Outsider

by Klaire de Lys

  * * *

  Astrid woke up screaming and Jarl and Knud nearly jumped out of their skins as she sat bolt upright and hit out at the empty space in front of her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Jarl asked, reaching out to hold her arms.

  Astrid shivered violently and pushed him away. ‘Nothing! Nothing! Just...a bad dream!’ she said, rubbing her face and getting up. Overwhelmed with an urge to run, her eyes darted around the room. She shook her hands as if they had dirt on them that she couldn’t get off.

  ‘Astrid? What’s wrong?’ Jarl repeated. He stepped towards her but she took a step back.

  ‘Nothing!’ she replied, almost snapping. ‘Nothing.’

  Sitting back down, Astrid leant her head against the wall, trying to shake the image out of her head. Her cheeks were bright red. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ she said to Knud. ‘Go back to sleep.’

  Knud settled back down again and she turned to Jarl, avoiding his eyes.

  ‘I’ll take the next watch. You get some rest.’ Jarl nodded and they passed each other in the passageway. Astrid walked down it until she reached the door and sat down cross-legged in front of it, resting her head on the ground for a moment.

  What on earth was that? she hissed at herself, confused at the sudden rush of emotions and feelings that were flooding her mind, all of them new and frightening. She felt excited but frightened. Her stomach was in knots and she felt oddly light-headed. A little sick. Stop it! Stop doing that! Why are you doing that?

  Looking ahead, Astrid focused on the small hand print embedded in the back of the door and forced herself to run her eyes over it again and again until she could visualise it perfectly, pushing all other thoughts away.

  ‘That’s better,’ she whispered to herself, finally able to close her eyes without seeing Jarls face, his eyes shining at her.

  Whatever that was, it’s not going to happen again.

  Always An Outsider

  33 years ago...

  Astrid said nothing as Dag filled the grave up, but stood silently by his side clutching the velvet pouch with her parents’ rings in it. Her eyes were red and glazed.

  Ragi’s hut was behind them, the tree still lying across it. Dag barely moved the tree when he dragged Ragi’s dead body out from underneath it. Everything was broken, in disarray.

  Looking up at Astrid, Dag put the shovel down and stood silently by the mound, the clouds above them rumbling as small flecks of rain began to patter through the leaves.

  ‘We shouldn’t leave his hut like this,’ Astrid said quietly, her voice hoarse and raspy. She turned to the hut and moved towards the axe leaning against the side.

  ‘Goldheart, we should leave it,’ Dag said, and Astrid turned to look at him in surprise. ‘It’s not our business to move anything.’

  ‘Yes, yes it is!’ Astrid snapped, glaring at him. ‘He’s our friend! We can’t leave his home like this!’

  ‘Ragi’s dead now. There’s no point in moving anything,’ Dag replied, his manner so apathetic that Astrid couldn’t help but gasp. She stepped away from him in disgust, shook her head and picked up the axe then climbed over the crumbled roof and hacked at the nearest branch, cutting through it in one swipe before moving on to the next one.

  For a moment Dag’s hands began to glow, and Astrid stopped and watched him as he mentally wrestled with his dilemma. Eventually, he turned and walked away. Astrid glared at him before hacking at the tree some more. Tears stung her eyes as the rain picked up and began to pour down, drenching everything around her in seconds.

  Leave old man! Leave like you always do! Coward! What’s the point of living in this world if you won’t be a part of it?

  After several minutes, Astrid stopped what she was doing, realising it would take her days to cut through the tree. With the rain pouring down it was becoming harder to keep her footing on the ground. Clenching her fists, she looked down at her hands. Her fingertips glowed a bright orange, like small tongues of flame licking their way over her hand.

  With her eyes firmly fixed on the tree in front of her, Astrid placed her hands on the bark of the trunk, refusing to close her eyes and focusing on the wood. Ragi’s voice echoed in her head as she replayed every memory she had of him in her mind, forcing out every sad image and only letting the memories which made her happy play in front of her.

