by M. K. Hume
A buzz of noise from the crowd followed the king’s decision.
Even Frodhi’s smile was wavering, and the meaningful stare he shot in Stormbringer’s direction was pregnant with warning. Had Frodhi been closer, Arthur knew the Dene would have begged Stormbringer to be silent to save his reputation and his life.
Some of the Crow King’s warriors looked forward to the spectacle of combat, while others were concerned that politics could threaten the safety of young girls who had barely reached marriageable age. Some white-haired old men shook their heads in disapproval at the lowered standards of modern times. Predictably, the audience blamed the witchwoman for the king’s decision, but wisely refrained from saying so.
Regardless of the voice in his head that warned him his decision was flawed, Hrolf Kraki plowed on, pleasing no one, and causing several of the more influential Dene jarls to become concerned for his sanity.
“And so it shall be!” Hrolf Kraki stated fretfully. He was wise enough to know that discord was already dividing his subjects, so he pushed Aednetta’s insistent fingers away and continued. “Let us discover the truth about these captives tomorrow during a contest where God and the Dene people can judge them. Until then, Stormbringer, you are ordered to care for your gifts assiduously within the walls of Heorot. If they are false, they must have no opportunity to infect my people with their poisons. Since you have chosen to champion the captives over the wishes of my most loyal adviser, your fate now rests on what they can achieve. For now, that is quite enough!”
The king’s face was frozen and adamant. Stormbringer was aware that the views of the Crow King couldn’t be shaken.
“God help us all,” Stormbringer said softly so that only his warriors could hear him. “Tomorrow might see the end of all our dreams and plans.”
The king stalked down from the dais and retreated to his apartments in the rear of the building, while Aednetta followed in his wake with a barely controlled smile of satisfaction. One hand was toying with a soft woven pouch containing small, white fragments of bone with black runes burned into them. They clicked together ominously. As master and adviser left the hall, the hearts of Eamonn and Arthur sank at the magnitude of the task—and their slim chances of survival.
Breathlessly, Arthur told the other captives what the king had decided, but Maeve was unperturbed. She continued to stare at the back of the retreating witchwoman and a world of malevolence was contained in her long, flat glare of hatred.
The young prince would have chided her, but he lacked the words or the will.
Chapter IX
A VERY NASTY NIGHT
Nowhere can a man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul.
—MARCUS AURELIUS, Meditations, BOOK 4
Even before the audience had ended and the witnesses had departed, Stormbringer gripped Arthur by his bound hands and dragged him back the way they had come, followed by three of his warriors escorting the other young captives. Frodhi surreptitiously brought up the rear. Around them, the curious bystanders took one look at the Sae Dene’s furious face and disappeared like smoke. Stormbringer yanked Arthur to his full height. Arthur was disturbed to see a flicker of fear in Stormbringer’s furious eyes.
“Are you a complete idiot, Arthur? It is one thing to make a ridiculous claim for blood price, for I can understand your rage when you discovered your kinsman was dead. I suppose I might have reacted much as you did, if I were in your shoes. But why did you and your sister attack the king’s adviser? What possessed you? I wouldn’t have dared to criticize the witchwoman, and my mother was his father’s sister.”
“She’s false, Stormbringer . . . I swear to you that she’s a creature of wickedness.” Arthur used his entire weight to halt the Sae Dene’s headlong rush. Then he brought his face close to the captain’s and hissed back at him as he tried to explain what he and his sister had clearly recognized—that the witchwoman was a danger to all their lives.
“Could we possibly talk treason somewhere a little more private?” Frodhi added his opinion in a drawled whisper.
“I’m not playing games, Stormbringer, and I can swear that I never meant to say anything to insult the king. My sister reacted without thought when she was faced by a creature from the darkness. I’m afraid that neither of us is used to holding our tongues, and we could clearly see that the bitch oozes danger and seduction from every pore of her body.”
“That’s as may be, Arthur, but Aednetta is unassailable. Do you hear me? She can’t be touched!” Stormbringer’s voice was heavy with regret.
Frodhi attacked the Briton immediately in a thunderous voice from which all humor had vanished. “My cousin has treated you well, yet you’ve persisted in dragging him towards disaster. Do you want to see him executed as a traitor? You can believe me when I say that the Crow King is quite capable of ordering such an extreme punishment.”
“You’ve no need to explain Stormbringer’s position because I understand the situation,” Arthur snapped back. “The king is unreasonable to blame a loyal servant for the actions of strangers. Is he such a tyrant then?”
“Here you go again, trying to have all our heads separated from our shoulders,” Frodhi replied seriously. His normally amiable expression was sharp and angry. “The witchwoman has eyes and ears everywhere, and she feeds on my cousin’s fear of treachery. If he had even a hint of what you just said, I would be also be deemed guilty by association—even though I’ve taken pains to stay on his right side. Gods, Stormbringer, you’ve brought us trouble with this little lot. The girls are pretty, but that Maeve is near as crazy as the witchwoman.”
“Where did she come from?” Arthur asked, careful to keep his voice down. He was displeased that Frodhi had insulted his sister by such an obscene comparison, but in truth Maeve and he had made a bad situation a hundred times worse and, now that his blood had cooled, he felt sorry that he had involved his benefactor in so much trouble.
