“I am! I am!” Olivr shouted and bounced up and down on Leif's belly. His older brother grunted in pain. Olivr had no idea he was far too big to be bouncing on his brother. Leif rolled over tossing the boy into his pillows against the headboard. With a groan, he sat up while Olivr began to babble about his day.
"I got to stay up late and eat all the sweets I wanted! But now it is bedtime! Time for bed! Time for bed! Meemam and Solig are taking me to say goodnight. Now to give kisses to Mama and Pader, but you first!"
"Greithr! Greithr, Little Otter. I doubt sleep will come visit you when you are this excited," Leif said, hoping his brother would be collected by his nanny soon. So much remained undone. Things that could not wait for this, but how could he get rid of Olivr? The window for his secret departure was closing fast.
"The Kronadottirs also wish to bid you goodnight, my Tign," the huskarl said opening the door wide to reveal Solveig and Mirjam who were waiting patiently in the hall. They smiled coyly at the huskarl who only shook his head and rolled his eyes. Leif looked around his chambers at all the people and the chaos, then flopped back onto his bed with a loud sigh, too exhausted to rebuke his sisters.
"Show them in. I am sure they have some reason for letting Olivr loose upon me."
Hearing Leif’s command, Mirjam gave a faint squeal of delight. She scuffed her way into his chambers, grinning ear to ear, hands clasped before her. Solveig followed, her face expressing an unspoken apology for the intrusion.
Leif lifted his head off the bed and saw Mirjam’s indignant pleasure. He was nobody's fool.
"How may I help you two troublemakers? You realize that Mother is beside herself after tonight’s antics. First, your disappearing act and then the scene with the Lendmann Mother? Mirjam, you have outdone yourself. All the court is atwitter, and now you come to pester me for an encore?"
"Disappearing act? Scene? What are these things you speak of?” Mirjam said with mock innocence. A pair of thralls closed a trunk filled with a gambeson jacket on top of other clothing. She cocked a curious eyebrow at the thrall's guilty expressions at seeing the armor.
"Do not play the jester with me, Mirjam," Leif said. “I know your handiwork.”
She gave a quick smile and curtsy.
Solveig emitted a startled squeak as she saw Declan, Berserker of the Visekonge, Champion of the Crown and winner of the Bear Shirt. He loomed in the corner, large as a wardrobe. Declan and her brother trained together and were fast friends. Solveig blushed as Leif squinted at her. She knew Declan was part of his entourage. Why she was acting so jumpy?
"If you want to pretend you did not sneak off for some misadventure, know I will not play along. I have my suspicions as to what you two were doing, but perhaps you will be good enough to share the fun with your big brother?” Leif said, resigning himself to his sister’s disruption. At least it gave him a chance to think about something else for a few minutes.
“We have similar questions for you, oh darling brother,” Mirjam said. “Do not think your disappearing act went unnoticed,” she accused with a smirk.
“I had things to attend to,” Leif's said sharply.
“Like what?” Mirjam asked, fluttering her eyes, looking around his chambers with false innocence. “It looks to me like you are packing for a trip. Father is not sending you away to woo some bride, is he?”
“No, and that is none of your business,” Leif flopped back on his bed and covered his eyes with an arm. “Mother wanted Solveig to spend time with one of her suitors. Where did you two sneak off to? Off to be with a secret suitor of your own choosing?” Leif looked up as he said those words, hoping to catch Mirjam off her game. It was a feeble effort, and he realized he was too tired to have a battle of wits with Mirjam right now.
His sister was as cagey as ever and gave nothing away. Solveig, on the other hand, turned white, revealing the scandalous accusation had some truth to it.
“Hmph,” Leif snorted. “I have no problem with that, you know,” he explained to Solveig. “Everyone has someone they would prefer. Someone that Mother and Father would never approve of, but what the loins crave often is no respecter of a proper marriage. So… who is this man that makes your bodice quiver, Solveig?"
His sister blushed a deep red, so flustered she gawped like a fish. He waved a hand at her, withdrawing the question, and lay back again. "I am sure it was Mirjam's idea, regardless.”
