“Grim's alive,” she smiled.
“Grim's alive.”
They grinned stupidly at each other for a few moments. “Roe has to be with him.” Finn's face fell. “What?” Disa asked. Finn shook his head miserably. “What aren't you telling me?”
“My brother saw him...” he hesitated. “Saw him taken. He…” Finn trailed off again.
“You're wrong,” Disa spat. She took off, tearing from body to body, inspecting everyone.
“Disa,” he called.
She ignored him, focused on the morbid task before her. Face after face flashed in front of her, some bloated and some not, none of them belonging to Roe. He isn't here, she told herself, but she kept going. Finn put a hand on her shoulder and she slapped it away, mostly out of surprise. “He wouldn't just leave me,” she snapped. “He wouldn't leave without knowing I was safe. He wouldn't just die.” The look on her face dared him point out the fault in her logic.
“I know,” he said softly, his face completely serious. “I've already looked at all these men. He isn't here.”
“What about Rurik? You said you talked to him? That he saw Roe get taken?”
Finn nodded. “I found my brother tied up on the floor of his tent. He said he'd been taken hostage by Agnar and Ragnar. They were going to take him back to our keep and seize power. He commanded me to get to you, to keep you safe.”
She closed her eyes. Rurik was captive. “When did he see my brother?”
“Your brother found him tied up, too. He tried to release him. He was discovered and taken.” Disa was crying, her fingers grasping at her chest. “I'm taking you home,” he growled. “I'm taking you home and then I'm going after those men. They're not going to get away with this.”
Disa quieted abruptly. “I'm going with you.”
“No,” he answered immediately and with force.
“Yes. If my brother was taken, that's where he'll be.”
“You don't know that.”
“Of course I know that! After something like this, he won't be cowering at home. And I won't either.”
“My brother wanted me to keep you safe. Your brother would want that, too.”
“I don't see them here. Either of them. They don't get a vote.”
“What about Nan! If she's alive, she's at home. Think about her.”
“STOP!” she shouted. “You've been trying to get rid of me since we woke up. It's not going to work.”
“I'm not--” He shoved his hands in his shaggy hair. “It's not safe.”
“Fine. Take me home. But if you think I'm staying there, you're crazy. I'm going, either with you or after. But I. Am. Going.”
A flock of birds erupted from the trees in a flurry of feathers and squawks. There was a sound, maybe human voices, but Disa couldn't be sure. It was too far away. She opened her mouth to ask Finn if he'd heard it, too, but Finn clamped his hand over her mouth. “Move back,” he whispered. They both scrambled beside the hall, and Finn stood up, sword drawn, and watching intently around the corner.
Visions of that night flooded her mind: strangers and swords and fire. “Let's go,” Disa breathed fervently. Nan’s crumpled body. The pain of burning fingers. Finn reached out and pushed her back, gently urging her towards the tents and the tree line beyond. “Come with me,” she hissed when he made no move to follow, grabbing at his outstretched arm.
“Quiet.”
“Finn,” she snapped.
He tore his eyes away from the clearing and looked at her briefly. “Go,” he nodded.
Disa kept her grip on his wrist, not fully trusting him to follow after her. They were almost to the brush when he pulled his arm away from her. “Please,” she cried, her nerves finally stretched to breaking as she felt her panic renewed. His body shaking on the shore. The blood surging over her hand as she plunged her knife into the murderer’s chest, the burned knife that had found its way back to her. Everything smelled like fire and death, including her. She just wanted to be away, but not without him. She wouldn't be safe alone. “Please.”
Finn shifted, taking her hand in his, and squeezed. “I am right behind you, I promise. Go.” Disa cried once, holding onto him for as long as she could. “Go.”
Disa ran to the cover, ducking into the shade as quietly as she could. She knew she was crying, knew she was breathing too loud, and she tried to keep her voice close to her chest despite her racing heart. She stopped at the first great tree she came across and threw herself behind its wide trunk. The last few days came crashing down on her, her fatigue and hunger making her feel dizzy and weak. She listened hard for pounding footsteps or the clash of steel, but she didn't hear anything. She pressed her back into the solid wood and tried to keep her hands still. Disa leaned over, squinting in the early morning gloom, the camp beyond obscured in a tangle of vegetation. He was going to disappear like Roe and Grim and Nan. He was going to leave her alone here in a sea of flies and rot.
