He could not go much farther; he must find the nearest hiding place and seek rest, at least for a little. Before dawn he would move on, and with luck be close to Hafnarvagr tomorrow, close enough to get a message to Eirik somehow, and find help. All day he had observed armed men swarming across the fields in search of him; to go to his brother’s dwelling was impossible. He would need all the stealth he could summon, and all the subtlety that Somerled had always told him a Wolfskin did not have. Perhaps that was what he should be trying to do: to think as Somerled would think, cleverly, cunningly. Somerled had always known how to put a legal argument, setting it out in logical sequence, clearly and wittily; when challenged by the opposition, Somerled could always summon some trick of words, or aim some barb at his adversary in order to extricate himself. Eyvind had never seen him lose. Very well then, he’d need to do something like that. A shiver went through him, for he knew this challenge was near impossible. Without help, it seemed quite beyond him. And to seek help, from his brother or Thord or others such as Brother Tadhg or even Margaret, that was to set those others at grave risk. What if something happened to Eirik, and his brother never returned home to his family in Rogaland? What kind of burden was that to have on your conscience?
Pondering this and trying to ignore the creeping cold, Eyvind marched grimly on in the darkness until he came to a place he recognized. He had come too far to the east, and was close to the great ring of standing stones, set by a narrow neck of land on rising ground. He had walked this way before, in the days when any man might pass freely across this land without fear of sudden ambush. But no man came here by night unless he must. The stones were full of ancient power; all felt the slow dance of spirits weaving around and between these grave giants. Dotting the landscape close by the great circle were earthen mounds, some sealed, some with low entrances leading to darkness. Only a fool would seek shelter in such a howe after sunset; they’d all heard the tales the locals put about, of how a night in there would turn your hair white as snow, and leave you screaming crazy things the rest of your life. Without saying it in as many words, it was made clear these old places were forbidden.
Eyvind walked on until he saw the form of one such barrow looming up ahead. He thought he could discern an opening, though all was shades of gray on gray. The moon was low in the sky, casting the stones’ long shadows across the heather-clad hillside and touching the lake water with a faint glimmer of silver. It was apparent to him that he could go no farther; he recognized the gradual numbing in his legs and knew they would buckle and disobey him if he asked them to carry him on. Crouched double, he crept into the secret depths of the howe. He walked the edge of the chamber once, touching the neat-laid stones with outstretched fingers, judging the size, the positions of three small alcoves. He did not reach within them. If precious things were hidden here, it was not for him to disturb them. Eyvind unbuckled his stolen sword; he spread his wolfskin on the earthen floor and sat, leaning his back awkwardly against the sloping wall, staring into the blackness. The wolfskin was all he had left, the last thing that was his own: that, and the small tokens Nessa had given him. His captors had tried to seize even those, with muttered words about spells and witchcraft. He had not fought them for his bright sword or his dagger, he had not even fought them for Biter, so great had been his anguish on that day of death and betrayal. But he had fought them for this scrap of cloth, this ribbon, these little things that seemed of no consequence, yet encompassed the world in the space of a girl’s cupped hand.
He did not want to dream. He sat thinking, delaying the moment when his weary lids must drop over his eyes and the longed-for, the dreaded visions again assail him. The wolfskin was warm beneath him; he welcomed that. Not one of them had dared lay hands on that badge of honor, that garment of power. It was strange. In one way, he did not deserve the skin anymore; in another, it had never been more truly part of him. Thor had let him go. He would never again hear that golden trumpet voice calling him on, would never again know the thrilling flood of rage that threw the warrior forward in blind courage to do the god’s will, the call that made of a man an unthinking weapon of sheer unassailable power. Invulnerable, that was what they said: a Wolfskin could be stopped neither by spear nor axe nor broadsword. The Warfather’s silence had seemed a death blow; without that voice, he had indeed been lost, cast adrift, bereft of strength and robbed of purpose. A Wolfskin vowed lifelong loyalty; to break that vow was a kind of death. But he had been human then, as full of doubts and aspirations, of love and sadness as he was at this moment. Thor’s cry had made him deaf to that, the red haze of battle frenzy had made him blind to it. Now he understood what it was to be a man: that it was to be weak as well as strong, to be foolish sometimes and wise sometimes, to know how to love as well as to kill. And he had learned that there were other paths for him, other gods who called in the deep places of the earth, in the lap of wavelets on the shore, in the breath of the west wind. He had learned that there were other kinds of courage. He knew, with deep certainty, that the islands held a new path for him. He need only move forward to find it.
His fingers moved across the fur of the wolfskin, feeling its softness, its strength, its beauty and power. He thought he saw the wolf’s eyes glowing in the darkness, but now they were not yellow and feral, they were the blue of a spring sky, full of courage and sorrow. They were his own eyes. It was his own skin. So long, so many seasons it had taken him to learn this lesson. He had believed it bravery, to feel no fear. It was only now, when there seemed nothing left but the darkness, that he understood what it was to be the wolf.
