Freyas Saga Ch. 20

Do you want me to say sorry? I'll say it if you want. I'll do whatever you want, if it'll make you feel better.

Or do you want me to be sorry?

Do you want me to be somebody else?

Do you want me to go back to being someone you're not scared of?

She blinked, and realised that the whole mass of people staring at her was swimming before her eyes. Somebody was coughing. Not coughing. Something else. Sort of gasping for breath.

Somebody get that person some air. Seriously.

Then she realised it was her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, an arm around her. She looked to her right. Freya was standing next to her.

Five wiped her eyes and when her vision cleared she realised that everyone was staring at her with horror.

What? she thought. Have I still got blood on me? Did my jaw open up?

She touched her own face and was mortified to find that her nose was running like a river and she'd snotted all over her lips and chin. She rubbed it on her sleeve. Freya gave her an encouraging squeeze and whispered in her ear.

"Tell them," she said. "We hope you enjoy the peace and security that we have restored to your city."

"We hope you enjoy," said Five, and her voice sounded cracked and awful, "the peace and security that we have restored to your city."

"We are proud to have served you."

"We're proud to have served you."

"But we need rest."

"But we need rest," Five said. She looked at the faces of the people closest to them and one or two of the women were weeping. It was bloody embarrassing.

"As you can see," she added, and one of the weeping women managed to crack a smile.

"Long live the city."

"Long live the city," said Five, her voice giving out on the last word, and there was a long silence.

Then they all started to clap, and they stood up, and the clapping became deafening and the noise hurt Five's aching head, but she and Freya remained a moment, then Freya firmly turned her and they walked out of the room.

Freya walked her down a corridor and they kept going, past guards who saluted them, until they found a quiet chamber with a wooden door. Freya and Five went in and Freya kicked the door shut behind her and then turned to Five and put her arms around her and held her, and Five buried her face in Freya's shoulder and let herself go.

They stood like that for a very long time.

***

Later on, much later, they were in the girl Merion's house. The girl's father, Guyam, had made good on his promise. He had been a soldier once, and his wife Marie a healer, and they each recognised in Five the signs of one who had seen too much blood too soon. They welcomed she and Freya in, and gave them a room with a bed, and had them sit by the fire in quiet.

A little later, Five sat at the table with a blanket around her shoulder and ate soup. It was very good soup. She could taste it. Merion was telling her father for the hundredth time what had happened in the chamber.

"And Five took me into the Night Walk, and we got such a beating, dadda, it was so horrible, but she protected me and she took most of it herself, and then later on, when she saw through all the magic, it was wonderful what she did, dadda. She saw through all that wizard's tricks."

"I can't help thinking," said Guyam, "that a wizard whose tricks can be seen through is no wizard. Isn't true wizardry meant to be unbeatable?"

Freya nodded. She had finished her soup and was sipping a goblet of wine. Marie came through from the kitchen wiping her hands.

"So what do you think he was?" said Guyam. "This boy with his tricks."

Freya shrugged.

"Sounds like if it wasn't for him, the chamber guard wouldn't have been turned to the bad," he said.

"Don't waste too many tears on the chamber guard," said Marie. "Most of them were pets of the Provost. Members of his family and such. On feast days you get to hold a spear and wear a shiny hat, and the rest of the time it's standing around and farting."

Merion laughed.

"I would ask where you come from, friends," said Guyam, "but I think that if you wanted us to know, you would already have said. But wherever it is, if they produce women of such valour as you, I can only wonder what your men are like."

"Typical man," said Marie to them. "It does not occur to him that you might be more valorous than the men."

Freya smiled and Merion hooted and clapped.

"A fair point," Guyam said. "I happily withdraw it. I take it that you must be soldiers?"

Five looked at Freya. Freya looked back at her, challenging her to admit it.

"We are," said Five, and went back to eating her soup.

"Well, for skill and boldness you surpass any in this city, I must say," he said. "But you have understand that Venceborn was hardly touched by the war. We are traders, not conquerors. When the king's peace was announced, many didn't realise that there had been a war on at all. Did you fight in the war?"

Freya nodded. Five remained silent.

"What did you do if you didn't fight?" said Merion.

"Cook," said Five.

"You were a cook?" said Guyam. "So when did you first take up arms?"

Everyone looked at her. She wished they wouldn't. She wished they'd change the subject.