  Like a fast growing weed, the light around her fingertips grew and spread over the pine, covering it in a yellow, cocoon-like glow. Then, closing her eyes, Astrid pictured the moment the tree had come crashing down, and the look in Ragi’s eyes as the light was pulled from it.

  With a terrible roar, the entire tree was consumed within seconds, the wood and pine needles crumbling and twisting in the flames of her magic, and the heat that bellowed from what remained of the tree turned the rain into fog and blew away in the breeze.

  Opening her eyes, Astrid looked down. The pine was gone and only the broken line across Ragi’s hut showed where it had once been. Rubbing at her eyes, Astrid crawled out of the hut and sat down next to Ragi’s grave, pulling the black velvet bag out of her pocket. She dug at the loose soil with her fingers and tipped the two rings into the hole before covering them over.

  ‘You should have them,’ Astrid whispered. ‘I’ll never need them.’

  * * *

  Sitting by the fireplace, Dag watched the door, his hands wrapped around the hot mug of nettle tea. It was nearly midnight and although Astrid still hadn’t come back, he couldn’t bring himself to go out and look for her. She was broken again, her eyes with the same lost expression as when he had found her in the Aldwood. He hated that expression. It made him feel so utterly lost and helpless. In fact now that he thought about it, mostly everything about raising Astrid made him feel lost.

  There were no set rules or codes of behavior when it came to raising her, and he hated that. There needed to be rules; he hated the guesswork and the constant fear that he was somehow doing something wrong. Life had been so much easier before her.

  With a loud slam, the front door was thrown open by the wind and Astrid walked in, completely drenched, and closed the door behind her. She had a bag of Ragi’s in one hand and the long black sash he had shown her earlier in the other.

  ‘Astrid?’

  Saying nothing, Astrid went to her room, stepped out of her wet clothes and changed into the only spare set she had.

  ‘Astrid?’ Dag called up again.

  Opening Ragi’s bag, she glanced around her room, looking for anything she would want to take with her. She reached for the wooden box Dag had given her containing the jasmine oil before moving away from it.

  There’s no point remembering. It just hurts you. Leave it!

  She tied the black sash around her like Ragi had shown her, wrapping it several times around her waist, then draping it around her neck like a loose scarf a few times before finally moving the last stretch over her head like a hood. She closed the bag, with Ragi’s daggers tucked away neatly at the top, pulled it over her shoulders and picked up her hammer axe and her bow and quiver.

  Hearing Dag moving around downstairs, Astrid opened the door, half considering leaving through the secret hole in the roof but deciding against it. Dag, for all his flaws, had still raised her. At the very least he deserved a goodbye.

  Stepping back in shock, Dag stood aside from the bottom of the stairs to let her pass.

  ‘You’re going?’

  ‘Yes,’ Astrid said firmly.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t know. The human lands.’

  ‘Astrid, you’ll just get hurt!’ Dag begged. ‘No matter where you go, people will always treat you like an outsider! Stay here!’

  ‘Why?’ Astrid snapped. ‘Because I won’t get hurt? Ragi’s dead! The people I love die! That’s just what happens to me!’

  ‘I can protect you here!’

  ‘I don’t want protecting!’ Astrid screamed, and Dag stepped back in shock. ‘I’m tired of people protecting me! I
’m tired of people dying!’

  ‘You can’t stop people dying, Astrid,’ Dag replied gently, reaching out to take her hands in his. Astrid pulled away.

  ‘I’m going to try,’ she said, a determined look lighting up her eyes, a small idea taking root at the back of her mind. She moved towards the door.

  ‘Astrid, no matter where you go, people will always treat you like an outsider. Stay here! Please!’ Dag begged.

  Turning to look at him, feeling tears welling up in her eyes but refusing to cry, Astrid opened the door and walked outside. I’m done crying! The rain poured down so heavily it was almost a continuous waterfall of water.

  Stopping for a moment, Astrid turned back to him, and the old warlock looked at her disbelievingly, still clutching his tea.

