Torunn’s sharp step from the kitchens nipped the silence, and Geirolf pulled his fur cloak higher over his shoulder. Her chair scraped the stone floor. Geirolf slurped. She pulled her shawl closer as settled herself beside Geirolf.
“Any word?” Torunn asked.
Geirolf slurped.
She wrung her hands together, but failed to rid the cold from her bony hands.
“Not of late,” Geirolf answered and slurped.
Torunn sighed and gazed up at the holly and pine trims that still hung on the wall from Jol nearly a fortnight past. Piles of dried pine needles collected along the edge of the room and the sheen has long since faded from the holly leaves. Most of the berries had withered and fallen to join the piles of dead pine needles.
“Are you ever going to them down?” Geirolf asked, shaking Torunn from her musings.” They only add to the abysmal mood.”
“I—”
The sudden baritone of Gunir’s horn penetrated the silence causing a brief delay before either Torunn or Geirolf could determine its meaning. Exchanging a look, Geirolf dropped his spoon and stood with Torunn as they threw themselves to the double oak doors that led to Gunir’s courtyard.
With a stiffness and a gimp to his leg, the horse master hobbled from the stables as men from the barracks filled into the courtyard to greet their King and Kallan. As Rune slid of his mount, Kallan lowered herself to the ground.
“Welcome back, Rune,” Geirolf said slapping a hand to Rune’s shoulder with a warm grin that seemed out of place. Before Rune could release Kallan, Geirolf swept her hand from Rune, and planted a kiss to her cheek.” Sweet Lady.”
“Tell me you have fresh mead and a hot fire inside,” Rune said, catching Torunn in a hug.
“As always,” she said and followed Rune into the Hall ahead of Geirolf who took Kallan’s arm.
Stripping his gloves from his hands, Rune slid his overcoat from his shoulders to welcome the warmth from the fire as he made his way to the grand stairs on the Hall’s North side. His gaze shifted to the empty throne briefly before leading his clan up the stairs to the second floor corridor.
“Torunn,” he said as Kallan slipped her arm free from Geirolf and silently made her way to the first set of double doors on her right.” Have your girls bring up a platter for Kallan.”
“Certainly,” Torunn said as Kallan closed her door behind her. But before she could gather her skirts, Rune grabbed her arm.
“She hasn’t spoken a word in two weeks,” he muttered. “She barely eats. Brew one of Geirolf’s teas for her…something that will help her rest.”
The key keeper pursed her lips and nodded then hastened down the stairs to the kitchens.
“Geirolf.” Rune gave a nod and proceeded down the hall to the door of his sitting room that was filled with the warmth from the hearth fire.
Geirolf followed Rune inside and closed the door behind him as Rune dropped his coat and gloves to a chair and made his way to the collection of meads and ales beside a table laden with maps and parchment.
“Rune.”
The cork whined as Rune pulled the flask free from the mead.
“How is she?”
Rune chugged back a long mouthful and Geirolf waited.
Slowly, Rune’s hand began to shake and, pulling the bottle from his mouth, he flung the glass into the fire that shattered then ignited and settled back down in the time it took Rune to brace his hands on the table’s edge. His shoulders hunched over as if buckling beneath Kallan’s grief.
“Ten thousand…” Rune muttered. “Ten thousand.”
Geirolf held his breath as Rune dared speak of the fear that vexed them all.
“Ten thousand men, wives, women, children…Ten thousand dead.” Rune released the table and gazed at Geirolf.” Lorlenalin’s walls were built on the granite and stone hewn from the rock and mountain. Shipments of quartz and tungsten were brought into port. What could possibly do such a thing as to rent every last stone of the White Opal?”
“Is no one left?” Geirolf asked.
“Not a child, not a stone… Not Daggon,” Rune answered and stared down at his hands.” Not a clue as to what or why.”
“Everyone fears that we’re next,” Geirolf said.
“That thought constantly plagues me.” Rune sighed and rubbed his face then stared into the fire. A bit of glass glistened in the firelight.” Any word from Bergen?”
Geirolf shook his head.” He left early this year.”
Rune furrowed his brow.” Did he say why?”
Geirolf found a smile beneath the solemn mood. “You know Bergen gives no reason where Râ-Kedet is concerned.”
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