Outsider

by Klaire de Lys

  Astrid crawled to her bed and curled up beneath her blanket, the panic washing over her. She closed her eyes and inhaled, the familiar but weakening smell calming her. Slowly her heart stopped pounding and the darkness closed in, and she drifted off to sleep in the hope that they would visit her in her dreams.

  * * *

  With a loud bang, the door to the house was kicked open. Astrid awoke with a start, and hearing someone stumbling through and dropping something large and heavy on the floor downstairs, she got up.

  With her blanket wrapped around her like a cape, Astrid dashed over to the stairs, a smile on her face, expecting to see Dag in the doorway. But the stranger she looked down upon wasn’t Dag, and when he lifted his head and their eyes met, they both stepped back in shock.

  ‘Who are you?’ Astrid asked firmly.

  ‘Skad Löfgren!’ The dwarf replied indignantly, as if she should already know exactly who he was.

  Astrid felt a sudden pang of pain as she noticed his eyes, grey like her father’s. Instantly, she felt a kinship to the strange dwarf and the panic she had felt earlier subsided.

  He wasn’t a very tall dwarf, in fact from what Astrid remembered he was probably an inch or two shorter than her father. But unlike her father, Skad did not have a particularly warm or kind look to him, in fact quite the opposite. Deep frown lines were etched into his forehead and mouth, undoubtedly from years of wearing a permanent scowl on his face.

  His clothes were covered by light armour; hundreds of small metal square plates held together by leather straps.

  Dag appeared in the doorway, and spotting Astrid at the top of the stairs, he grinned at her.

  ‘Did you miss me goldheart?’ he said, and Astrid flew down the stairs and fell into his arms, hugging him tightly. Neither of them noticed the look of disgust on Skad’s face as he saw her pointed, elven ears.

  ‘Skad, this is Astrid,’ Dag said, letting her go.

  ‘Just Astrid?’ he asked, with the faintest tone of repulsion in his voice.

  ‘Astrid Hvass Jikka,’ Dag said firmly, his face hardened. Skad widened his eyes and stared at him disbelievingly.

  ‘Hvass?’

  ‘Yes, Hvass.’

  ‘Father?’

  ‘Arnbjörg Hvass.’

  Astrid looked up at Skad curiously as he stared at her.

  ‘Mother?’

  ‘Sylbil Jikka,’ Dag replied, lowering his voice slightly in the hope it would lesson Skad’s reaction.

  ‘Sylbil Jikka! Tyr Jikka’s sister?’

  ‘Yes,’ Dag replied, nodding.

  ‘Tyr? Who’s he?’ Astrid asked.

  ‘Nobody, goldheart,’ Dag said quickly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box covered in embossed leather, a pattern of thistles and jasmine etched into it, and passed it to her. Astrid flicked the bronze clasp at the front and a broad smile spread across her face as she saw a beautiful bottle inside, the glass a foggy shade of light green. A simple cork top prevented the liquid inside from escaping.

  ‘What is it?’ Astrid asked.

  ‘Open it and see!’

  She carefully popped the cork off the top, and as a powerful aroma of jasmine filled the room, Astrid’s mind flooded with a rush of memories. A clear image of Sylbil appeared in her head: her eyes, her smile, the flowers woven into her hair. Tears filled Astrid’s eyes and she blinked, forcing them back.

  ‘Thank you!’ she whispered, carefully closing the bottle, then hugged Dag tightly before grabbing another stick of charcoal from the fireplace and rushing upstairs to her room.

  With the bottle of oil in her left hand, her right hand drew as fast as it could, the image in her mind already starting to fade.

  Finally, Astrid sat back and looked down at the finished drawing with a contented smile, relief washing over her. The final drawing was as clear as crystal, every curve and slant of their faces perfect.

  ‘Hello!’ she whispered.

  * * *

  ‘What was Bjargtre like?’ Astrid asked, trying to use the conversation to distract Dag so she could slip the pie, piece by piece, into her pocket. She planned to ask to leave the table in the next few minutes and dispose of it in the forest, far enough away for the animals to not draw attention to themselves as they ate it. If they ate it.

