by AJ Adams
Knut, Turid, Hakon and I swarmed up in seconds, boarding while the men he’d left on board were still staring at the carnage on the beach.
“Bastard whoresons!” one of them was swearing. “They’re Beasts! How did Beasts learn to fight like that?”
I took his head off with one sweep of my knives. “Welcome to Skraeling’s Point.” It took about a second, and the others didn’t put much more of a fight. My two next ones were just standing about and screaming as I lopped them close, and from what I could see, the others hardly had to do more than chop and slice.
Then I was looking around. “We’re a man short.”
Hakon found him, hiding below deck. “Sitting in a cupboard, hoping I’d not hear him tremble,” he said, propelling the nasty looking fat gut rassragr with a dirty grey beard before him.
“I’m a man of god!” he squealed. “A servant of Ullr!”
“And fucker of this little one,” Turid said pushing a little thrall in front of him. “He pushed her into the corridor, hoping she’d distract us, the hrafnasueltir.”
At this point a roar went up from the beach. We’d won, without losing a single man. The duke on the other hand, was standing practically alone among his fallen.
Looking out to the beach with horror, the beard was squealing, “You can’t kill me! I’m under the protection of Ullr!”
“Hello, Patriarch.” I gave him my best smile. “I hope you can swim.”
Turns out he couldn’t. The coward went over the side wailing with terror, and then I had to haul him along by his collar and drag him to shore. Turid and the others took a pilot boat belonging to the duke. No point in getting wetter, as Knut said. And anyway, the Patriarch’s thrall couldn’t swim, either.
It didn’t take long to arrive at the beach, so by the time we got there, the dead had been stacked up in a heap, the remaining enemy had been disarmed, and Brant even had time to go out and bring the vixens back to shore.
My Bliss was standing in the sand, Saga by her side, looking like a shield maiden straight from Odin’s hall. “My lord duke,” she sounded completely cool and in control. “Welcome to Skraeling’s Point.”
I’d done my bit. From this point, everything depended on her.
Chapter Nineteen: Bliss
The second the fire arrows went into the sky, the Beasts were up and running.
“Wynne! Bliss! This way. Now!” Rune was barking orders, and I was obeying without even thinking about it. He had all of us herded into the commons shed, guarded by a lean Beast, armed with a musket.
“Inside and keep low,” the Beast grinned. “Don’t worry! They’ll not get near you. This will be over before you know it.”
I didn’t notice the buckets of water along the walls until Saga took a sniff and pulled a face. It was salty.
“If they fire the walls, use them,” the guard said cheerily.
“They’re going to fire the shed?” Mina cried in alarm.
“Maybe not, but I would.”
“Oh, glorious all-seeing Ullr, protect us!” Mina cried.
“Oh, for Wotan’s sake shut up!” Wynne snapped. “Have some backbone!”
It was no good, the girls were weeping with terror. Their cries went right through me, and their wall of fear set my teeth on edge.
“Let’s sing ‘I Will Serve in Ullr’s Glorious Hall’ to cheer ourselves up,” Lizbeth announced.
“Argh!” Wynne wasn’t a fan, and that song isn’t my favourite, either, but I shushed her because the second they began to sing, they stopped blasting me with their emotion.
Thankfully, the battle was brief although incredibly bloody. The Beasts waited till the very moment the duke’s men set foot in the shallows, and then it was boom, boom, boom as they fired, reloaded, and fired again.
The gunfire was fast and deadly. The duke’s men fell where they stood, not one of them even getting within spitting distance of the barricade, never mind the commons shed.
Not one of the Beasts was hurt, and I saw Siv waving happily from the ship so he and his party were fine, too. I’d known it, seen it, but even so, I found my knees shaking with relief.
“They’re okay,” Wynne had tears running down her face. “I knew it, but still!” Then she whacked me on the back. “Ouch! Forgot you were wearing armour! Well, do keep that thing on, and stay away from that evil fat gut!”
“Siv has checked him over for weapons.”
“He’s got friends in Svartalfheim where the dark ones live, I swear it!”
