Between Mortals and Makers

by Tyranni Thomas

  I met Alexavier at the edge of his yard, still gnawing on my lip because I hadn’t found anything to make it all work. My brows nearly leapt from my head when I noticed a tiny pile of scrap metal.

  “May I?” I asked. He studied my face before slowly following the direction of my index finger.

  “Of course, it is rubbish, to be melted down later.”

  “Bait…” I said it like a curse. The sausage wouldn’t be enough to draw anything, even if it wasn’t cooked. A splash sounded around the corner, and the neighbor’s wife trudged back toward her home with bloodstained hands.

  “Let it be…wait, could it be?” I whispered praying fervently to the Goddess. I placed my hand on the large tree stump and peered around the corner. A pile of intestines and a few bones lay discarded. A few stray dogs were fighting over the mess of it.

  “No!” I gasped. Alexavier charged fearlessly past me.

  “Hay-ah! Shoo...shoo.” He hissed. He backed them away long enough for me to salvage a bit of the tissue. A piece of liver caught my eye, and I almost cried with relief.

  “Got it!” I exclaimed with enough enthusiasm to embarrass myself.

  We left the hounds to their breakfast and started back toward the forest line. As we surrendered to the thick bushy abyss, I stuffed the shards of metal into the strainer contraption and wedged the bigger pieces until they formed a gaping lid. As we walked, I tested the vines until one proved fibrous and sturdy.

  It was hacked free and worked until it could be formed into a leash for the leech trap.

  “You’ve done this before,” Alexavier observed.

  I nodded absently, before feeling rude for having done so. “Yes. Cairn had me do the stuff that couldn’t really be fucked up.”

  The moment the words left my mouth I was flushing again. His piercing sea colored eyes missed nothing, and his knowing smile only encouraged my lack of grace. He had a strong jaw and full lips that made me stare at them every time I tried to speak to him, so I did my best to stay focused on the sound of splashing water ahead.

  There was no crunch of leaves, no shadow to foretell of a human presence; only the sudden sound of Thane’s voice beside us. “They aren’t biting,” he said.

  I nearly jumped into Alexavier’s arm. The bucket swirled violently and clanked against my leg with enough noise to have ruined the man’s hope for hunting. His attention travelled between me and Alexavier before he tilted his head up and brought it down into a heavy, nod.

  “I’ll leave you both to it then.” He smirked, leaving my cheeks to flame beneath his unspoken insinuation.

  Alexavier

  I loved watching Thane interact with women. It was a rush and a comedy all at once. He had something about him that seemed to pique their curiosity just enough for them to forget how offensive he could be. Of course, Thane being Thane, he always threw the armor on and shoved them away when it was over.

  She was clearly not entirely comfortable being alone with me, and yet that ass hat insisted on picking those parting words. I wanted to pick up the first stone I found and hurl it at him. Instead, I shook my head apologetically and stumbled up the hill after her.

  Thane was an amazing tracker. He could hunt better than anyone in the village back home. He moved through the forest the way a fish did water. Soundlessly, effortlessly, and without evidence that he had ever been there at all. I had no such skill; I crunched and snapped everything in a ten-foot radius. Most of my wooded adventures usually ended with half the forest floor being brought home on my ass. Which is why, I preferred the predictability of the forge.

  The sun glistened over the surface of the water, bringing me to a still at the crest of the last hill. I loved water. Mother once said, that as a youngin’, I often wouldn’t part with my bath water until it was cold. Back home, I preferred to sit on the bank with my thoughts after the sun had gone down, so it was exactly what I did while Zhenni set her trap and sank it into the water.

  She wiped her hands on her dress and made her way toward me. I shifted and patted the ground for her to share the support of the tree. She settled next to me without a word and began to smooth her sleeves.

  “Do you enjoy it,” I asked her, “healing, that is?”