“Finn,” she quietly pleaded. She heard it then, a snap of twigs and the steady beat of feet on the forest floor. He flew past her and Disa wanted to call out but couldn't. Or maybe she did. Finn slid to a stop, slipping as he scrambled back and grabbed her hand.
“Run.”
Finn kept looking back as they ran but didn't see anyone following. He'd made a stupid mistake. He held her hand tighter and kept running. “Finn,” Disa gasped. “I can't…” She was breathing hard, struggling to keep up.
He looked over his shoulder again. “Just a little farther.”
They kept running, less concerned about noise and more concerned with distance. Stupid, stupid, stupid. They crashed through a small stream and Disa tripped. “Wait.” Disa slipped from his hand, bending over and leaning against a nearby rock. “Wait. Let me breathe. We can keep running,” she panted, “but I need a moment.”
Finn nodded, unable to speak himself. He crossed back through the stream and watched for any movement, but all was still. He sat on the bank and pulled the rucksack he'd filled at the camp from his shoulder, freeing the half empty water skin. “Here,” he offered to Disa.
She sat next to him, her eyes unfocused, and took it but didn't drink. He knew he was pushing her. She hadn't eaten or truly rested in days. “What happened?” she asked.
“Drink,” he pressed.
She took a perfunctory sip. “What happened?”
“I stopped to look at my brother’s tent. I wanted to make sure he hadn't left anything behind for me to find. It seemed normal enough. I grabbed a bag and threw some things we may need inside. Drink more.” Disa obeyed. “I saw a man when I came out. He was alone. He was kicking at the bodies and he had one of those broadswords. He was one of them, I knew it. He seemed to be alone so I picked up a bow and I shot him.”
Disa raised her eyebrows. “Did you miss him?”
He smiled reluctantly. “No.”
“Then why are we running?”
“He wasn't alone.”
Disa sighed and held out the water for him. He declined. “You haven't had anything to drink yet.” She shook the skin at him again.
He took a measured swallow and continued. “They were at the low camp, by the shore. They came running, but they hadn't seen what direction the arrow came from. Then we ran and now we're here.” Stupid. There could have been twice that many men in the ensconced in the woods as there were in the open, and he’d wanted to rush out and meet them anyway. He almost did, but then the look on Disa’s face as he shoved her away sprang into his mind. If he died, she died. He'd taken a stupid risk in a fit of vengeful anger.
“What now?” she asked.
I don't know. “Let's keep moving.”
They spent the better part of the morning following the creek south. The terrain was steep and grueling, and they weren't making very good time after the trials of the last few days. There were easier routes, footpaths and village roads, but until they knew who they could trust or what exactly they were going to do, Finn didn't want them to be spotted anywhere near the
camp. The incline they'd been climbing flattened suddenly into a small plateau, most of the space covered in a small pool from a falling stream, and Finn dropped the bag he'd been carrying. “Let's rest here.”
Disa groaned appreciatively and dropped at once, slowly walking her hands out until she was flat on her stomach. “Yes, please.”
“If you were tired, you could have told me.”
“I'm not tired,” she mumbled, her eyes closed and face drenched in sweat.
“Me either,” he agreed as he pulled off his boots and stuck his feet in water. He took the water and a small loaf of hard bread out of the sack and pulled it apart, but when tried to pass some to her, she didn't move. “Disa?” He wet his fingers in the pool and flicked them at her face. “Disa,” he said louder. Her eyes flickered open and glared malevolently at him before turning her head away. She was asleep again in moments. “Not tired,” he said lowly before lying back himself, the bread still in his hands.
Disa woke with a start, struggling through groggy confusion. She didn't know where she was. It was dark and quiet, the steady sound of water falling from the cliffs above drowning out any other sounds. She sat up and the nightmare she’d been having slowly receded. Nothing was on fire here.