“I’ll be careful.”
“It’s not the same,” Wynne sniffed. “I’m going with you.”
That took me aback. “Erm, thanks?”
“I like you, Rune likes you, Siv’s nuts about you, and we need you, too,” Wynne grumbled. “I’ll not kill that hrafnasueltir Patriarch, promise.”
“All done!” The Beast at the door called. Now the girls had stopped wailing, I remembered his name was Sigi.
“Victory! Just like you said, vala,” he said cheerfully.
And it was. As Saga and I walked along, the duke’s men were sitting on the sand, disarmed, while their comrades’ bodies were piled behind them. The duke was standing in front of them, looking absolutely shattered.
He gave me an unloving look, so I acted cool. “My lord duke! Welcome to Skraeling’s Point.”
Siv pitched up on the beach, grinning and hauling a coughing and spluttering Patriarch by the collar. Siv’s joy was balm, floating over me in fierce delight. He’d relished his piracy, and now glorious victory streamed off him.
The pale blue eyes were fixed on mine, piercing and quickly reassured. “You okay, Bliss?”
The Patriarch hung from his arm, totally helpless. Siv whipped out one of his knives and slit off his robe, shirt, and hose, leaving him dressed in just his tunic. The knife I’d seen in my vision dropped to the ground.
“Remember me, you rassragr?” Siv growled. “You were brave when I was helpless. How about you fight me now?” He held out a knife. “I’ll let you make the first move.”
“I’m a servant of Ullr!” The Patriarch was babbling, totally terrorised. “You can’t kill me!”
Siv looked him over contemptuously. “You coward. You never took my honour; you don’t have any.”
“Mercy! My lord duke! Don’t let them kill me!”
Siv put away the knife and shoved him towards the duke. “You came with them; you’ll share their fate.”
The duke stiffened, but the Patriarch was blubbering.
“Coward,” Siv was disgusted. “You’re worse than a rassragr.”
“Shut up, you lily-livered knave,” the duke hissed.
The Patriarch was rapidly finding himself friendless.
The Beasts were all present, and now the girls were gathering, too, staring in awed wonder at the duke. Mina curtsied, not even thinking about it, and then went beet-red. The duke didn’t seem to notice her, but when Brant beached the knarr, and the vixens bobbed nervously before settling in a row next to his men, he looked considerably startled.
“Okay, Bliss, it’s all up to you now,” Siv whispered in my ear. He was smiling but now tension was flowing from him. “Go for it, vala!”
It was just like my vision except for the Patriarch weeping and looking silly in his undies. Also, Rose was looking thoughtful rather than sulky, and I suddenly realised that Petronella was wearing yellow underskirts. It had been her in my vision, lying dead on the beach. I blessed the Lady, saying a quick prayer in thanks for letting us save her.
Behind me, Rune was working quietly, talking to groups of his brothers, preparing for the negotiations to come. I sensed determination coming from them, and quiet confidence.
The Beasts were feeling good, and it was totally deserved. When they planned the counterattack, they’d come up with a dozen sneaky ways to take Skraeling Point. However, the duke had simply sailed up, employing the simplest, stupidest strategy. The Beasts had gauged the duke and had found him wanting.
Lo
oking back at the duke’s men, I spotted Courtney, bloodied, pale, but very much alive. All memories of that last night at the lodge vanished. I was darting past the duke and Patriarch, my body acting before my brain could stop me.
“Courtney! Are you badly hurt?” I touched him, and instantly he was bristling. Why is she pretending to care, the treacherous Beast bitch? I stepped away, shattered by his hate.
“It’s not my blood,” Courtney snapped, “and it’s Squire to you, wench!”
“Bliss, come away from them.” Siv was looming, knife out, overprotective and unmistakably claiming me.
It infuriated the duke. That signature darkness emanated from him, intensifying as he glared at Siv and then me. I saw he was unharmed, his armour peeking out from under the rich velvet and furs. Sitting by his side, his friend the constable was free from injury, too. That’s the aristocracy for you; where others fall, they’re invulnerable.