  The two months Dag had spent away had somehow made his cooking even worse, if that was possible. The crust of the pie was almost completely black and the inside only half cooked. It was all Astrid could do to not throw up as she swallowed the first few chunks.

  ‘You’ve never been?’ Skad interrupted.

  ‘No,’ Astrid replied. ‘I’ve never seen a city.’

  ‘That’s probably wise.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’d probably get murdered!’ Skad replied. Dag slammed his hands down on the table and they glowed perilously, making Astrid sit back in her chair. Skad didn’t flinch.

  ‘You can’t lie to her all her life, Dag!’ he growled. ‘She has to know.’

  ‘Know what?’ Astrid said. She had never seen Dag look this angry. The air around him seemed to darken and the air crackled with magic, making the hairs on her arms stand up.

  ‘Nothing, goldheart,’ he said. ’You don’t need to know anything.’

  Skad knew better than to cross the old warlock, even though he was itching to say what was on his mind.

  ‘Know what!’ Astrid repeated, fixing her eyes on Dag till the warlock turned to look at her. ‘What is it Mossi?’

  ‘Nothing! Go outside for a moment,’ Dag said firmly, and Astrid rose from her chair and sauntered outside, closing the door behind her.

  As soon as she was outside, she dashed around the side of the house, emptying her pocket along the way. The soggy clumps of pie fell to the ground, and she ran up to the tree that grew alongside her bedroom, kicked off her shoes and climbed it with the ease of a squirrel. She pulled away some of the loose thatch and crawled in through the small hole she had made, into her room, sliding forward on the ground until she was as close to the stairs as she could be without being spotted.

  ‘Honestly, what did they think would happen?’ Skad hissed at Dag. ‘I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s what people do!’

  ‘She doesn’t need to know that!’

  ‘She will one day! She’s a Blanda blóð! It’s only-’

  ‘Don’t...EVER...use that word around me!’ Dag warned.

  ‘So...you just want me to pretend to teach her how to fight then? Is that it?’

  ‘No. I want you to teach her how to fight properly.’

  ‘So, now I’m reduced to teaching an elf. If I’d known that was how you were going to insist I pay my debt, I might have let those human raiders kill me instead.’

  ‘I’ll kill you myself if you mistreat her!’

  ‘Is that a threat?’ Skad stood up and glared at him, his hand hovering over the heavy sword that hung from his belt. Astrid watched, terrified, from the top of the staircase.

  ‘Yes,’ Dag replied simply, the wood of the table beneath his hands blackening and smouldering.

  ‘How long do you expect me to stay here till I’ve paid my debt?’

  ‘Till Astrid is better than you.’

  Skad laughed, reached for his ale, and took a large swig.

  ‘So I’ll be here a long time then,’ he muttered, his voice an angry snarl.

  ‘Not as long as you think. Astrid is smart.’

  ‘Not smart enough! If she doesn’t like your food she should just say so!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You didn’t notice? Your pie, Dagmar, is in her pocket. Or it was! I’ll wager she’s dumped it out in the forest where the birds will eat it.’

  Dag looked towards the door and saw a trail of pie sauce that had dripped through her pocket and onto the floor.

  Creeping back over to the new hole she had made in the roof, Astrid crawled through it and held her head in her hands, feeling ashamed of herself. She reached into her poc
ket and pulled out a small piece of the pie that remained. She placed it on her tongue and forced herself to eat it, the hurt look on Dag’s face making her feel miserable; worthless.

  Hearing the front door close, Astrid walked back over to the stairs expecting to see Dag standing by the table, but instead she saw Skad.

  Turning to look up at her, he put down his ale. They could both hear Dag calling for her outside.

  ‘Are you going to go outside?’ Skad asked, his sturdy figure and strong stance looking quite formidable against the light glowing from the fireplace behind him.

  ‘Are you going to train me to fight?’ Astrid asked, ignoring his question.

  ‘Yes. I am.’

  ‘Are you good?’

  ‘Better than you’ll ever be,’ Skad snorted, disdain dripping from his voice.

  For the first time in her life, Astrid felt something growl angrily inside of her. She did not know what the words Blanda blóð meant, but she knew that for some reason this dwarf did not like her, and she could not explain why she suddenly felt a powerful need to prove him wrong.