“What’s her relationship with Snaer—or the Hundings? I smell a connection,” Arthur added. “If you discovered a link with Hrolf Kraki’s enemies, she’d have to be vulnerable.”
Stormbringer agreed. “I’ll try to discover what I can of her life before she came to the Dene court. But I’m also aware that better men than I have attempted to chase down Aednetta’s antecedents. They failed . . . and they died.”
He smiled awkwardly.
“My men and I must act with great care now that our king has intertwined our fates with yours. I doubt that I and my warriors will survive his anger if you fail to rise to his challenge.”
“If it makes life easier for you, Valdar, I’ll be the one to dig into the witchwoman’s past before she came to Heorot.” At long last, Frodhi seemed to be talking in deadly earnest, and Arthur liked him the better for it. “I am far better placed to act in this sensitive matter, kinsman, and my search won’t cause the gossip that questions from you would start.”
“You’re being generous,” Arthur said quietly.
“I’m being realistic, Briton, and I’m used to cleaning up messes not of my making, which is probably why I play the part of a jokester. Admittedly, it’s the Crow King who usually needs my help, rather than my big hairy cousin.”
“Thank you, Frod! I think!”
“In all good conscience, I can’t allow my captives to be murdered, even if they’ve brought it on themselves. But I’m not prepared to act dishonorably—even if I lose my master’s trust.”
A small hand reached out to touch Stormbringer’s forearm, and he looked down into Maeve’s transparent face.
“I’ve brought trouble to you, my lord, and I’m truly sorry. But the witchwoman appeared to me like a black serpent. I saw her forked tongue beneath the normal features of her face—and I was afraid! I know that she saw me for what I am too, and she hates me with every fiber of her being. She isn’t a witch, and she has no spells or curses tha
t can harm any of us. But she has the knowing, which is more dangerous than false spells, because this woman’s heart is black, through and through, and it’s filled with her hatred and malice. Cold freezes her and I sense only one dark passion, one overriding love that weakens the chill self-interest of her nature. I swear she’s no true woman—just lust, envy, and vengeance in the likeness of a female form. Still, I beg your pardon because I’ve managed to bring harm to you and yours. I wish I didn’t have the knowing. Sometimes ignorance is better and safer than knowledge.”
Frodhi gazed at Maeve as if this girl-woman had suddenly sprouted black wings. “Have you always seen through to the hearts of people, little one? It must be very difficult at times for your kin and your friends.”
Maeve blushed to the hairline, but her brother was unable to tell whether it was through anger or embarrassment. “Never before, so I suppose that’s why I blurted out my reactions to the witchwoman.”
Frodhi crossed himself surreptitiously while Arthur tried to explain.
“Our whole family has odd traits, especially on my father’s side. But Maeve was born early, and it’s said she had the caul over her face. The old women in our household swear that my sister is fated to become a great queen and a priestess.”
Frodhi bowed ironically in acknowledgment. “Then we must ensure that this novice seawife survives the next few days. I’ll help in any way I can, Stormbringer, but I’ve spent too much time with you tonight. I don’t want any awkward tales to be passed back to Hrolf Kraki if I can help it.”
“Thank you, Frod. I’ll do my best to make certain that you’re not dragged into this mess.”
Frodhi inclined his head and stepped backwards into the shadows.
Although he was watching carefully, Arthur was amazed at how such a large man could vanish like a puff of smoke in a high wind.
I don’t want you to suffer on our account either, Frodhi, Arthur thought as he patted Maeve encouragingly on the shoulder. But there was no denying that he felt more comfortable now that Frodhi had left them to their own devices.
“It’s time for Eamonn and me to decide how we can fight Hrolf Kraki’s warriors when we haven’t practiced or even held a weapon for weeks. Aednetta believes we’ll fail and become so much bloody meat. If she’s correct, you’ll also be harmed by our failure, which would, at best, be unjust.”
Arthur was beginning to feel much better, now that his anger and frustrations had been expressed.
“Have you considered the possibility that Aednetta is seeking to crush you, and that our presence simply provides her with another weapon that she can use against you? I’ve fallen into her hands, but I believe you’re the real target.
“I’ve had time now to consider what happened tonight, and I’ve concluded that the witchwoman came to tonight’s audience with one aim in mind: to reduce your influence within the king’s court. Your spoils from the raid into Britain, your gifts to the king, and the heroism of your successful journey could be expected to win Hrolf Kraki’s praise. You must be careful! Very, very careful! My friends are just an extra amusement that allows her to flex her claws in the background. And, yes . . . I played directly into her hands like the fool that I am.”
“Not a fool—just young!” Stormbringer replied, but his mind was obviously distracted.
He reacted to Arthur’s proposition by pulling the young man forwards again so that the small party continued into the darker recesses of Heorot’s unlit flanks. Arthur permitted himself to be led to a place where half walls enclosed small storage areas.
Maeve’s skirts made a gentle susurration on the planks. She slowed Stormbringer’s steps with one white hand.