Both nobles were giving me hard stares, but they were a summer breeze compared to the hate coming from the Patriarch, who stopped blubbing and snarled, “Whore!”
He was instantly cuffed by Siv. “Silence, rassragr!”
But the smack had sent the fat gut flat on the sand, his hand hitting my foot. I should’ve killed her that night! I pulled away, poisoned by his hate. But as I moved away, I realised I’d felt something else too: fear. It took me totally by surprise. Now why would the Patriarch be afraid of me?
As I was trying to figure it out, Siv determinedly hauled me away, settling me a full fifteen paces from the Patriarch. Feeling his concern, Saga was next to me, too, bristling as she guarded me.
“Siv, I’m missing something,” I whispered. “The Patriarch has a secret.”
The pale eyes were uncompromising. Siv was in full protective mode. “You’re not going near him.”
“But—”
“No.”
Any further argument was cut off by Rune stepping up. “Duke,” the leader of the Beasts loomed dark and menacing. “You attacked us without warning.”
The duke flushed but remained silent.
“As we agreed a peace with your own Guild Steward just months ago, it’s a dastardly act,” Rune’s voice was cold. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You took our sibyl hostage!”
I heaved a sigh of relief. We’d hoped the duke would take that approach. Now we had a chance.
In the fortnight the Beasts had planned their counterattack, they’d planned long-term.
“We need to avoid all-out war,” Siv had said. “We can kill the duke and his men, no problem. And we’ll probably win the battle after that, too, no matter who takes over. But eventually they’ll call on their friends. Brighthelme, Llanfaes and Caern can easily put together a temporary force of five hundred men. We’ll be overwhelmed.”
“But how can we stop that from happening?” I’d panicked.
Siv grinned. “Actually, I think you’re the very person who can help us there.”
He’d explained his plan and then he, Rune, and Brant had coached me, Siv explaining strategy, Rune the art of negotiating and Brant helping me fine-tune my understanding of how their emotions would work.
I’d felt confident then, but now my knees were shaking.
“Who says we took your sibyl hostage?” Rune sounded shocked.
It was my moment. I stepped forward, Saga at my side. “My lord duke.”
“Sibyl.” The duke was staring, his eyes hard. “You’re flourishing.”
It was an accusation.
“Thank you, duke.”
Rune spoke loudly, so that everyone could hear him. “Bliss, did we abduct you?”
“Of course not!” I let my scorn run freely. “I was rescued!”
There was a gasp from the duke’s men and some murmuring from the crowd.
I waited for dramatic effect, and then turned to the duke. “Sir, I fled in fear for my life! I was attacked! My home, the lodge you so kindly bestowed on me, burnt to the ground! My life threatened by your enemies!”
At that, the Patriarch was standing on the sand screaming, “You lying whore!”
My vision was here.
“Stop!” I was yelling right back. “Nobody move!”
All around us, the Beasts were fuming.
“If you speak to our vala like that again,” Knut snarled, “I’ll gut you like a herring.”
“You’ll have to wait your turn,” Siv said calmly. “Because the fat gut hrafnasueltir is mine.”
“Gentlemen, please!” The duke was about to step forward, but a warning growl from Saga had him stepping back hastily again.
“Okay, that’s enough! Nobody’s gutting the silly bastard,” Rune was loud and clear. “Let’s focus on what matters. Do we fight, duke, and end it here, or will you bargain?”
Then there was a blur and the Patriarch was lunging for me. “You wicked, wanton wench! I’ll kill you!”
The duke stuck out a foot, tripped the fat gut, and then said calmly, “I think we need to talk.”
At this, Rune nodded, and I went off-script. “I need a word with the Patriarch.”
Siv’s instant trepidation flooded over me, but he nodded. “All right, vala.”
At the term, the duke’s attention sharpened.
Siv dragged the Patriarch unceremoniously by the back of his shirt, smashed him in the sand at my feet and stuck a knife in the back of his neck. “One disrespectful word, and you’re eating steel. Got it?”
The muffled squeal must have qualified for agreement because Siv growled, “Chat away, vala.”