  Angu Worms

  Jarl watched Astrid curiously as she ran ahead, the wolf’s head still propped over hers, and the bag that hung from her shoulders under her wolf-skin cloak making her look hunchbacked.

  She’d been at this for hours now, since early dawn, and hadn’t once changed her pace. It was a slow steady run and her eyes darted around, watchful and alert.

  Knud, on the other hand, was as far away from alert as was possible: draped over the neck of his pony with his mouth hanging open and his eyes closed. Jarl had strapped him down to the saddle so that he wouldn’t fall from the pony’s back.

  ‘We should stop,’ Jarl whispered to Skad who was riding next to him. ‘She’s going to get tired.’

  Skad laughed, shaking his head. ‘She likes to run. The ponies will get tired before she does.’

  The air had gotten warmer when the sun had risen, but it was still very cold. Jarl pulled his tattered cloak tighter around him.

  For the first few hours they had ridden through dense forest and followed an old, beaten path. They’d passed several small streams and had stopped to re-fill their flasks and let the ponies drink. But before long, the forest had begun to taper out into eerie rock formations and the trail led them through a deep canyon. The sound of the ponies’ hooves echoed against the walls of stone around them. Perfectly circular holes littered every surface, even the ground, and at one point they had to dismount and carefully maneuver themselves across it before finally reaching a slightly less punctured pathway.

  ‘Outlander!’ Halvard called. ‘These holes. What made them?’

  ‘Angu worms,’ Astrid replied.

  ‘Worms? Worms did this?’ Jarl asked, never having heard of anything that could eat through stone.

  ‘Stone worms,’ Astrid said, stopping for a moment and turning to look at him, her different coloured eyes catching him by surprise again. ‘They’re not dangerous during the day, they never come up to the surface if the sun’s out.’

  ‘You call this out?’ Halvard mumbled, looking up at the clouds with disgust.

  ‘Any light will hurt or kill them. They won’t be a problem till nightfall.’

  ‘And when it comes?’

  ‘Either keep moving or stay near the fire,’ Astrid warned, turning and leading them ahead again.

  ‘Have you seen the way she looks at the ponies?’ Halvard said, riding alongside Jarl with Astrid walking a good fifteen metres ahead.

  ‘Skad said she didn’t like them,’ Jarl replied simply, not wanting Halvard to continue the conversation. Something about Astrid made him feel like she could still hear them.

  ‘No. She’s afraid of them,’ Halvard said. ‘Look at her eyes! She’s afraid!’

  ‘And if she is?’ Jarl asked, shrugging his shoulders.

  ‘What do you mean, if she is?’ Halvard scoffed. ‘We’re being led through the wilderness by a small human woman who is afraid of ponies! I’d say that’s a reason to be concerned.’

  ‘If Skad says she’s the best, then she’s the best,’ Jarl said, and Halvard sighed, exasperated.

  ‘Skad is old. And you’ve never liked him. Why do you trust what he says anyway?’

  ‘Because he trained me, and he was a better warrior than even my grandfather. If he trusts Astrid, then so do I.’

  Almost as if she had heard him, Astrid bowed her head and walked a little faster.

  ‘Why do you trust this human?’ Halvard said, moving alongside Skad. Arguing with Jarl was getting him nowhere.

  ‘I don’t need to say why. Just that I do. That should be enough for you,’ Skad snapped, marching his pony ahead to join Astrid. She flinched as the pony’s nose almost touched her shoulder and Jarl looked up in time to see her leap to the side away from it.

  ‘They’re just animals!’ Skad sneered, and Astrid scowled, turning her head away from him so he couldn’t see the disgust on her face.

  ‘The same could be said of every being,’ she said quietly, her voice deceptively calm. The path thinned and Astrid moved ahead of him.

  ‘How long will it take to get out of this place?’ Skad said. The dead rock face for miles around made him feel agitated, and the warm heat and distant sounds emitting from the rock holes made him uneasy. It was like a strange mixture of slow heavy breathing and something soft and fleshy rattling against the stone.

  ‘Only a day.’

  ‘Just a day?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear me the first time?’

  ‘Don’t speak to me like that! I am your elder!’ Skad snarled down at her, completely unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a manner, and worried the others may have heard her.

