Freyas Saga Ch. 18

"But that's my job," he said.

"But you have turned down the money. It is no longer your job."

"Well," he said, "it's just what anyone would do."

"Anyone would not!" she exclaimed. "You didn't!"

"That was before I knew you!"

"Exactly!" she shouted.

He was silent.

"Likewise," she said to Dovid, "I cannot leave you unprotected, even if you abhor me."

"It is complicated," he said. "There is what the discipline of faith commands us to abhor a sinner, but it always must be tempered by mercy."

"Is that in your Book?" she demanded.

"Well," he hesitated, "it's in the commentary."

"No, gentlemen," she said, "no quibbling. Face facts. We are not three people who just happen to be travelling in the same direction. For better or for worse ..."

She let it hang in the air.

"Some friendship," said Dovid, "where we have all the responsibilities, and none of the joys."

Carfryn eyed him, and licked her split lip.

"Don't blame me," she said quietly. "You're the one who struck me because I wanted my brother."

Dovid wrapped one arm around himself and used the other one to stroke his beard.

Owyn rubbed his eyes and let out a grunt of frustration.

"All right," he said. "As the oldest in the room, I've had more friendships than either of you, and I can tell you both, this is the strangest. But, fuck it. I don't know what else to call it. And as such, I'm gonna do what friends do when they convene. And I care not whether you want to join me, but as your friend, I'm gonna ask you to join me, 'cos that's the sort of friend I am."

He pulled his liquor flask from the pile of his gear near the rug. He got up, found two small cups and filled them, then took them both back to the young woman and the young man sitting on the floor. He handed one to each. They stared at him, but accepted them.

He looked them both in the eye.

"Carfryn of Hargest, Dovid Berman," he said, raising his flask, "you don't like me, and I don't like you. But I will defend you in word and deed, as long as you swear to do as much for me."

"This goes against my faith in ways that I cannot begin to explain," said Dovid uneasily.

"Sssh," said Carfryn, and turned to Owyn.

"Owyn Durberry," she said, "you and I know where we stand, and where I think we will always stand. But as long as you never again do to another what you did to me, and in all but that respect, I will defend you in word and deed, as you defend me."

"What do you mean, 'in all but that respect'?" he said uneasily.

"I will never pretend that what you did to me was justified, or that I was not and am not scarred by it," she said. "But ... I see no reason why it must be the first thing anyone learns about you and I. I will not hide it, but nothing good can come of sharing it with everyone. An evil star ruled over the hour of our meeting, but I have picked at my wounds for too long, and we can only be useful to each other if we let the past be the past."

They looked each other in the eye, and he wondered at her fierce, unflinching gaze.

"I thank you for that consideration," he said. "You know you've nothing more to fear from me. I'll keep my oath."

They looked at Dovid. He picked up his cup.

"I find you both beyond redemption by the text of the Book," he said, "but even in that despite, I will defend you in word and deed, as you defend me."

They took a moment, and drank.

"Right," said Owyn, wiping his mouth and putting down his cup. Carfryn touched the red welt on her neck and winced.

"How does that feel," Owyn said.

"How does it look?"

"Bloody terrible."

"That's how it feels."

Carfryn paced to the window and looked out at the night, and turned back to them.

"I have been leading us," she said, "and as such, I have taken us nowhere but into folly. I have been a bad leader. If any of you wish to lead in my place, please say so."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"It's you," Owyn said. "Sorry."

Dovid nodded. Carfryn sighed.

"Very well."

She walked over to the table and picked up the severed rope. She tossed it to Owyn.

"I propose," she said, "that since we cannot go back to Hargest with any hope to defend me from the anger of my people, that we do not attempt to find out what happened to my brother. Someone has told lies about me and destroyed my name. Whoever it is, is too strong for us three to take on."

"Seconded," said Dovid.

"Vote," said Owyn. They all held their hands up. "So agreed," he said. "What do you suggest we do instead?"

"I will have to pass as someone else," she said. "I will give that some thought. In the meantime, I see now the task I should have undertaken all along."

"Don't keep us waiting all night," Owyn said.