I touched his shoulder and got an instant read on him. So close! I was so close! It would all have been mine! A yearning for riches and power rocketed through me. I knew the shape of it. It was the same darkness that came from the duke. But this was a thousand times stronger.
“Is that what it was all about?” I asked him. “Money?”
“What’s she doing?” I heard a Beast ask.
“The Lady Freyja is guiding her,” Rune replied.
The Patriarch didn’t speak but I was riding his mind. He was counting coins: copper and silver, stacks of them, and chortling. I’ll get rid of that Freyja witch, and then it will all be mine. The Vale, Salvation and all the land in between. Let the duke have the city! I’ll have the riches!
I stood up, disgusted with him. “You wanted power,” I told him. “We all think of the city as the source of wealth and authority, but you knew better.”
“What? Power?” The duke was staring. “He’s just a country priest!”
I set him straight. “The Patriarch has been creaming a tithe of every deal in the Vale for years. Every court case, every land sale, and every market day, he comes and takes his share.”
“That’s true!” Wynne called. “I testify the vala is right!”
“But it’s coppers,” the duke said.
“It’s coppers for market sales,” I pointed out, “but the Patriarch got rid of the squire and then the judges.”
“They were corrupt!”
“Maybe, but it meant the Patriarch took control. In addition to the market tax, he began collecting silver pennies for approving wills and land transfers. He also took over court cases, appropriating fines and taking bribes.”
“Licenses, too,” the duke mused. “I never thought about it. But he said it would streamline law and order if we centralised everything.”
“And so he got richer and richer, and more and more powerful,” Siv was absolutely disgusted. “Bleeding his own people for his greed!”
“Even so,” the duke protested, “it’s only a small valley!”
“He had enough to invest in muskets,” Siv told him. “Didn’t you know?”
At that, the duke’s steely glare fell on the Patriarch. “A priest investing in muskets? I never guessed the Vale yielded so much wealth.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” I said quietly. “The Patriarch looked at Salvation, and decided he wanted us, too.”
At th
at, Courtney’s head came straight up.
“I warned the squire about the Patriarch,” I said loudly, “but he was blinded. The Patriarch was clever. He removed the Sisters of Freyja, leaving him the only religious authority. Then he began stirring up the villagers. But I stood between him and total power.”
I got a wave of hatred from the Patriarch. And a sudden vivid image: Courtney, dead on the ground by the flaming lodge, and my body next to his. I almost did it. If it hadn’t been for that cursed Beast, I would have ruled!
“You wanted to take over completely,” I said to the evil priest, “so you told the people I was a witch. Then you collected your own men, and you set out to kill me. And to ensure your power base would be complete, you told the squire to come. You planned to murder him that night, too.”
The Patriarch was panicking. “I didn’t! It’s a lie!”
But Courtney was up and shouting. “You dissembling, base-born villain! I wanted to take Durwyn and David, good strong men, and experienced soldiers! But you said they would hold us back!”
“I didn’t! I didn’t!”
“Liar!”
Siv cuffed the Patriarch and he curled up in terrified silence.
“It would have worked, except that the Lady sent me a warning,” I continued. I was on tricky ground here, but I thought I might be able to handle it.
I looked the duke straight in the eye and lied. “I was disturbed, sir, by the Patriarch’s wiles. Then, when the Beast came, the Lady sent me a vision. She told me I had to prevent the Patriarch from executing him. His death, she said, would lead directly to our destruction.”
“That’s the truth,” Rune didn’t hesitate. “We agreed to a peace with the Guild Steward. If we’d heard one of our men had been brutally slaughtered, flogged, and then burned alive, we would have taken our revenge.”
The duke looked at the almost completed longship and shuddered. “But only I have the authority to issue the death sentence,” he pointed out. “Flogging lies with the judge and the squire, but hangings are my domain. And we haven’t burnt anyone alive in a generation!”
At that Courtney shuffled his feet. “Erm, sir, my lord duke. Erm, I was away hunting, you see. And erm...the Patriarch said he was speaking for Ullr, and you, and well...”