Mirjam stopped snooping around his chambers and made noises of fictional outrage.
"Jah, you play the part, but you are not innocent," Leif chided getting off his bed. Olivr was now busy attempting to help the thralls pack.
"We just wanted Olivr to say goodnight to you,” Solveig teased, squirming.
"And to see what I was up to," Leif said, cutting to the quick. Mirjam dropped her pretense and gave a broad toothy grin.
She was not going to give up, he realized. Greithr, Leif thought to himself and sighed. With a wave to the thralls, he dismissed them for the moment. The huskarl and Declan stayed. "If I tell you this, will you let me finish in peace?”
“Jah!” Mirjam said and hopped onto the bed next to Leif. Solveig came and very precisely sat down with her back to Declan causing Leif to pause.
“What is wrong with you tonight? You are skittish as a cat in a kennel,” he demanded of Solveig.
“Nothing,” she snapped. “Why would there be?”
Leif shook his head, too weary to care for the moment.
“You must promise to keep this secret on pain of Father's wrath. Not Mother’s, nor mine. Father's. Do you understand?” Leif demanded, and both girls’ surprised expressions showed they grasped why he was so earnest.
“I swear,” Solveig said.
“Me, too. I swear and cross my heart,” Mirjam agreed.
“My Tign,” Declan interrupted, “do you think it is wise to endanger the Kronadottirs with this?”
“They are in no danger if they keep silent.” Leif gave Declan a confused and questioning look as to why he would voice such worries. Declan snapped to nervous attention.
“Forgive me, my Tign,” he apologized and said nothing more. Leif's mouth twisted as he sucked his teeth for a moment.
“Greithr. I will hold you both to your oaths,” Leif said. “Father has asked me to take on a great duty. Something that will possibly turn the tide of the war against the Skaerslinger.”
"Like what?" Mirjam breathed.
"Did you know we have secret mines and hoards all over the Union?” Leif whispered.
"No," said Solveig, then considered for a moment, "but it seems obvious now that I think about it. Father is smart that way."
"These mines are ancient, going back before Halmar the Great. Maybe even older. Only in the worst of times do the Visekonge draw from the wealth stored in them. The fortune is said to be beyond counting. Lifetimes of work, mines filled with gems and beautiful jewelry."
Leif saw this fired Solveig's imagination.
"Father is sending you to these secret hoards to bring back a ship full of treasure that will save the Forsamling?" Solveig distilled Leif's goal, unable to believe it.
"Jah. An entire ship full."
Both girls sighed in appreciation.
"That is fantastic, Leif! I am sure you will do well-,” Solveig gushed.
"Of course," he teased, talking over her.
Solveig slapped his shoulder for his hubris then continued, "...and have a great saga when you begin your own reign."
"God willing," Leif said, more honest and humble this time.
"I want to come," sulked Mirjam. "Anything to get out of this stuffy palace."
"And far away from Mother, jah?” Leif gave a sympathetic smile to his sister.
"That is just an extra blessing."
The three shared a chuckle at their mother’s overbearing tendencies. As of late, the battle with Mirjam’s pranks and the pressure to find the right husband for Solveig strained the family harmony. It was rumored that Mother dearly wished to
marry off Mirjam first, but the Visekonge forbade it. He declared Solveig, without fail, must marry before Mirjam. Everyone knew father had a soft spot for Mirjam’s spirited personality. It kept the Visedronning’s scrutiny off some of his own tomfoolery. Only Olivr escaped the pressure.
"Oj! I would enjoy the company, true enough, though I am fairly certain Father will kill me if he finds out I told you two any of this.”
"What is life without a little risk?" Mirjam asked, eyes dancing merrily.
"A lot more comfortable!" Solveig snapped.
"If that were so, you would not have tasted some forbidden fruits," Mirjam needled.
"I-" Solveig started to respond but thought better of it.
"Ha! I knew one of you had a secret suitor! Out with it," Leif ordered. Then a sly smirk began to grow. “Or perhaps he is a secret lover?”