"Today," she said softly.

"Today?" said Guyam, thunderstruck. "This was your first combat?"

Five nodded.

"How did she acquit herself?" he said to Freya.

Freya looked over at Five and their gazes met.

"I am proud of her," Freya said.

"So you should be," said Marie, drawing Merion to her, "for she saved our girl."

She went over to Five and knelt before her, taking her cold hands.

"Whatever else," she said, "take comfort in that. I know fighting is a shock to a gentle soul, but you did a good deed and we will always be grateful."

"Thank you," said Five.

It was no comfort at all.

***

Five carefully peeled the clothes from her bruised, bandaged body. Freya had already undressed and was lying on her back in the bed, her eyes closed but not yet asleep. Five turned so that the candlelight shone on her body, and she examined herself.

God's wounds, I am battered. Bruises on the stomach and chest. My breast still tender from where that bastard punched me. My hands: raw and cut. My jaw throbbing from the gash he gave me, and a black scab on my brow where I butted his mask.

She inspected the bandage they'd put on her left hand. The first, second and third fingers were bandaged together into one big wedge-like paw, to help her fingertip heal.

I'm going to look bloody lovely in the morning.

She pulled back the cover and slipped into bed beside Freya. What a luxury, twice in one fortnight to sleep in a bed next to a warm body. Freya was less bruised and cut than she was but she looked spent; she was pale with exhaustion and one arm was outflung on the covers.

Five pulled the cover up. She was drowsy and aching. Freya slid her left arm around her and she leaned into Freya's warmth. Wine had helped. She had drunk a lot and it didn't seem to have much effect other than dulling the pain, and she was less able to see the faces.

She lay there in silence for a long time. Then Freya detached herself, got up on one elbow, blew out the candle and the room went dark.

***

Freya lay back again, feeling the girl's body against her own. Five was silent. Freya turned her head and looked at the girl's dark profile in the dim moonlight from the window.

"Five."

"Mm."

"In Memika, Sophy taught me something."

"Mm."

"After an ordeal, it helps to speak of it aloud."

"She's wise, is Sophy."

"She is. Do you wish to?"

Freya felt Five's fingers reaching for her own beneath the covers. She took the girl's hand.

"Not much," said Five.

Freya stared hard at the girl, until Five turned and looked back at her, her face hidden in the darkness.

"Are you tired?"

"Very."

"Me too. In quite a lot of pain, as well."

"Your hand," said Freya, "is it worse?"

"No, it's all right," said Five. "Think it'll mess up my fighting?"

"It need not."

"That's all right, then."

They were silent for a while.

"Funny," said Five slowly. "I used to think I'd just follow you round and hold your bag while you did the rough stuff."

Freya laughed silently.

"Is that what it's always like?" Five said. "Death's tears?"

Freya shrugged. Five raised herself on one elbow and Freya could tell that the girl was looking down at her. As her eyes adjusted to the light she could see Five's cropped head silhouetted against the moonlit window.

"Don't you know?" said Five.

"I have never tasted them," Freya admitted.

"Never?" said Five, sounding incredulous.

"I have no need."

Five considered this and lay back down.

"I can still feel it," she said after a time. "The ... the sense of power. When we were running down the hill, towards them. You and me together. That's what it was. I felt ..."

She fell silent.

"Happy," said Freya.

Five nodded. "That's why I'm ashamed," she said.

"It does not last," said Freya.

"No," Five admitted. "It didn't last much beyond the first one. Then it was just bloody hard

work."

Freya squeezed her hand. Five lay down again, by her side, and looked up at the ceiling.

"If someone meant to kill one whom you love," Freya said, "what would you do?"

"Before," said Five, "I'd have begged and pleaded and offered them my life."

"Now?"

"Now? I'd kill 'em," said Five. "But ..."

She rose up on one elbow again so that she could see Freya's face in the moonlight.

"Yes," she said, her voice hoarse with tiredness and emotion. "I understand, Freya. I can do this. I see now I can kill, if I must. But I don't have to like it. You were born to do this, but I weren't. And ... yeah, maybe a bit of me took pleasure in it. But ..."

She looked up, as if the stars would give her guidance, as if heaven had any help for her. Then she looked down, back at Freya, stricken and unhappy.