"I think Siegfa was killed because he knew or suspected something about the death of Freya Aelfrethe. He said that the story that was told about it in Hargest was not true to what had actually happened. He had talked to his superiors about it. I think one of them knew something, and did not want him asking so many questions."

"But what did actually happen?" said Dovid.

"I do not know," Carfryn said. "The only thing that we know for certain is that Freya Aelfrethe never returned from that mission. I propose that we finish what my brother could not finish."

They looked at her. She nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I propose that we find out what happened to Freya."

*****

Freya stood by the wall and motioned to Five to do the same. Five grabbed Merion and placed her behind her.

"Stay there," she said.

"What is it?" asked the girl in a small scared voice.

It came around the corner.

It was a thing of spines and feathers, with long claws and a long sharp beak and tiny black eyes, more than two of them, and it screeched as it saw them, its beak clacking noisily. Freya raised her sword, and the thing went for her.

Freya swung and dodged, and the bird-thing squawked as a cloud of feathers fluttered to the passage floor. Five could see Freya gritting her teeth as the dusty, stinking feathers settled on her - the bird-thing stank of things trapped and decaying. She swung again and the bird-thing made another squawk as it tried to rake her with its claws. It pulled back its head on its long neck, and closed its bill so that the bill became a stabbing weapon, and Five opened her mouth to warn Freya, but Freya was looking up at it through the cloud of feathers and corpse dust, and when the bird-thing lunged at her she snarled and swung, her sword battering the bird's bill aside. Angry, it shook its head and stabbed again, a claw trying to stab Freya's leg, but she swung again and this time her blade got lodged in the bill.

Freya yelled at the creature, a wordless cry of hate, and twisted the sword around, forcing the bird's head over until it was almost upside-down, before the blade came free and took half the bird's upper bill with it.

The bird shrieked, an appalling sound in the enclosed space, and it clacked its bill, the lower part protruding a good foot and a half beyond the broken upper part. Freya took a step back, pointing the sword at the bird, and Five put her arm on the trembling girl who was huddling behind her and whimpering. The bird flapped its wings hysterically and then extended them and stared down balefully at Freya, clearly aiming to frighten her.

Freya smirked at it, swung her blade around her head for momentum and cut downwards.

The blade smashed with an audible crunching sound into the upper bone of the bird's left wing, breaking it. The wing dangled and the bird hopped, shrieking. It lunged at Freya who dodged it, but the edge of the bird's bill scraped her bald head and Freya twirled away from it, hefting her sword and glaring at the bird, which stumbled back.

They faced each other for a moment, then the bird extnded its neck and screamed into Freya's face, with an ear-splitting KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Five had to cover her ears and she squinted, watching Freya stare back at it, grimacing, her eyes narrowed to slits at the terrible weight of sound battering into her.

Then Freya slashed with the sword at the bird's outstretched neck, and its scream was cut off in mid-cry. It stumbled, and she hacked again, each time deeper. Black blood squirted on the wall and on Freya.

The bird sagged, its neck half-severed, and it crashed headlong, flapping desperately as its lifeblood sprayed out of the wound. Freya looked down at it, dispassionate, and gave it one last blow, cutting the neck completely.

Then there was just silence, save for Freya's breathing, and the dwindling hiss of black blood which slowed to a trickle.

Freya stared at the thing for a moment, disgusted, then looked up at Five.

Five nodded, and Freya nodded back. She came over to them, and Five knelt and turned around.

Merion was still shaking, but staring at the dead, nightmarish bird-thing.

"You all right, little one?" said Five.

"Yes," said Merion. She looked up at Freya, who stood looking down at her.

"Your head's cut," she said.

Freya reached up and touched the blood coming from the gash on her scalp.

"Nothing," she whispered.

"You saved us," said Merion. Freya glanced over her shoulder at the bird-thing's corpse.

"A stupid thing."

"Good job, though," said Five softly. Freya shot her a glance, and from the minute nod of gratitude Freya gave her, Five guessed that Freya was playing down how hard the thing had been to defeat, so as not to frighten the girl.

Good, lady, well done.

"Well," she said, "told you. This is the greatest warrior of the age. Not going to let some bird thing stop her."

Freya looked up the corridor into the darkness and motioned for them to stay still. She listened hard, then turned to Five.