“You have the solution to one of Arthur’s problems, master. You’re still in possession of the Dragon Knife and the sword that was gifted to Arthur by our father. You also hold Eamonn’s weapons. I noticed that they weren’t among the tribute weapons that you gave to your king, so you seem to have the knowing yourself.”
Stormbringer snorted but said nothing. He simply lengthened his stride so that the party was dragged along in his wake towards one of the storerooms in the buildings adjacent to the king’s hall.
The captain led Arthur to the right of the central hall, where the low outer wall met the floor under a steeply pitched roof. The height of this space was barely sufficient for a woman to stand upright and Arthur noted how the low roof had created a storage area. It had been turned into a room by the placement of wooden barrels and large pottery containers. More stored foodstuffs hung from the roof where rodents couldn’t pillage them.
Coils of rope, heavy bales of wool, and wooden tubs were packed tightly against the outer wall. The space was warmer than Arthur had expected because the stored articles provided heavy insulation against the bitter cold of the outside air. Stormbringer explained that surplus grain, mead, and dried meat were stored in Heorot to protect the Dene food supplies within the most easily defendable structure in the town.
“Food supplies are of enormous importance to our people in times when nature’s generosity is limited. Some of the populace might be asked to give up their lives for the good of the rest. Can you imagine the misery a man feels when he permits his parents to walk out into the snow, stark naked, so that his children can live?”
Arthur shook his head, certain he could never ask for such a sacrifice, even if his own life depended on it.
“Our kings make provision for times of hardship, so you can understand why they are greatly honored. We’re fortunate here in Heorot because we have ample space to store excess food; our king takes food from some of his subjects in lieu of coin, so those supplies are also available in times of famine. Despite what you have seen of him today, Hrolf Kraki has always been a good king who understands the basic needs of his people.”
Arthur admired the Sae Dene’s defense of his king, considering Hrolf Kraki had been so unkind to him; Stormbringer was a decent man attempting to understand the motivations of a confused and morally compromised ruler.
Stormbringer unbound the four captives and explained that his personal guard would protect them during the night. Food and water would be brought to them, and no poisons would bring them to an untimely death. In the meantime, they would be able to practice with wooden weapons as much as they chose, although they would need to wait until the morning to receive their fighting blades.
They listened carefully, while Arthur asked patiently if water for washing would be made available. “I will be shamed if I’m forced to stand before your king and risk death while I’m dirty and unkempt. I can’t do anything about my torn clothing, but I can ensure that I’m clean. If I’m going to die tomorrow, I’d hate to perish with dirty hands, feet, and hair.”
“Aye!” Eamonn agreed, only partly understanding the conversation, but recognizing the words for water and washing. “I’m not as fastidious as my friend here, but I’m aware that I smell as bad as a spavined old mule.”
“You underestimate your stink, brother, because you smell like an old, dead mule,” Blaise added. “Please, Captain, we all long for a chance to be clean and neat. Maeve and I don’t even have a comb to untangle our hair. We must look like scarecrows.”
Stormbringer promised to find some way to accede to their needs. Unfortunately, the captain was distracted and his eyes kept darting towards the lighted regions of the hall, as if he had business elsewhere and needed to absent himself quickly.
“You can tell your friends about my king’s demands after I’ve gone, Arthur. In the meantime, you and Eamonn need some basic combat practice, and then you should eat and get a good night’s sleep. Much will hang upon your skill tomorrow, not least your lives. I’ll do my part to prepare you for battle in the morning.”
Stormbringer took two rapid steps away from the small group of bedraggled Britons. Suddenly, a further thought occurred to him and he turned back, with regret clearly written on his
face. “I will also act on your concerns about the witchwoman’s confederates. My cousin, Frodhi, will keep his word in this regard, but his investigations will take a great deal of time—several weeks, even months. If Aednetta has been indiscreet, which I doubt, we’ll need proof of what we intend to say. In the meantime, you should depend only on one another! These islands are like the rest of the world, and respond to strong rule. It’s sad, but it’s true.”
Stormbringer stared off into the distance. “I’m totally loyal to the Dene people, so I risk much by acting on your suggestions. One thing is for certain, Arthur. I won’t betray my country or my king for you or your womenfolk, even if you’re correct in your assumptions about Aednetta. Unless I find firm evidence that I can use against her, I’ll be keeping my tongue between my teeth. I have the welfare of my daughters and my two sisters to consider. They shouldn’t be made to suffer because I placed my trust in you and yours.”
“That’s quite reasonable,” Arthur replied as Stormbringer retreated into the darkness with long strides, leaving three guards behind him and a single lamp to light the uncomfortable gloom.
After he had gone, Arthur had the leisure to consider what Stormbringer had said. The tall Sae Dene had never mentioned children before and had made no reference to a wife during the discussion that had just taken place. He wondered if Stormbringer’s woman might have been exposed to the elements at some time in the past, shuddering at the thought of having to carry out such a task.
“If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t risk anything for four strangers from foreign lands,” Arthur decided. “After all, we’ve caused him a great deal of trouble—not to mention expense!”
“Aye, brother,” Maeve answered softly. “And he’s too good a man to be destroyed by a woman who wishes to place herself on the throne of the Dene.”