  ‘Blanda blóð’s do not have elders,’ Astrid replied, striding ahead.

  * * *

  If it had been cold before, it was freezing now. A few snowflakes floated from the sky and Halvard quickly unloaded some of the firewood they had salvaged from the forest earlier that morning.

  Astrid took it from him and arranged it into a mound, then lit it with one quick strike of her flint. Jarl watched her as he silently brought the ponies a little closer to the fire.

  She pulled her bag from under her cloak and tossed it to the ground, a little further back from where the others were sitting. Jarl caught a glimpse of the silver elf bow strapped to the side of it, the metallic surface catching in the firelight. On the opposite side of her bag was a quiver of red-tailed arrows.

  Astrid sat down and tucked her hands into her sleeves, her eyes fixed on the flames. The others, closer to the fire, extended their hands to warm themselves, Halvard not even bothering to hide the fact he was staring at her.

  ‘How did you get that?’ Knud asked, noticing a deep cut on Skad’s knuckles.

  ‘Goblin attack!’ he said proudly. He stood up and flexed his hand to make the scar more noticeable. ‘Escorting Queen Vígdís back to Lǫgberg!’

  ‘I have this,’ Knud said, pulling up his trouser leg to show a deep scar scratched into his knee. ‘Fell down the stairs!’ he said smugly. Astrid smiled under her veil at how proud he looked to have such a simple little mark.

  ‘Ha! That’s nothing! Though it’s probably more than Jarl has!’ Skad scoffed.

  ‘I’m not competing with you,’ Jarl said calmly, refusing to even look up at him. Astrid studied him curiously.

  ‘You wouldn’t win anyway!’ Skad laughed.

  ‘He wouldn’t lose,’ Halvard replied, and Jarl flashed him a look which clearly read ‘don’t.’

  ‘What? Did soft little Jarl trip and scuff his knee too?’ Skad mocked.

  ‘He has Sótthringr scars!’ Knud said quickly.

  ‘Knud!’ Jarl bellowed. His face hardened, his eyes flashed dangerously, and Knud bowed his head. Astrid looked up.

  ‘Oh poor lad. Maybe one of these days he’ll get a real scar!’ Skad went on.

  Jarl’s eyes flashed in the firelight; a deep blue. Astrid easily recog
nised the shielded glare and knew that painful memories floated just beneath the surface.

  ‘This is a real one,’ Halvard interrupted. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a long silver line stretching from his wrist to his elbow. Astrid guessed it had been inflicted by the tip of a sword.

  ‘Not bad! But...’ Skad pulled up his sleeve and smiled triumphantly. Most of his arm was covered with battle wounds. Astrid noticed three Dip claw scars.

  ‘What about you?’ Knud asked suddenly, and Astrid turned her head and noticed they were all staring at her. She shook her head and got to her feet.

  ‘Keep the fire going,’ Astrid said. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let it go down. If you have to relieve yourself, take a torch. Don’t go anywhere where there isn’t light.’ She pulled the hammer axe from her bag and strode out into the darkness.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Halvard called out after her. Astrid ignored him and carried on walking.

  ‘She wins,’ Jarl said quietly under his breath.

  From a large rock a few feet away, Astrid’s grip around her father’s hammer axe tightened. Her hands shook as her eyes flicked across the dozens of large holes in the ground.

  After checking the perimeter, she returned, pulled her cloak from her shoulders and dropped it over her bag to hide her bow. She tossed another log into the fire and a burst of sparks rose from it. Sitting down on the ground, she held her hands out to the flames.

  ‘Where’s Knud?’ she asked, glancing around, noticing that the young dwarf was nowhere to be seen.

  Jarl looked at the empty space where he’d been sitting and jumped to his feet.

  ‘Knud!’ he called. ‘KNUD!’

  Astrid stood up, grabbed the end of one of the burning sticks from the fire and turned to leave with the others close behind.

  ‘KNUD!’ Jarl yelled again.

  ‘Stupid boy,’ Skad muttered.

  Suddenly, there was a loud shuddering sound, and the ground beneath their feet shook, as if something was moving under the surface. Astrid took off, running towards the sound.