Finn was sleeping, his mouth partially open. His feet were stuck in the water, pale and wrinkled in the setting sun. She remembered deciding to rest but had no idea how long they'd been asleep. They had to stop doing this. They had to stop losing time.
Disa made to rub the sleep in her eyes but jerked her head backwards automatically. Her hands reeked and there was black who knows what caked under her nails. The images of bruised and bloated bodies came to mind as Disa walked on her knees to the edge of the pool and scrubbed vigorously. At first she used the edge of her dress, but it was dirty, too, and smelled just as rotten, so she reached for a rock instead and scrubbed her hands until they were pink and raw. They stood out starkly from her arms and legs, and when she touched her face, her fingers came away with more grime and bits of peeling skin. With one last glance at Finn, she sneaked her fancy green overdress from the bag and stepped into the pool, the water barely covering her knees at its deepest. She stood under the thin waterfall, flinching at the sudden weight, and moved the rock over the rest of her body. She felt a grim satisfaction as the water clouded. It would be better to soak naked but she didn't dare with Finn so close.
When she was done, her hair sodden but smoke free, her limbs not coated in blood and filth, she crawled out the back of the pool, partially obscured by the falling water, and quickly stripped out of her now-grey underdress. She regretted not grabbing the purple apron to dry herself as she tugged the green garment over her head. The right sleeve was stained with blood at the cuff and she quickly rolled it up until it couldn't be seen. It was stiff from the seawater, but she was already feeling better.
When Finn awoke, she had laid her old clothes on a warm boulder and was happily munching on the small chunk of bread she’d found near Finn’s outstretched arm. “Hi,” she said with her mouth full. “We fell asleep.”
Finn sat up and frowned at the sky. “Is it night already?”
“It would seem so, yes.”
He shot her a sarcastic look as he pulled his feet from the water. “Well, at least they're clean,” he said as he ran his hands over his toes.
Disa took a long drink of water and then sighed contentedly. “You should eat.” Between the bath and the bread, the low buzzing in her head she hadn't known was there had ebbed away.
He broke off another piece of bread and handed it over. “Eat more.” Disa was going to protest, but he was already shedding his sword and pulling off his shirt as he waded into the pool to wash. She took a bite and averted her eyes.
It was the first time she'd seen him in any state of undress. His chest and stomach were defined, his muscles standing out in sloping ridges, and the ‘V’ of his abdomen was covered with a smattering of red-blonde hair that disappeared into the top of his trousers. His face may be unblemished and perfect, as Grim pointed out with disdain on more than one occasion, but the rest of him was covered with enough scars to make any warrior proud. Most were stab wounds, short raised lines like the one currently bound on his shoulder, but there were a few other interesting ones she couldn't quite place: a long even mark that wrapped up his right arm and a coarse, uneven one that stretched the entire length of his left side, from armpit to hip. Finn dropped underwater, his body too big to be completely submerged, his knees sticking out. He stayed that way long enough that Disa started to shift, a little worried he was going to drown if he didn't come up soon.
As if answering her unspoken question, Finn popped up stretching his arms above his head and wincing a little. “That's better,” he said as he rubbed the soaked bandage. “Now all we need is a fire.”
Disa scoffed. “I'm not running up or down this damned hill for kindling. You're welcome to, though, if you wish.”
He scoffed in return and lay back in the water, his body floating over the deepest point, and closed his eyes. Disa tried to resist, but her gaze kept dragging sideways to inspect him, his arms spread wide as if welcoming the attention. As long as the fabric covering his legs kept clinging the way it was, she wouldn't need a fire with a blush this fierce. She’d seen naked men her whole life. Her home butted the shore, and on more than one occasion had she peeked out the window to see boys storming into the freezing water clad in nothing but their own skin, a daring feat of strength that only the young would find impressive. But she'd grown up with the boys in town. They were her brothers, her friends. Finn was different. An unknown she was quickly coming to understand. Looking at his body meant something else. Disa forced herself to turn on the pretext of touching her dress to see if it was dry on its rock. It wasn't. Now what.