His eyes closed despite himself; dark turned darker. This time the dream came at once, a soft rustling from the entry as of gentle footsteps, a flickering gold light across the small chamber. She was there, standing hesitant by the opening, clad in blue tunic, dark skirt, her soft hair loose over her shoulders, a little bag on her back, a bundle under her arm. In her free hand she carried a tiny lamp; its glow illuminated her pale skin, her deeply shadowed eyes, her lips parted in the sudden shock of recognition. Her hand began to shake; the lamp wobbled perilously, spilling oil, threatening to fall. He heard her voice, a whisper of astonished disbelief.
“Eyvi?”
Gods, this was cruel indeed, for the nightmare to copy so closely what might have been real. How could he bear this? The urge in him was fierce to leap to his feet, to take two strides across and fold in his arms this lovely phantom, this beguiling trick of light and memory, yet he knew the moment he reached her she would fade, and he would be left with the night and the loneliness. He sat quite still. He scarcely dared to draw breath lest she vanish.
“Eyvi?” the vision said again, and now a hairy gray form pushed past her skirts and hurtled toward him, tail thrashing in delight, tongue licking his face in an exuberant display of recognition. Eyvind rose slowly to his feet, eyes fixed on the slender figure opposite. The lamp shook; she was going to drop it, and it would go out, and she would disappear forever.
“Careful,” he said, stepping forward. “Here, let me take it.” He reached out; he took the little light carefully from her and turned to place it safely in one of the alcoves. A warm glow spread through the round chamber, echoing the warmth that seemed to be flowing now, miraculous, incredible, into every corner of his wounded heart. The moment his fingers had touched hers, he had known that she was real.
Eyvind turned back. There was no need at all for words. His arms went around her, and hers around him; they stood thus enfolded a long time unmoving, for the message that flowed between them was deep and solemn, and needed no more for understanding than the beating of heart on heart.
The hound, however, had a wish to be a part of things, and at length made his presence known again by jumping to plant his great forepaws on Nessa’s shoulder and giving little whines of excitement. Reluctantly, Eyvind released his hold and moved back a step, staring at her in wonderment.
“I thought you were dead,” he said, finding his voice did not
come as readily as usual. “I thought you had perished there in your uncle’s hall. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I failed you, I tried, but—”
“Shh,” Nessa said, putting her fingers up to touch his lips to silence. “You are here, that’s all that matters now. How is it you are here, Eyvi? I saw you fall, I saw you clubbed down and trampled…I thought I had lost you, too, that day…” Her voice was shaking; in the lamplight, he could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks, he could see the deep weariness in her eyes, the pallor of her skin.
“You must sit down. Here,” Eyvind said, drawing her over to the place where the wolfskin was laid on the ground. “You look exhausted. You should eat and drink, you must rest. I have some water here, but no food; I made a rapid departure and brought only what I could snatch before I ran. Nessa—”
She sat; she looked up at him and he was instantly lost for words. In silence, he fetched his stolen water skin, and offered it for her to drink.
“I have some food,” she told him. “Bread, cheese, it’s in my pack. We may as well share it now; who knows what tomorrow may bring? No, not that bag,” she said sharply as he moved to open the larger bundle she had carried. “The other, the small one; that’s it.”
It was another night like that first one, when they had sat together by soft light under the earth, and spoken as if there were no barriers between them. Eyvind saw the recognition of that in Nessa’s eyes. Yet, it was different as well. That first time, they had sat side by side, hand in hand, as if that were quite natural. Tonight, after that first fierce embrace of recognition, a sudden constraint had fallen between them; they sat close, but each was careful, now, not to touch. Their eyes met, and looked away, and met again, as if unable to deny what was as yet unspoken. Eyvind fetched the small store of food, Nessa divided it, giving the dog an equal share, and they made pretense of eating.
“How did you escape?” she ventured. “I cannot understand how you survived so harsh a blow.”
“Grim’s an expert; he did not intend to kill me. And I’ve a hard head, and a will to go on. That much has brought me here. And you—Somerled told me you had perished. He told me you were in the hall with King Engus. With your uncle.”
It seemed she grew still paler, her eyes full of dark memories. “My uncle expected an attack sometime, though not so soon. He made me promise to run and hide if it happened, and I kept my promise. I came away in the little boat, when all were gone. Somerled killed them, Eyvi. All my people, all the fine young men, every one. He hacked off their heads and left their bodies strewn on open ground, gull pickings, worm fodder; he defiled the Whaleback forever with that unthinking act of desecration. I walked among the fallen; I saw this work of madness. He struck down the Kin Stone. It seems to me an ocean of tears cannot speak such sorrow as this.”
Eyvind nodded. No words seemed adequate. He longed to take her in his arms again, to offer simple comfort, but he did not think he could.
“Why are you here? Where are you going?” she asked him suddenly.
“To Hafnarvagr, to seek my brother. I had evidence, clear proof of Somerled’s responsibility for Ulf’s death. I was foolish, I showed it to him, thinking to prevent the attack on the Whaleback, and he took it from me. He would not hear me, Nessa. And the others, I tried to tell them, I tried to stop them, but it was too late. The light of battle blinded them to the truth. But I will prove my case, despite all. I will find witnesses to what happened that day on High Island, and witnesses to the burning that killed Hakon and his wife. My brother can help me. I should move on at daybreak. Somerled’s men are everywhere, searching for me. But I cannot leave you alone with nobody to guard you. Where can you go? Where can you be safe? I should be by your side to shield you.”
