by Melissa Haag
“Stop. There’s no need for you to travel with me.” I moved forward to help ease him back down, but he held up a hand to halt me.
“The woman needs something of Otto’s,” he said, getting to his knees. Sweat coated his skin again. “I am Otto’s brother. She can use me.”
“Are you rested?” I asked.
“Rested enough.” He stood with effort.
“I have clean clothing, if you would like to change,” Fintan said, moving to a bundle not far from the fire. He produced a tunic and hose. Giso looked at me as he accepted the clothing.
“I would prefer you not watch me dress.”
“I won’t watch. I’ll help so you do not fall and hurt yourself more,” I said, moving to his side.
Fintan made a sound between a laugh and a cough and quickly walked away.
I took the clothes from Giso’s hand and set them on the bedroll.
“Don’t try to lift your arms too high,” I said, already pulling up the tunic he wore.
His gaze held mine, and his cheeks slowly reddened as the hem rose past his waist. His modesty made me smile. But I respected it and kept my gaze fixed despite the very persistent urge to peek. Once we had the old tunic off, I slid the new one over his head and helped him ease his arms into the sleeves. Then I turned, and he used me for balance as he pulled on his hose.
When he was finished, I knelt and helped him into his leather shoes. I looked up and caught his tired expression.
“Do you need to—?”
“I am ready,” he said.
I admired his unwavering determination but also worried for him. Resting for a few hours would unlikely change the fate of his brother. Yet, I could understand Giso’s unwillingness to delay. He had almost died. His name could appear on a list at any time. The thought made my heart ache.
Withdrawing my artavus, I opened a portal to Briton. The overcast sky wasn’t much of an improvement from Francia’s crisp mountain air.
We had a short walk to the nearest village. There I enquired where I might find mistress Margeri. Giso showed signs of tiring, but didn’t ask to stop as we trod the muddy trek to the witch’s place well outside the hamlet.
Her home was a thing of mud and sod. Thick, dark smoke rose from the stone chimney, and bits of things, like bones, dangled from ropes strung on the eves.
“A welcoming place,” Giso said under his breath as I moved to knock on the stout wooden door.
A young woman answered. Dressed in a coarsely woven dress, she looked nothing like the witches I’d known in the past.
“We seek your help,” I said. “My friend is looking for his brother.”
“Enter if your intentions are pure. This hearth and home are warded against the impure.”
We stepped into the dimly lit interior. The scent of drying herbs reminded me of home.
“Come. Sit. Tell me more about who you seek.”
Giso declined a seat and stood behind my chair. His hand settled on my shoulder, sending a tingle of awareness through me. His touch created more yearning for something that couldn’t be.
“I seek my brother. He left without word, and I haven’t seen him for years. I wonder if he is dead or alive, and if he is alive, where he might be.”
“And what do you want with your brother?”
“To talk. There are things only he can answer?”
“And if you do not like his answers?” she asked.
“Then, I do not like them,” he said.
“I will not help you find a man you mean to murder,” she said.
“I mean my brother no harm no matter what he tells me.”
She nodded and reached for a bag beside her. On a low table before her, she set a bowl, which she filled with clean water. Then, she stood and went to Giso with a knife.
“I need a bit of your hair,” she said.
He leaned forward so she could cut some. She dropped the short pieces into the water then sat once more. Staring at the pieces, her eyes went white.
“What you seek is not far from where you began. Follow the merchant’s trade route to the south. He is there.”
Her eyes regained color, and she glanced at Giso.
“I asked the wrong questions,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Nothing. Your fate is your own.” Then she looked at me. “As is yours.”
I frowned, unsure what she meant, but paid her just the same.
When we left the cottage, the light was already starting to fade. It hadn’t seemed like we’d been with the witch that long, but I knew not to assume anything in their presence. I waited until we cleared the next rise, then stopped Giso.
“Enough walking. Tell me where you used to live.”
“A village north of Ely. Three days travel north from London.”
“I know of a place near there,” I said, unsheathing my artavus. “I will open a portal there if you swear to rest afterward.”
His gaze softened as it held mine.
“I swear.”
I created a portal to the place I knew, just south of his old home. We stepped through into a cold, harsh rain. Lightning lit the dark sky and accented his pale, pained face. Although I could endure the weather, he could not, and I was glad he’d already given his word.
In the next flash of lightning, I saw a shape in the distance and waved for him to follow me.