"Well," Mirjam began, drawing the word out. Leif was unsure who she was teasing more, him or Solveig who was breathless with horrified anticipation.
"Mirjam..." her sister warned.
“I told you my secret,” Leif goaded, and leaned forward, hungry for theirs.
"What if I told you she was ravaging some lowly spit boy in the kitchens?" Mirjam asked.
Solveig bounced back and forth between relief and mortification.
Leif was dumbfounded, then brayed with laughter so vigorously he began to cough.
"A spit boy? Oh, that is too much! Mirjam, you must spread that around just to scandalize Mother." His sides hurt and he went into another coughing jag.
“You better not!” Solveig slugged Mirjam in the shoulder hitting the sore spot she had struck hours earlier.
“Oww!” Mirjam whined between fits of laughter.
"Uffda. Thank you, Mirjam. I needed cheering up. My mind has been far from easy about this trip," Leif said at long last. "I meant it when I said it would be nice if Father allowed you to come along.”
"Why?” Solveig asked.
"It would mean there would be no risk where I am going. Father would never endanger you two.”
“But you have all the huskarls you would ever need," Mirjam said, spending too much time on the word 'all' while looking at Declan. Solveig shot her a wicked glance promising revenge.
“We are going to the outer wilds and some distance into the Ondeaandkorgfjall,” Leif said, his voice much more subdued.
The Ondeaandkorgfjall was just as dangerous as its name implied, the Demon's Basket. The mountains that formed the borders of the Union to the south, east and west were packed full of manitou and other creatures of legend, as if the natural creatures of the land were not dangerous enough.
Even the Skaerslinger avoided living in the Ondeaandkorgfjall. It was common belief that the demons would not tolerate anyone in their high places of profane power. The entire area remained an empty waste, save for the mad, desperate or possessed.
"That is a death sentence,” Mirjam said soberly, rubbing her bruised shoulder.
"Then you do not have enough protection," Solveig whispered looking at Declan who seemed unimpressed with the legends.
"I think the number of men I have will be enough. We will be close to the shores which should not tempt the demons too much. Besides, there are some areas that have been discovered to be safe, and miners willingly go there to work and live with less protection than I have."
"Father told you that?"
"No. I deduced it from the fact that he is sending me instead of disposable thralls and soldiers." He leaned back to look at Declan. "You would certainly not be going."
"Thank you, my Tign," Declan said with a nod of his head.
"How are you reaching these hoards?"
"By ship. The Silfryxen. I board it tonight and we set out with the regatta tomorrow. When you see me next, I will have a pile of riches under my decks that will rival King Solomon’s."
19. Desire is the Midwife of Audacity
“Three months without Declan!” Solveig groaned into her pillow.
Mirjam sighed, more irritated than depressed by the prospect. Even though the muffled sobbing had stopped, sleep still eluded her. She pulled the thick blankets tighter over her head.
"How will I survive?" Solveig whined.
With a frustrated huff, Mirjam gave up on sleep. "You might even be betrothed by then. To some miserable, but politically advantageous jarlsson... like Birgr Jakobsson Vilhoaettir!"
She flipped down her covers. “How old is he?”
Solveig was too depressed to notice Mirjam’s prickly demeanor. "Nineteen," Solveig moaned, "and still acting like a brat!"
“Birgr might be easy on the eyes, and a good drengr, but he thinks that makes him superior to everyone,” Mirjam said. "That was an awkward visit."
“The way Mother ignored his etiquette was pitiful,” Solveig said.
"Den Aerefulle Emilia is no prize either,” Mirjam agreed.
“You saw how she sniffed around like a prize pig hunting for truffles?" Solveig asked. “Always listening in. Not like he had anything important to say. Prattling on about wrestling or knattleikr. I was even ready to listen to fishing stories by the end.”
“I thought you hid your disgust rather well,” Mirjam said.
Solveig sniffed at the compliment and turned on her side to see Mirjam better. "Putting on all those airs. As if I was the lucky one! Ugh! What a grjonuxa!" She could see Mirjam's silhouette outlined by the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"She obviously gets by on her looks alone,” Mirjam belittled. “You cannot be that arrogant and empty headed unless you are beautiful, wealthy and have a powerful husband.”