She was silent a little, toying with the crust of bread she held. Guard’s eyes followed every movement. “I–I have something to do, a task that must be completed. It’s a little like a ritual, that’s the only way I can describe it. To do this, I must have some time alone, in a particular place. I’m traveling there now. It lies to the west; I came this way only to speak to the stones, to tell them my uncle’s story. Eyvi—I cannot describe for you what comes next, it is dark and secret. But if I achieve this task, it will help. Its purpose is to confront Somerled with the truth of what he has done. So, my quest is the same as yours.”
Her words troubled him deeply. “You can’t go on alone, it’s not safe for you,” he said. “His men are everywhere, you must have seen them. He heard me accuse him openly and he will not stop until he silences me. As for you, you wouldn’t get across the fields, you’d be taken prisoner the first day. I don’t think you fully understand Somerled’s purpose: what he may intend for you. He spoke to me of making you his wife, of claiming the royal bloodline for his own sons. It is this he will pursue once he learns you live. I know him.”
Nessa nodded gravely. “I am aware of this. He visited my uncle’s hall. He spoke of it quite openly.”
“When?”
“Long ago, when he threatened us with annihilation. My hand was to be part of the price for sparing our people’s lives. That gave me many sleepless nights, Eyvi, sleepless nights and troubled days.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.
“I wanted to, but I couldn’t. It was…it was too hard, I couldn’t find the words. It would have been a high price to pay; but I did wonder if I should agree, to save the Folk. Now that I have seen Somerled at work, I know that I was right to refuse. Such a bargain would have won my people only a life of bitter servitude. Besides, I–I knew I could not wed Somerled. I knew it.”
“Because you are a priestess,” Eyvind said, finding again that his voice was not quite obedient to his will. “I understand that.”
Nessa was regarding him very intently. “I could not wed Somerled,” she said again. “I realized it was not possible.”
“Let me come with you,” he blurted out, “let me guard you and help you with this task, whatever it is. I–I thought I’d lost you forever. I can’t lose you again.”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “The task is…it is something I have to do alone, it is a work of magic in which you cannot play a part. But…but if I could have a companion on this journey, save my faithful Guard here, it would be you I would wish for above all others, Eyvi.”
“Can I not at least watch over you, so you can complete the task undisturbed? I would keep you safe. I ask for nothing more than that. Please don’t turn your back on me and walk away, not when I can place myself between you and the peril that shadows your steps.”
“What about your own quest, your own task?”
“It can wait.” He knew even as he said it that this was not so.
“I don’t know. I, too, dread saying farewell again, lest it truly be the last time. I’m not sure I can bear another loss. We need some guidance in this, a sign. If only Rona were still alive. I miss her wisdom so much.”
“She may be still alive,” Eyvind told her cautiously, “though she did place herself at great risk. She’s an old woman, certainly, but there’s a core of iron there every bit as strong as your own.”
Nessa’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Don’t you know her cottage was burned with everything in it? Somerled’s thugs devastated our holy place, laid waste its secrets. An old woman does not survive such an attack.”
Eyvind smiled. “Ah. That was not quite the way of it. She and I, we watched the burning, and it was sad to see her things go up in smoke; that was indeed an act of barbarism. When Somerled’s men sought to find us in the howe, I stepped out to confront them, I and the dog, Shadow. My body was still weak, I doubt if I could have fought them off if it had come to that. But they fled in fear, thinking me some ghostly warrior. That night we slept in the howe, and in the morning Shadow was gone, and so was Rona. I don’t know where they went, Nessa, but there is at least some cause for hope.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “And I know what she would advise. In the morning, I wi
ll cast the bones and see what the signs tell us. Maybe we will go on together; maybe each of us must take a different path. I cannot think of this now; my mind is crowded with other things, my heart is too full to let me see my way clearly.”
Eyvind nodded, thinking her heart and her body could not possibly be full of as many conflicting feelings as his own. He could hardly think straight, so powerful was the longing in him.
“You’re exhausted,” he said. “You must sleep. I have no blanket, not even a cloak; still, the wolfskin is warm. Lie down there; I will sleep over at the other side. A warrior is accustomed to a bed on hard earth. Your dog—have you given him a name?”
“Guard, I called him.”
“Guard will listen for intruders, though I think there will be none here; all fear to approach this place.”
“You did not fear it.”
“I was beyond fear, I think, once I thought you were lost. Now I know it again; I can scarcely bear to think of you going on alone.”
“Hush,” Nessa said. “Tonight is time out of time; there is no place for fear tonight.”
“You must rest.” He made himself move away, settle on the earth as far from her as he could go. Not far enough. For him, there would be no sleep; the aching of his body would torment him, her presence would ensure he fought back his desire, moment by moment, until dawn. “I don’t like to see you so pale, so troubled. Have you held back your tears all this while, for those you have lost? You should not fear to weep; it does not make you any less strong, to let your tears flow. Shall I blow out the lamp?”
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