The unmistakable splashing sounds signaled Finn was clambering out of the pool, the water cascading loudly. He promptly dropped to the ground with an audible groan and reached out to pull his sword by his side once more. Disa chanced another look. Is he asleep already? She did her best imitation of him, splitting off a large piece of their rapidly shrinking loaf and shoving it under his nose. “Eat this.”
Finn peered at her from one squinting eye. “You--”
“If you tell me to eat this, I swear I'll stab that sword through your other shoulder.”
He considered for a moment before deciding not to test her. He took the food and sat up, drawing one knee to his chest and munching slowly as she bustled about, refilling their skins from the flowing waterfall. There wasn't much to do, though, and she soon found herself sitting across from him, her hands twisting in her lap.
“How much of this do we have left,” he asked, popping the last bite into his mouth.
“Not much.”
He nodded. “We’ll have to get back to the footpaths then. We’ll need to stop in a village soon.”
“Do you think it's safe?”
He shrugged. “We won't be able to outrun the gossip once people realize what happened. At least we don't look like we're fresh from battle anymore,” his fingers flicked up idly and Disa had to agree, running her hands over her damp hair, curling as it dried but thankfully free of soot and grime. Her braids were still a tightly woven crown but she didn't have the strength to undo them just now.
“I've never been this far south. Do you know where we are?”
“More or less. We’re somewhere north of Holmlond. Once we make our way back to the paths I should be able to find a runestone or familiar markings to show the way.”
“If they hadn't burned all the boats, we would be at your keep now, awaiting their slow return over land,” she grumbled.
“It's safer this way,” he assured her. “And we're going to need help.”
“Whose help?”
“I mean to stop in Holmlond. The last word I had about a man named Elrik put him there. He is a great Lawspeaker and a great friend.”
“And he can help you raise an army?”
/> “He can help us get justice. And when the bastards who murdered all those innocent people refuse to bow to what is right, then we use the army. With the law at our side, no one can claim us to be the usurpers. No amount of wealth can save them from the blade.”
Disa felt the hairs on her arm stand up. Finn was a quiet man, and, unlike Rurik, it took much prodding on her part to draw him into any sort of banter or conversation, but when he did speak...when he spoke it was important. “To Holmlond, then.”
Disa lay beside him, close but not touching, and looked at the stars. It was a clear night, and the absence of haze in the air made her feel safer, as if the last few days had never taken place. Her heart constricted. Where are you, Roe?
Finn awoke for the second time in as many days with Disa curled over him, her head on his stomach, his good arm wrapped under her chin, holding the back of her neck softly as if to keep her there. His heart skipped a beat, though he wasn't sure if it was surprise or pleasure or shame. Finn suspected a little of each. She is to be your sister, he scolded himself. His sister. His brother's bride, though not quite yet. He was being absurd. He was overthinking. She was family! Of course she was! She was family, and the nights were beginning to chill, an early winter blowing in no doubt. They moved together for warmth. He'll be sure they have a fire tomorrow night.
Finn placed her gently aside and rolled away. He made a quick inventory of what he'd managed to sweep from Rurik’s table before they ran: a loaf of bread, mostly eaten now, an extra skin of water, two shirts, and a spare dagger. It wasn't much, but there hadn't been time. He sighed. It'll have to do. He eyed the dagger that he’d pulled from the burned corpse on the shore a few feet off from where they’d slept. It was as if Disa had fallen asleep clutching it until turning to him at some point in the night.
Finn waited as long as he could before he tried to wake her. “Disa,” he said gruffly, unsure of how to do the deed. “Disa,” he repeated. It would probably be rude to nudge her with his boot, but he'd never woken a woman before. Was it supposed to be this difficult? He crouched down next to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Disa!” he spoke sharply, giving her a rattle for good measure. She shot forward, eyes wide, and surprised him. Unbalanced, he rocked back on his heels and she was pulling his sword from his sheath he’d left on the grass. He caught her wrist and spoke to her like a spooked horse. “Ok, now. It's ok. Let go.” He tightened his grip a little and pulled her hand back. “You're ok.”
Blood and Loyalty Page 10