Seven
Light glinted in the small windows of the stone dwelling. I knocked on the door and hoped the inhabitant would willingly give us refuge. If not, I would rune him. Behind me, Giso shivered.
The door swung open to a man with a vaguely familiar face.
“Sir, we are travelers looking for temporary shelter from the storm. Might we share your fire?” I asked, politely.
“Otto,” Giso said from behind me.
My eyes widened in surprise as did the eyes of the man before me. While his gaze shifted to Giso behind me, I studied Otto’s face. The familiarity of his features now made sense. Where Giso’s jaw was strong and handsome, Otto’s was heavy and harsh. Lines crossed his forehead from frowning far too much and his lips were thin and pinched.
“I only want to speak to you, brother. Then, I will trouble you no more,” Giso said.
Otto looked at me, Giso, then the rainy darkness behind us.
“Enter.” His word was clipped and bitter.
I followed him into the single room home that smelled of oak and pine. Otto moved to the far side of the room. Gouges, chisels, augers, and long thin wood saws lay out on the table top behind him, evidence of his trade. As was the headboard leaning against the right wall.
Giso closed the door behind us and crossed the space to his brother.
“You know what I’ve come to ask,” he said softly.
“I do.”
“Did you truly kill my family?”
Otto looked away, anger painting his features.
“I killed your chance for happiness just as you killed mine.”
Giso shook his head slowly. “How do you mean? In what way did I wrong you?”
“How? You took everything from me. You didn’t care about woodcarving. Yet, when I took up father’s trade, so too did you. There was nothing holding you to the village. Yet, you stayed and competed with me for work. I barely had enough to eat. I struggled and you thrived. Merchants knocked on your door offering you trade routes. Pretty women saw your success and offered you their hands in marriage. You took everything. Even my home in the end because I cannot go back.”
Giso stood still through Otto’s angry tirade.
“I took nothing from you. I worked hard and I always told anyone who came to my door about my brother, the other wood carver. If you had nothing, it wasn’t because of me. It was because of you. And by killing my wife and daughter, you robbed yourself of your home. Of a family that loved you.”
Otto’s hand closed around a chisel on the table behind him. With a cry, he launched himself forward and struck out at G
iso. I tried to engage my speed runes to rush forward and block the blow, but nothing happened.
In horror, I watched Giso lift his hand to stop the attack. The chisel, pierced his palm. Giso cried out and reached for his brother’s arm with his good hand.
I ran forward to help, but collided with an invisible wall. The force of impact sent me flying backwards. The fates had finally taken notice of my meddling in the affairs of Mortals and had intervened. My pulse raced, and I quickly scrambled to my feet to watch Giso and Otto fight for control of the chisel, which was no longer in Giso’s palm.
Otto pushed Giso mightily, winning control as Giso stumbled back a step. He launched himself at Giso again, jabbing the tool into Giso’s side.
“No!” I ran forward again and slapped my hands against the unseen barrier. “Stop!”
Neither man seemed to hear me.
Red spread in a growing circle on the side of Giso’s tunic. But it didn’t stay his strength. He pulled back his arm and swung strongly toward his brother’s head, a hit that would knock a lesser man unconscious. His brother, with his stout square jaw, was no lesser man. Still, the hit jarred him back.
The two faced off, circling each other in the middle of the room.
“What do you hope to gain with my death?” Giso asked.
“Peace,” his brother said. “Finally, peace.”
“You won’t find peace in life or death after what you’ve done.”
Giso charged and knocked the chisel from Otto’s grasp. The man swung and hit his brother in the face. The blow stunned Giso long enough for his brother to flee past me. Giso shook his head and took off after his brother out the door.
The wall holding me from him suddenly disappeared, and I fell forward. It took only a moment to right myself and run after the pair.
Outside, Giso stumbled then fell to his knees. Rain plastered his dark hair to his head as he stared in the direction his brother had run.
I quickly went to kneel before him. His eyes were slow to return to my face. When they did, a familiar look of curiosity and peace smoothed his features. I understood that peaceful look too well, and it broke my heart.
Tears welled in my eyes as he lifted his hand to smooth back some of my hair.
“Thora, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever glimpsed. I wanted to tell you that from the first moment, but then I saw what you were. The way you comforted the dying. The way you came back to comfort me. Your beauty flows much deeper than your pale eyes or sun-kissed hair. It’s in your heart. In your soul. Don’t let this life, or the next, change who you are.”