  She tucked her arms around her knees and brought them to her chest. Her attention remained somewhere over the water, preventing me from seeing her the way I wanted to. I fought the urge to tip her chin my way. Her demeanor still screamed of uncertainty. She turned, and I realized the water wasn’t the only thing that could reflect the beauty of the world. Her eyes were amber pools with sparks of brilliant gold. I was captivated by them, even more so when they abruptly dropped to my mouth.

  I wouldn’t touch it. I wouldn’t scare her, I promised myself.

  The sound caused her sultry gaze to snap back to my own. The heavy-lidded stupor caused her head to drift toward mine, until her senses raced back to her.

  “I enjoy it when the healing is successful,” she muttered, shaking her head and smoothing her sleeves once more.

  “Do you fear your efforts with my mother will not be so?”

  “I have heard of a sickness spread by insects. Mosquitos,” she suggested quietly. “If it is such an illness, we are better to have spent our time seeking the Goddess’ favor than brewing potions.”

  The way she spoke of her Goddess fascinated me. Many people were dedicated to their deities, but something struck me as odd in her addresses over the past few days.

  “Which Goddess should I start with?” I found myself asking her. A person’s choice often revealed much about them and the way they viewed things. Her posture went rigid and she rolled her neck, staring back out across the water once again.

  “I am not of your people, but I can still heal as good as the next.” she uttered, rather defensively. I wasn’t sure what I had said to upset her, or what she meant by her answer. Reflecting on it only served to widen the awkward silence that had lodged between us, but I couldn’t leave it be.

  “My people? I am not of these lands, you are not of these lands… what difference does that make on our ability to heal each other while we build on this soil?” I pointed out.

  She glared at me and set her jaw.

  “I didn’t mean anything by…” I began.

  “I am sorry. Men refused to let me treat them in Olaf’s Fjord. They said I would poison them, or that I wouldn’t hold enough favor to…” Her voice trailed off and she briefly hung her head. It was only a split of a second, but for that moment, I saw the burden she carried. The stress and struggles that were not by rights hers to bear.

  “Einar hasn’t been home since the Galena gathering?” I knew the answer, even before she shook her head.

  “I was born in a place that wasn’t always under Saxon influence. My mother worshipped the old Gods and Goddesses… My… my real mother,” she whispered.

  I wasn’t sure what to say to her. I had heard tales of Domhain. Domhain the Profane. He had a penchant for stealing women and raising them to be his own. A lot of warriors had vicious tales floating around about them, though, so I’d never thought too much of it. The man was always the first called on in times of war. His axe knew no bounds. The Gods showered him with favor, so the idea that the stories might be true, paralyzed me momentarily, and made me question everything I had ever used to measure a man.

  “Domhain stole you…” I asked, once I managed to find my voice. She nodded in silence once again.

  “Cairn is the reason I am here. Her weakness and mercy. She begged Dom not to drown me in the raid seasons or leave me outside in the winter. He would tell me this so often, I will never forget it. She is the reason I am here. I am the reason she suffered.” She repeated the words in a voice that was distant and monotone. I had no doubt it was indeed beat into her head. Disgusted, I put my arm around her and hauled her to my side in a brotherly embrace.

  “It is good that he is gone,” I said simply before absently adding. “May the Gods show Cairn’s gentle soul favo
r. She was a good woman. One any man would have been honored to have as his own.”

  The settling of my arm had turned her to stone, but the words I offered over her second mother slowly relaxed her. The weight of her head began to balance against the crook of my shoulder, and I snuggled her in when the breeze began to blow.

  It carried a honeysuckle scent from her hair that made me sigh contently atop her. I could see why Thorne was so smitten with her and I knew at once why he was so determined to look out for her. She was a good woman, capable of weathering the storms, just as any natural born Viking woman.

  “My real mother used to tell me I carried the Goddess’ favor. She said she had visions of a babe with eyes of brazen gold, long before I was born. A babe who would change the world.” She laughed sardonically. “I can’t even change the firewood when I’m supposed to.”