"Get her out," she said.

Five nodded and smiled at Merion.

"All right," she said, "it's not safe for you here, so I'm going to get you out, and what I want you to do is tell the guard outside that there's some sorcery at work in here, all right?"

"But how are we going to get out?" said the girl.

"We got in," said Five, "we can get out again." She glanced up at Freya, who did her best to give the girl a reassuring smile, although with her shaven, bloodied scalp and snake tattoo it didn't exactly have the proper effect.

"Will you stay with me outside?" said the girl.

"No," said Five, "I can't. I have to stay in here and help sort this out. But we're gonna do it, don't fret."

"I'm scared," said the girl in a small voice.

"You're right to be," said Five. "It's bloomin' dangerous in here. But you've got this far, so you've done really well. Now, will you come with me and we'll get you outside where it's safe?"

"All right," said Merion. She looked at Freya. "Thank you," she said, and gave a small curtsey.

Freya inclined her head slightly.

Five got up and took Merion's hand.

"You're staying here?" she said. Freya nodded.

"You'll be all right?" Five said levelly. Freya smirked.

"Good luck," said Merion.

"Yeah," said Five. "Good luck."

Freya nodded to them and watched them go. When they had gone round the corner, she resumed looking into the darkness ahead, listening.

She heard the footsteps long before she saw him. Whatever it is can see me, in any case, she thought; I stand here in my own circle of light, waiting for the next thing to come out of the dark.

A man in dusty, torn clothes stumbled out of the darkness. His face was cut, not too badly, and his hair was wild. He gaped at Freya and came up to her.

"Where do you come from?" he demanded. "What is this? Are you one of its snares?"

She shook her head no.

"Speak to me," he said. "Who are you?"

"You first," she whispered.

"Why do you whisper?" he said, brushing the dust off his robe, then he looked behind her and saw the corpse of the bird-thing.

"You slew it?" he said. She nodded.

"Then you are a fighter indeed. My name is Duncan. I am of the council. Who are you? Are you come to deliver us of the worm?"

She nodded.

"You do not speak?" he said.

She shook her head no.

"You are wise. It is a cunning thing, very cunning, and it can trap a man's words and twist them. I myself only got away through luck. How many of you are there?"

"Of me," she whispered, "but one."

"I mean of your company," he said. "Surely you have not come alone?"

She regarded him suspiciously.

"Questions."

"Of course I ask questions! You would too, if you had been gulled the way we have been! This thing is smarter than us all. It is always ahead of us."

"Tell me all," she said, still holding her sword in her hand, watching him warily.

"How it got in, I know not," he said, "but it was soon in the pantry, eating until the shelves were bare. Then it started on dogs and cats, and then horses. We sent guards against it, but it roasted a man alive. We had no option but to make a room for it and to keep feeding it, but it soon outgrew the room."

He paused and peered at Freya's neck.

"What is that?" he said.

Startled, she touched her neck and looked down and saw it.

Something moving under the skin.

It came back to her, the terrible feeling she'd had after the worm when she'd felt those things inside her. But this was not in her stomach or womb, something that could be washed from her. It was in her own flesh.

She shivered as she looked at it. It moved swiftly up her collarbone and over her shoulder and down her right arm.

"Has it infected you?" he said. "My god! You must cut it out! The same happened to one of our guards, and what became of him was an abomination!"

She looked up at him. She could feel it in her arm, tickling, feeling around for something. It was a shape beneath the skin like a long centipede. She stared at her arm, revolted, and sheathed her sword with left hand, then felt for her knife.

"Cut it out!" he urged her. "It is the only way! Cut it!"

She took her knife off her belt and stared at the thing moving under her skin, poising the knife above it, clenching her arm to squeeze the thing so it would stay still.

"What are you waiting for?" he said. "Cut it out!"

Something in his tone made her glance up at him. And she saw it: the greed in his face as he waited for her to cut herself. To do what he wanted her to do.

She looked at the thing in her arm again. It was still. She unflexed her arm and it twitched. She didn't feel a thing. She sheathed her knife and looked at him again.

"Why have you stopped?" he cried. "You have to cut it out!"