  ‘I’ll be back in the winter,’ Astrid said over the sound of the wind and rain. Then turning, she ran from the house, gradually picking up speed until she was running at full pelt, her feet barely touching the ground. As she leapt through the forest she took a deep lungful of air.

  Get used to it, the stern voice in her head whispered. You’ll be running for most of your life.

  Questions

  Waking up, Jarl looked over at Knud out of habit. He was passed out against the wall, his mouth hanging open and his bright red curly hair sticking out in all directions. Astrid was nowhere to be seen and after getting to his feet, he strolled down the passageway. She was sitting at the end with her head leant against the wall.

  ‘Astrid?’

  She looked at him, suddenly feeling her cheeks flush, thankful that the passageway was too dark for him to see.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, sitting down next to her.

  ‘I’m fine!’ Astrid snapped. ‘Sorry, I...I’m fine.’

  ‘How long was I asleep?’

  ‘A few hours.’

  ‘A few?’

  ‘I’m not sure exactly. I haven’t gone outside.’ She smiled, hearing Knud’s snores, and her grey and green eyes caught the little light in the passageway. ‘We can leave when he wakes, he’s still tired.’

  ‘He’s managed this journey so much better than I expected,’ Jarl said, not noticing the slightly alarmed look on Astrid’s face. She felt her cheeks flush again. ‘I thought I’d have to carry him after the first few days.’

  ‘You might have to still. I don’t know how bad the Haltija pass will be. Last time I came, the skirmishes between the goblins and the humans in the pass were only just starting. and I have no idea how bad it will be now. There’s a small village between here and the pass. I have friends there who I can ask about it.’

  ‘If I’d thought about it, I would have left Knud in the Salt Monasteries. It would have been safer for him.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve travelled through worse places than the Haltija pass.’

  ‘He likes you. What does he talk about with you? He keeps talking with you for hours!’

  ‘It’s just a game,’ Astrid said quickly, thinking of how best to lie to him. ‘He tells me something about Bjargtre and I tell him something about the human land. Stops him from talking my ears off!’

  ‘What has he told you about Bjargtre?’ Jarl asked, laughing.

  ‘Not much. It’s in a mountain.’

  ‘As are all dwarf cities.’ He laughed again.

  ‘I tend to talk more than he does.’

  ‘Really? I would think it would be the other way around.’

  Shrugging her shoulders, Astrid smiled. It felt good just to talk like this, and there was something about being in the dark which made her lower her guard, like the rules she enforced on herself in the day time didn’t apply.

  ‘It’s easy to talk to him.’

  ‘Normally he’s the one talking,’ Jarl said. ‘And I suppose Halvard wasn’t the easiest of people to talk to, nor me for that matter.’

  ‘Halvard wouldn’t have been happy if I’d talked to you. Brojóta burðr’s would only give you strange ideas after all,’ Astrid said sarcastically. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your friend.’

  ‘It’s not an insult, it’s exactly the kind of stupid thing he would say.’

  ‘I’ve not met many dwarves...’ Astrid began, her voice hesitant. ‘But the few I have met, I don’t understand why they hate...people like me. Or even some of their own kind. I met a dwarf once and he wouldn’t speak to another dwarf in the same group as him because the other dwarf was Ósómi. I don’t know what that word means.’

  ‘Was his hair short?’ Jarl asked. Astrid nodded her head.

  ‘Really short. It looked like it had be shaved off recently, even his beard. I’d never seen a dwarf with such short hair.’

  ‘Osómi means disgrace.’

  ‘So he did something wrong?’

  ‘No, not necessarily. Halvard’s father had his head shaved for publicly disagreeing with the King. It’s the worst thing you can do to a dwarf aside from killing him,’ Jarl muttered, anger in his voice. ‘Halvard’s father killed himself and his wife after trying to kill Halvard. He was so ashamed, he thought it was better for his family to be dead after being made an Ósómi.’

  Turning, Jarl saw Astrid’s shocked face staring at him, her mouth hanging open. He thought perhaps she was starting to understand Halvard’s constant sullen behavior a little more.

