trembling against the stand he was about to take. You must choose. “This girl is no more a sorceress than any of you. She is an innocent.”

  “No outsider who violates the sanctuary of our land is innocent,” Cobin roared.

  “She was chased onto our land, probably didn’t even know it was our land at the time.”

  “She doesn’t belong here…”

  “She has just as much right to be here as any of us,” Finn spoke up. When Vilnjar turned to look at his brother, he saw both he and Lorelei had risen and she stood within the protective curve of his long arm.

  “The voice of madness speaks. Perhaps you, Finn the Reckless, can shed light on your own part in this scheme, since you were the one who endangered us all by bringing her to our sanctuary.”

  “Sanctuary,” Vilnjar surprised himself with those words. “The Edgelands are no sanctuary. They are a prison. I know it, you know. We were imprisoned here after the War of Silence…”

  “I see you were part of the witch’s scheme as well.”

  “There was no scheme.” Finn interjected. “It happened as my brother said. Lorelei was chased onto our land, and I found her without the guidance of sorcery. She was hurt, scared. I couldn’t leave her.”

  “No, I expect you couldn’t. You never could leave well enough alone, Mad Finn the Reckless, and now your impetuous nature will be our undoing. Both the outsider and the one who brought her will be cast out by order of the Council of the Nine. All those in favor, say aye.” One by the one, the seven council members sitting at Cobin’s sides responded in favor to his sentence, though a few of them hesitated before committing to their decision.

  “Perhaps you weren’t listening when Rhiorna spoke. She may have come from beyond our boundaries, but she is no outsider.” Turning to face the terrified mob of faces at his back, Vilnjar pointed toward his brother and Lorelei. “The girl is one of ours. She is the daughter of Rognar the Conqueror, blood-kin to Rhiorna, his sister.”

  “If this claim is true, then she is even more dangerous to us than any of you could possibly dream. Her father’s blood is her curse, and that curse is all the more reason for us to cast her out.”

  “You heard what Llorveth said, Cobin. He…”

  “I heard what the witch wanted me to hear, what she wanted all of us to hear. Lies! She would deceive us all. For the safety of our people, the stranger must be cast out. An escort has already been assembled to see the outsider and Mad Finn the Reckless to the southern border, where they will be exiled to Rimian.”

  “You had no intention of giving them a fair hearing. You planned to cast them out regardless of what they had to say.”

  “Remove the offenders from the hall.”

  “No. You cannot.”

  “I can,” Cobin assured him with a leering grin. “And I will, for the safety of our people. Guards, seize them both and get them out of here, before their foul corruption…”

  “Foul corruption? Look at them,” Vilnjar pleaded, “all of you. Look. They are but children, both of them. They have no more plotted against the people of the Edgelands than I have. Cobin, you must listen to reason. If you exile them to Rimian they will die down there.”

  The guards hesitated on the short stairs climbing into the judgment chamber until Cobin smugly said, “Then that is Llorveth’s will. Take them away. The sooner they are gone from this place, the sooner our lives can resume normalcy.”

  “Normalcy?” That brief glimpse at the essence of their god had opened his eyes, and there was no denying the truth Llorveth wished for them to see. “Our lives are not normal, have not been normal since the council betrayed Rognar and his men and signed away our freedom to Aelfric the Tyrant King. We deny our very nature, hiding like cowards behind the border of our lands like prisoners in a cage. I see that now. Doesn’t anyone else see it?”

  “Viln, don’t do this,” Rue pleaded, her long face blanching with fear.

  “I have no choice,” he told his sister.

  “She’s corrupted you as well then,” Cobin declared. “I had such high hopes for you, but the witch’s spell has clouded your mind and your judgment, Vilnjar the Strong. Or perhaps you should have been named Vilnjar the Weak of Will. I was right to remove you from this council before you could poison our people with her lies.”

  “Stop, please.” Her tiny voice was an unexpected beacon amidst an argument that would have gone on for hours without intervention. Even Cobin was momentarily silenced by her temerity when she stepped out from under Finn’s arm to address the council. “I know I have no right to speak to anybody here. I am a stranger in your land. I don’t belong here and perhaps your council is right to cast me out because I don’t even know who I am.”

  Compelled by her sincerity, Rhiorna’s words rebounded in his mind again. I promise you that one day she will lead us all to freedom and you will follow her without question.