She shook her head no, and he stared back at her.

She grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. He fought for breath and she held him there, pinned.

"Why?" she said.

"It is within you!" he gasped, his voice all of a sudden curiously hollow. "You have to cut it out!"

"Liar."

She pulled him away from the wall and slammed him against it again, the back of his head thudding against the stone. She looked at her arm, and the thing had gone. There was no itch or movement or hint of it ever having been there.

He looked at her arm and at her, and she saw the loathing in his face.

"Sorcery?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said. She shook her head no.

"Tricks," she spat, and slammed him against the wall again. "The bird?"

"It was mine," he gasped. "Primitive, but useful."

"Name."

"You wouldn't know it."

She was holding him by the throat not so tight that he couldn't breathe, but tight enough to discourage him from doing anything silly. He gave her a smile.

"What do you do here?" she whispered to him.

"Too many questions," he said, and she felt a stabbing pain in her shoulder. She reached with her other hand to grab his left wrist, which he'd brought up, and he dropped what he'd been holding, a small glass tube with a plunger at one end and a fine steel needle at the other.

Immediately she felt herself stiffening, and her grip on him weakened. He slid out of her grasp and her legs felt weak and shaky.

She blinked. Everything was glowing with a kind of intense radiance. Everything seemed very present. The air was crackling. Her brain was on fire. She sank to her knees and looked up at him.

He raised his hands to his face and did something, touching his temples, and when he spoke again his voice was natural once more.

"There's something I need you for," he said. "You and that clod of a girl, and the child. That's the only reason you're not dead now. I have no intention of telling you what, so don't expect to find out."

Freya fell on one side, her panic rising as her vision clouded over, thinking only No, no, I must not be weak, I need to save them, I cannot do this now, no ...

"That's it," he said. "Have a rest."

She stared up at him, helpless, trying to think - what had he done to his face? Had he ... why had his voice changed?

She tried to grasp what it had meant but she could no longer see, and the darkness was flooding her head. She gave a low whimper as it rolled over her.

He looked down at her. Her eyes had rolled back in her head and she was convulsing. He leaned over, picked up the fragments of glass and metal and placed them carefully in his pocket. He watched her heels drumming against the floor. He waited until she was fully unconscious and then he knelt by her body.

He saw the top edge of the tattoo on the side of her neck. Curious, he opened her tunic and then unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her skin. His eyes followed the lines of men as they marched down towards death. He inspected the little signs and symbols buried in the picture, and wondered what, if anything, they meant.

A fine-looking woman. He opened her shirt further, looked up, listened, and then reached down again, unlaced her breeches and slid them down her legs.

He took in her body with his eyes. She had scars, but she was tall and well-muscled.

Potentially useful. She would of course have to be changed.

He heard a noise down the corridor, and quickly pulled the woman's breeches up and laced them, and closed her shirt. He rolled her onto her side and closed most of the buttons. The woman was limp and unresponsive, her eyes half-open but dull. Drool came from her mouth.

Odd how it affects them all differently. He had been fairly sure that on one of her size and power, it wouldn't kill, but how odd that it should cause her to have a fit.

He heard footsteps and concentrated. Yes, the other one. He remembered, and got himself ready.

***

They went back down until they got to the door, and then they were back in the wood-panelled room. Five walked over to the other exit, which led to the Night Walk. As they neared it, Merion dragged her feet and Five looked at her: she was pale and trembling.

"We have to go through the Night Walk?" she said.

"Yeah," said Five. "Don't worry, you saw yourself, it doesn't really hurt you."

"But it still hurts," said Merion.

"There's no other way," said Five. "Not that I know of."

"I don't want to get hurt," Merion whined.

"Girl," Five said, "we can go this way or you could get killed. I'm just sayin'. Look, all right."

She took Merion and placed the girl before her, and hunched over her, to protect her with her own bodies from the blows that would land on them.

"I'll take the hitting as much as I can," she said, "but we have to get through this bit. Then we can get you out, all right?"

She looked the girl in the eye. Come on, come on, can't leave her by herself, just let's do this.

"I need you to be brave," she said. "Can you do that for me? Can you be a big brave girl for me?"