What words for him to speak so earnestly, when he was about to leave me.
Behind him, a movement in the doorway of Otto’s home distracted me. Three women stood in the opening. One old. One middle aged. And one young like me. They watched me closely. Anger boiled in my soul. The hateful hags took everything.
Giso touched my face softly, claiming my attention once more. When my gaze met his, he leaned forward. My breath caught as his lips met mine. I opened my mouth, daring the fates to rob me of even this small moment. Yet, his kiss only hurt me more. I wanted him, not just for this moment, but for eternity. His hand slid to the back of my head and held me in place as his tongue touched mine.
I groaned and wept at the sweet seduction of his kiss. Then he pulled back and placed a kiss on my brow.
“He didn’t rob me of my happiness,” he said softly. “Until I met you, I had none.”
I wept harder and kissed his lips lightly once more.
His fingers fell from my cheek, and his eyes rolled back into his head. In slow motion, he fell to his side in the muck and the mire.
I screamed at the sky and storm, cursing Thor’s display of power when I had so little of my own, my place and position set the moment I accepted Odin’s offering. Bound and locked by the whims of the fates.
Spitting rain from my mouth, I turned to the three watching.
“Be gone,” I yelled. “I want peace, none of your trouble.”
“We are not here to cause trouble,” the youngest said.
“We are here to ensure you fulfill his destiny,” the middle aged one said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Simple child,” the crone croaked. “Check your list.”
I frowned and looked at the scroll. Giso’s name was there.
I couldn’t deny the burst of joy I felt seeing it on the parchment. Bending down, I tapped his face.
“Giso, I’m here for you, now. I am here to give you a gift. Immortality to serve Odin. A lifetime at my side, if you choose.”
His eyes opened, and he looked up at me.
“I choose you, Thora. Always.”
I runed him quickly for healing and sleep then picked him up to bring him inside. When I turned, the hags were already gone.
Water ran in rivulets onto the plank floor. I closed the door behind me and went to the fire where I set Giso before the flames. Otto had left everything behind yet again. Would he return this time?
Searching the chests, I found an extra blanket. I placed the folded blanket under Giso’s head then added more runes to dry and warm him.
Picking up his hand, I watched the wound stop bleeding and slowly start to knit together. The color in his face began to return as well. Sighing, I moved closer to his side and set my head on his shoulder.
Before the sun rose, Giso opened his eyes and lifted his hand. The wound had closed, but a pink line still decorated his skin.
“It will fade by this evening,” I said. “The deeper ones take longer.”
He turned his head to look at me.
“It wasn’t a dream, then?”
“No,” I said with a small shake of my head.
“Immortal. Like you.” He brushed my hair back from my cheek. “Did you mean what you said, Thora? A lifetime at your side?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want a lifetime. We’re Immortal. I want eternity.”
“Eternity is a long time,” I said softly.
“With the wrong person, it might seem forever. With the right one, it won’t seem like enough,” he said, lacing his fingers through mine.
Epilogue
The portal closed behind us as we stood on the sunlit beach. Runes glowed on Giso’s skin as he looked at the coastline for the first time.
“This is what I smelled the first time I saw you,” he said. “Salt and sea. It clung to your hair.”
I smiled slightly and pointed to the long house further from the shore.
“That is home,” I said.
“Home.” He inhaled deeply as his gaze took in the wooden structure and the trees further inland. “Yes. This will be a good home for a wood carver.” He smiled and with a whoop of joy, he picked me up and spun us until I laughed breathlessly.
His lips crashed down on mine, and I savored the feeling.
I was no longer empty or alone, and forever no longer seemed a curse.
Note from the Author
I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the early Runes world and Thora and Giso’s story. If the names sounded weird, that’s because they’re really, really old.
If you want to read something more modern, take a look at my Judgement of the Six series. You can read Hope(less), book 1 for free.
Thank you for reading!
Melissa
More by Melissa Haag
Judgement of the Six Series
Hope(less)
(Mis)fortune
(Un)wise
(Un)bidden
(Dis)content
(Sur)real – (Dual POV)
Judgement of the Six
Companion Series
Clay’s Hope
Emmitt’s Treasure
Luke’s Dream
Carlos’ Peace
(Sur)real – (Dual POV)
Stand Alone Titles
Touch
Moved
WarWolf
Reap the Shadow, Slay the Light