  My hand rubbed the gooseflesh from her arms and I tipped my head in thought. “You’ve been stuck in a nightmare since Zaphori left. Those children have been trapped in such a world their whole lives. Perhaps to them, you have changed everything. Taught them how to survive without him. How to cope and help one another. You taught them that there are people who can be trusted and counted on. That there is a community beyond Einar and the shadows he casts.”

  We sat there in thought until the sun began to pass the midpoint. She quietly and gracefully stood up and trailed back to the bank. I followed her down and watched on as she pulled the line in. Two or three leeches clung to the outside of the cannister. She used a stick to pry the holey metal top off and beamed at the catch. A few handfuls of leeches remained in the bottom, squirming around the chunk of liver.

  We wasted no time in getting back. I stopped long enough to wash my hands in the water bowl, before following Zhenni to the back room.

  I’d never seen them applied, but she made it look easy. My skin crawled as I watched the little beasties did their trick. They wiggled briefly before attaching to whatever was closest. They started out as thin little strings, but soon gorged to the size of a woman’s finger. Only then, did Zhenni pick them off, one by one.

  I knew the day would come when I would be expected to do it on my own. Something just told me that Thorne and Thane would have no part in the slimy affair. Even so, I felt like begging when the day finally came almost a week later.

  “She grows stronger, her eyes even shudder now and again,” Zhenni insisted. “I should go home and stay the night with the children. Surely Thane is tired of singing to them at night.”

  “Yes. Let her go,” Mother’s hoarse voice grated from behind us. “It is her that caused all this. Cursed are we who share soil with the likes of her. Get her out of my home!”

  My mouth gaped, and I turned about, twisted with shock and yet, relieved all at once. Mother was awake, but damned if she wasn’t straight back to her sour ways.

  “She’s right, I should go,” Zhenni mumbled quietly. She carefully made her way around me. She seemed ashamed and made little eye contact as she passed.

  “Zhenni,” I called, but she was already gone.

  Thane

  “What the fuck…” I stammered, as Zhenni barreled past him.

  “It is I who should be asking you three witless wonders such a question,” Mother heralded from the back of the cabin.

  “I liked it better when she was babbling bullshit,” I groaned before turning to leave the same way I had come. I wasn’t in the mood for her antics.

  “Thane…” Zhenni cried, running across the path. The shudder in her voice made my heart skip. She met me at the door with tears streaming down her face. “Thane… the children...”

  She tried to tell me what had happened, but all I could comprehend between her sniffling was that the children were missing.

  “You see? I told you. No business. That girl has no business watching children,” Mother crowed.

  I threw my arm around Zhenni and grabbed a few furs from the rack before slamming the door behind us. She was shivering, so I wrapped a fur around her before donning one myself.

  “Go with Thane, he could track the wind itself,” Thorne encouraged. “I will go down to the market area and check all the stores and question the other children.”

  She nodded rapidly, and I grabbed for her hand. Our fingers tangled together until her trembling channeled through the embrace. I pumped her hand with my own and pointed to the undisturbed footprints in the dirt. They were small, childlike, and heading toward the forest.

  “We have to hurry,” she urged, her voice ebbing with panic and hopelessness. I wanted to smother her in reassurance, to return the peace of mind she had afforded us the past few days, but there wasn’t time for it. It was dark, there were animals out there at night, and if one didn’t know their direction, it wasn’t hard to fall or end up in one of the many lakes.

  My own adrenaline began to take over. My chest burned with the deep breaths of cool evening air while my mind raced with the many things I wanted to do to Einar. Worthless fuck that he was.

  I stooped down and tilted my head, listening intently to the sounds of the night. The echoes on the wind, for anything really that might give us a clue of direction. She shook my sleeve, her face a mask of terror and tears pooling in her eyes. Birds erupted from the trees ahead, and she broke out in a sob.

  “We have to find them. You don’t understand. You don’t know what happens when children are taken from home!”