  “Rhiorna told me Rognar was my father, and that his deeds were responsible for the suffering you all have fared, but I have seen through the eyes of your god this night and your suffering will only grow if you continue to deny the gifts he gave you.”

  “Enough of this!” the chancellor bellowed. “Guards, take her away.”

  Finn rose to his full height, his wide chest expanding as he threw his shoulders back and scowled a silent dare for them to try and touch her.

  “Aren’t any of you even the least bit curious?” Vilnjar turned back to the council. “Isn’t there a part of you that wants to know whether Rhiorna spoke the truth? We are dying, Chancellor. In a few years’ time there will be no children among us at all, and eventually the old will wither and we will die out. What if this girl could help us?”

  “You heard her. She doesn’t even know who she is.” No one but Cobin had spoken all night, so Viln was surprised when Groland stood up almost tentatively to chime in. “Why would our god waste his time speaking through an outsider not of the blood.”

  “If Rognar was her father, then she is of the blood.” The U’lfer had never cherished the half-blooded, but with their numbers dwindling, it shouldn’t have mattered.

  “Then the more important question is why would the word of an outsider, who may or may not be the daughter of the man who single-handedly destroyed our entire race, be of any value to us?”

  “We will not know if we don’t listen to her.”

  Silence. Vilnjar turned to look at her and found round, frightened amber eyes staring back at him. Even if the council would listen, he had a feeling she wouldn’t know what to say, but communing with a god took time. Unfortunately, the only one who could teach her how to use that gift was dead. Glancing over his shoulder at Rhiorna’s still body on the floor, a wave of sorrow rippled through him and he shuddered. Why hadn’t he listened when he still had a chance?

  “Let it be noted that on the evening of the sixteenth day in the thirteenth month in the four-hundred and forty-third year of our Ladies that the daughter of Rognar, who shall never be given the honor of a name in our records, along with Vilnjar the Strong and Finn the Reckless, sons of Deken and Eornlaith, were found to be in violation of the Edgelands Proclamation and judged guilty of treason against the U’lfer by the Council of the Nine. From this day forth, they will be remembered only among the dead, and none here shall speak their names without swift punishment.”

  “Good! Forget our names, but let it also be noted,” Finn spoke up, stepping into place beside Lorelei as if he were born to be her champion, “that the daughter of Rognar has a name. Her name is Lorelei and none of you will ever forget it.”

  Ignoring his outburst, Cobin went on. “All three are sentenced to exile and will be escorted to the southern border and cast into Rimian, where they will
remain until the gods claim them for final judgment. Let their sentence be carried out immediately. Guards, chain them in silver.”

  “You can’t do this,” Rue slammed her palm down upon the banister in outrage.

  “Rue,” Vilnjar warned her with a sharp glare just moments before he felt two guards move in to grab his arms and force them behind his back. “Be strong.”

  “No!” she screamed in fury. “This is ridiculous. It’s an outrage. Send her away, but leave my brothers alone.”

  “I’ll gladly accept your punishment.” Finn spoke up. “Where she goes, I will follow, but my brother had nothing to do with this. Let Vilnjar go.”

  “I go where you go, little brother,” Vilnjar said.

  The unmoved council said nothing, only watched as the three of them were wrapped in silver chain and shoved through the narrow aisles.

  “They’re going to die out there. They’re the only family I have left.”

  “We all must make sacrifices for the safety of the community, Ruwena.”

  “That’s bullshit!” she railed, the pupils of her large eyes dilating in warning of the transformation about to overtake her. “Sacrificing my brothers is not safe for this community and you know it.”

  “Return Ruwena to solitary confinement. Give her another five days to sit with her rage until she can learn to better control the beast within.”

  “You lock me back in that cell and I will tear this place apart,” she warned.

  “Rue.” Vilnjar jerked away from his captors just enough to get closer to his sister. Leaning in, he whispered, “I know you don’t understand, but you have to be strong right now. I thought at first that it was wrong, that Rhiorna was playing some twisted game and she didn’t belong here, but this is the right thing. I can feel it in my gut now. You have to trust me.”

  The sting of her open palm across his face stunned him. Not because Ruwena had never struck him before. With less than a year between their ages, they’d always been close, and when they fought they fought hard. But there was something cold about the strike that broke him inside, filled him with guilt and anguish so overwhelming he felt his knees give a little beneath his own weight.