  ‘Status and birth is very important to the dwarves,’ Jarl explained. ‘Too important, especially to most of the nobles.’

  ‘Aren’t you a noble?’ Astrid asked.

  ‘Yes. But my family lost their reputation a long time ago,’ Jarl said sadly. ‘I guess I don’t care as much because I don’t have a family around me to care.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Astrid replied. She was tempted to ask him what had happened, but restrained herself. If you ask him, he’ll ask you about your family, the voice in her head whispered.

  ‘What, you’re not going to ask me what happened?’ Jarl asked jokingly. Astrid shook her head.

  ‘If you want to tell me you can, but I won’t ask. I don’t like when people ask me, so I won’t ask you.’

  Jarl said nothing for a few moments. ‘Would you want to see Bjargtre?’ he finally asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Bjargtre. Would you like to see it?’

  ‘Why are you asking that?’ Astrid said defensively. Jarl was just able to make out her face in the dark. Her brows were bent into a tight arch.

  ‘Because if everything goes well in Lǫgberg, I would like for you to travel back with me,’ Jarl replied, and Astrid felt her heart beating inexplicably faster. Worried Jarl might be able to hear it, and not knowing what else to do, she coughed.

  ‘You’ve kept us alive so far. I can’t promise Knud that I’ll come back, but I do know I’m more likely to survive if you come with me. And it would be nice to have a friend with me.’

  If Astrid had been unsure of how to react before, she was now utterly speechless as a torrent of emotions flooded her head and chest.

  ‘I don’t know...I’d have to think about it,’ Astrid said, somehow managing to keep her voice emotionless. ‘I think if I went you might end up having to protect me, and I’d rather not have my other ear cut off!’

  ‘I’d kill any dwarf who tried to touch you,’ Jarl said. ‘Besides, we can hide your ears easily enough. With your height, anyone would think you were a dwarf!’

  ‘Not with my eyes,’ Astrid muttered. ‘My eyes always give me away.’

  ‘Your eyes are beautiful.’

  Astrid turned to look at him, his own blue eyes looking into hers. ‘Your eyes are the first thing I noticed about you!’ He smiled.

  Astrid couldn’t move; she felt hypnotised. She realised that Jarl was the first dwarf she had ever met who had always looked at her straight in the eyes. He hadn’t even seemed to notice her scars.

  ‘Astrid?’ Knud said suddenly behind her and she nearly jumped out of her skin in shock, her heart beating like a drum.

  ‘Knud! You’re awake!’


  Nodding groggily, he sat down between them, his red hair looking orange in the low light and sticking out like a wild thorn bush in all directions. ‘When are we going?’ he asked, yawning.

  ‘Now you’re up, as soon as we have everything together,’ Astrid replied, feeling slightly annoyed that Knud had woken when he did, but strangely relieved too. She was both worried and excited about what Jarl might have said next.

  You idiot! The little voice inside of her hissed. You cannot feel like this about him! Look what happened to Matir and Faðir. What on earth makes you stupid enough to think that falling in love with him wouldn’t end the same way? Or worse.

  But then another little voice, a quiet and gentle voice, whispered back.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Astrid said, turning back to Jarl. He nodded but said nothing, and continued to sit quietly in the dark with a small smile forming at the corners of his lips.

  * * *

  Slowly opening the door, Astrid stepped outside with an arrow drawn on her bow, ready to fire at the first sign of danger.

  Behind her, Jarl and Knud waited in the passageway, Knud holding the goblin dagger she had lent him and Jarl with his sword in his hand.

  Looking around, Astrid closed her eyes, letting her ears do the work. Jarl didn’t need her to call them out, because a few moments later he saw her shoulders relax and the familiar glint in her eyes when she turned to look at them. They stepped outside and the edges of the door disappeared as soon as it closed shut.

  ‘Where are we going now?’ Knud asked.

  ‘I have some friends who live in a small village just before the Haltija pass. We can stay there for a night or two. I need to know how bad the pass is.’