  “No one has taken them. They’re ahead, something startled the animals.” I gave her hand another squeeze and stood up, leading her deeper into the forest. Though I could shake the chill, I couldn’t shake her words.

  “Something happened to you… and you don’t want it to happen to them?” I asked.

  Her eyes flashed with anger and indignation, it passed in a blink and she nodded. “Domhain…” she began, but it was all she had to say. I had raided with Domhain and knew well of his past before Cairn.

  “I know. I knew him before your mother.”

  She went rigid and looked at me like we had just met for the first time.

  “He was a deadly warrior, but that didn’t make him a good person. You’re stronger than he was. Stronger than any he laid eyes on. You survived the fucker... Not too many that can say that.” I laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was an odd twist of fate. One the bastard had coming. No man alive could have killed Domhain the Profane… which meant there was only one person who could have been responsible for the warrior’s demise.

  The woman he shared home and hearth with.

  It all made sense. In that one moment, I knew why Domhain the Profane had died. And I also knew more than I could have learned in a lifetime of that girl telling me her secrets.

  “Zhenni!” a shrill voice called from atop the hill ahead.

  Zhenni curled into me and gave the tightest hug of my life before running off to embrace the young ones.

  It was good that Domhain was dead. I would have killed the fucker in ways even a sadist such as he couldn’t have dreamed of.

  Chapter Seven

  The Hard Way

  Zhenni

  They were intimidating at first glance, but once I scratched the surface, I found that each of the three brothers had more heart than they cared to acknowledge. For all my efforts to stay alert and at the ready, they melted my tension away. As the days went on, I felt as if I had known them my whole life, and I couldn’t help but notice the way fate continued to weave us together. Where one of us faltered, the other prevailed and carried. A sense of belonging and hope blossomed within me during that walk back to the cabin.

  It lasted until I saw Einar’s towering form pacing up and down the length of the yard. Neighbors gathered near the edges of the pathway, whispering amongst themselves. Thorne was perched with one boot planted on the ground, and the other balancing him against the stump. Alexavier stood beside him glaring across the distance at Einar.

  The moment he saw us, he shook his shaggy head and waved a fist in the
air.

  “You ain’t fit to watch a flea. Where the hell have my children been, woman?” He stormed toward me. Every fiber of my being froze in preparation of the assault to come. There was nothing to grab, and I feared if I moved, he might be provoked to go after the easier target. The children.

  I glanced up in time to see Thane rush toward him. Confusion rung over Einar’s face and he back peddled.

  “Well, come on then,” Thane barked. His shirt was ripped off with the same angry technique he skinned squirrels with. He bent protectively, doubled his fist and swayed like a snake preparing to strike.

  “No…” I couldn’t even find my voice—it might as well have been a whisper.

  The growing audience rippled with gossip, judgement, and bets. Alrik, the youngest of the Elders, stepped from the shadows. His eyes burned with rage, but he resigned to huffing and cursing when he noticed Thorne and Alexavier. The pair made their way toward the confrontation. Thorne’s aggressive eye contact left Alrik squirming where he stood. He snorted and flashed a brief lopsided smirk toward the elder before cutting his eyes toward Alexavier.

  I had no idea what they were up to, but the conspiratorial laughs that Alrik’s glance had warranted was enough to have me doing a mental inventory of my medical supplies.

  Einar hadn’t moved from his place of retreat. But those who were gathered behind him were bright enough to have given the soon-to-be brawlers their space.

  “You make a lot of noise for a man who is really no man at all,” Thorne taunted. Whisper’s applauded him, but he wasn’t finished. “You are a man who would see his woman off on a voyage alone. A man who saw his children left in the hands of a stranger. A young, grieving woman who was clueless of how to make her own way. Instead of welcoming her to your home and hearth, you took advantage of her grief and goodness. You are no better than the leeches, gorging yourself on whatever is wounded enough for you to latch onto.”