“And even then...” Solveig said reinforcing her sister’s disapproval.
Mirjam nodded.
In the distance, Solveig could hear activity at the stables. Loaded carts and carriages began to move. Most likely hauling Leif's supplies to the Silfryxen. The carillon of the Domkyrkje chimed Third Compline. Dawn was four hours away, but it might as well have been a million years to Solveig.
"How could Mother even think of approving such a marriage?" Mirjam asked.
"It is not as if his land is that prestigious! Way out there in the northwest surrounded by the mountains and glaciers? Who are his subjects? Mountain goats and bears?"
Mirjam snorted with laughter. “Do not the Saami live up there?”
Solveig shrugged.
The Saami were the only members of the Forsamling that kept to their nomadic customs and language from the Gamleverden. They had not been keen to emigrate to Akiniwazi till large herds of caribou were discovered. That enticed a few of the more adventurous clans to the new world. They usurped territory the rest of the Forsamling considered uninhabitable and kept on as they had before.
"At least the son of Jarl Alvisaettir would be a more agreeable choice. You would remain in civilized society. Not like with Birgr Vilhoaettir." Mirjam pondered possibilities of the other suitor Mother was considering.
"Jah, but he is so boring and what a slob! He will be a fat pudding by the time he is thirty the way he eats," Solveig quipped.
“And a third or fourth cousin?” Mirjam added, eyes squinching in disgust.
After some time, Solveig sniffled again and clutched her breast, hoping to press the pain out of it. "Three months..."
Mirjam sighed. If she wanted to get any sleep till Declan’s return, something must be done.
"I wish there was a way for me to go with them. Then I could be around him every day," Solveig whispered.
In the dim light, she saw a familiar smile cross Mirjam's lips.
"What?" Solveig asked with a sniff. "What deviltry are you concocting now?"
"Oh... just a way for you to get your wish and for me to drive Mother crazy."
"Your life revolves around that, does it not? Do no men capture your fancy?"
"A few catch my eye, but Mother’s discomfort is a special diversion of mine,” Mirjam admitted.
"You need to be careful or you will find yourself married to s
omeone truly dreadful," Solveig warned.
"Feh. If I do not like my husband, an accident may befall him, or I will just take several lovers on the side to make me happy,” Mirjam said with a lascivious giggle.
Solveig gasped and then giggled at the bawdy statement.
"What is your plan, dearest sister?" Solveig demanded.
"Do you really wish to be with Declan for a few months, out from under Mother's plotting thumb?"
Solveig was certain she loved Declan enough to risk her mother's ire, and possibly her father's too. Perhaps if she showed them that she was in such a state they would have to give in and allow her to marry for love, not position. Besides, the lineage followed Leif. What did it matter who she married? It could not improve the family status. How could their standing be raised when they ruled everything already? After all, she was not going to be married off to a Skaerslinger to try and create a peace treaty. She had nothing to lose.
"Jah," Solveig decided. "I do."
"Good. Then let us prepare for the regatta tomorrow."
"How?" Solveig asked as Mirjam whipped off the covers and began to get out of her bedclothes.
"Simple. We go to Leif's room. I am certain he has already left for I cannot hear the carts at the stables anymore."
"What could possibly be there that could get us on the ship?" Solveig asked, as she, too, began to dress.
"His clothes, daufimurtr!"
"What?"
Mirjam rolled her eyes.
"Hurry up!” Mirjam ordered walking to the door, listening for anyone moving about at that hour. “I know what to do, but I need you to promise me something first."
"What am I promising now?"
"That you will not back out. The instant you go through this door, it is your solemn oath to see my plan through. Otherwise, we may as well stop right now." Mirjam's face was stony serious.
Solveig hesitated.
Mirjam let out a grunt of exasperation. "Well? Are we doing this or not?"
Then Solveig remembered Declan's kiss.
"Go. Before I change my mind," she said with eyes pinched shut.
Mirjam's wicked grin returned.
Akiniwazisaga: The Inheritance Thieves Page 13