"I may not know much about meself," she said, "but I do know, if I've any good in me, it's not that bit. I don't like that I was happy to kill a man. Before, I thought I'd just fold up and get massacred. Now I know I can be as much of a cold bastard as anyone. And that'll be my trouble, now. Not for a little while. For the rest of my fucking life. Even if I never kill again."

Freya reached up and stroked the girl's face. Five was trembling.

"If you do have to fight again," Freya said, "it will be easier."

"You'd know," said Five.

Freya nodded.

"I am sorry," she said. "I did not want to do it."

"I don't blame you," said Five. "I'd rather be here with you and feel like shit, then be lying dead in that fucking garden."

Freya smiled at her. Five did not smile back.

"So, is this who I am, now?" said Five. "A killer."

"You do not have to be," said Freya.

Five looked down at her. Freya stroked her face until Five took her hand and held it and summoned up her courage.

"Lady," she said. "I'm sorry. I have to call you 'lady'. Just for this. It's important."

Freya looked at her, puzzled.

"Speak," she said.

"I think you know that I admire you," said Five. "And that I respect you."

Freya nodded.

"I think you even know that ... that I love you," Five said, flushing scarlet. "I mean, as a soldier should love her leader."

Freya nodded again, more and more mystified.

"And maybe," said Five, looking more and more mortified, "you even know that I ... well, just that ... I mean, also, as, as a friend, I also love you that way too."

Freya smiled and nodded. What was the girl's meaning? For what was she saying this?

She saw Five force herself to look her in the eye.

"Do you also realise," Five said, "that up 'til now, I've been fucking terrified of you?"

It pierced Freya's heart.

"Of me?"

"Yes," said Five.

"Why?"

"Why d'you think?" said Five. "You've killed so many men. You've got the tattoos. I always thought I could never do that. I've always been scared. I've hid underneath stuff in battles, sooner than fight. And today you made me fight, and I killed five men, just like that. And now I see that all along, it was just a matter of, of ..."

She stopped, helpless, unable to find the words. Freya looked up at her, aching for her, wishing there was something she could say that would make it easier for her.

"A few fucking berries," Five said bitterly. "A handful of fruit in some spirit of wine. That's all it took to change me into you."

So that is what it is, little one. Well.

"I am sorry," said Freya coldly, "that you are so repelled by the thought of being like me."

"But I'm not!" exclaimed Five, clutching her hand. "D'you realise, I've been looking up to you

me whole life? I've always wished I could be more like you. I've bloody worshipped you since ... whenever. But there's a deal of difference between looking at someone from the outside and wanting to be them, and going and acting likewise. D'you not see what's happened, now? I've always wanted to be braver, I've always wanted to be stronger, but I had no idea, lady. I had no idea what it would be like to face a man down and, and ..."

"And take his life," Freya said.

"Exactly," said Five. "My first time out. Not just one man, but five. Maybe six. Even you didn't do that."

"No," said Freya, "I did not."

The girl wiped her nose with the back of her hand, miserable, on the edge of tears.

"Come here," Freya murmured, and she held out her arms. Five let herself lie in the embrace and her body shook, briefly.

"I'm sorry," she snivelled. "You must think I'm a fucking whiny cow. I know it's not right."

"It is who you are," said Freya.

"You said I had to be more cruel," said Five. "Well, this is me being more cruel, and see, I'm crap at it. I can't even do it and have the decency to not moan about it."

Freya thought.

"Maybe I was wrong," she said at last.

"What?" said Five.

"Maybe I was wrong. Why should you have to be cruel? Why should anyone?"

Five lifted her head and looked at Freya.

"It's the real world," she said. "Everyone isn't always lovey-dovey."

Freya gently pushed Five off her. Five knelt on the bed, and Freya sat up and got off the bed. She picked up the candle, walked over to the dying embers of the fire, and thrust the candle end into it. It smoked and lit, and she carried it back to the bed and placed it on the table. Then she she got on the bed and sat, her legs folded beneath her, facing Five.

"That is the way people talk when they want to be pardoned for what they have done," she said.

"Maybe I do want to be pardoned," said Five.

"Who will pardon you?" said Freya, cocking an eyebrow at her. "The families of the dead men?"

"Doubt it."

"But what will they do? Challenge you? You are a hero. A saviour of the city. You proved yourself today, Five. People must reckon with you, the way they did not before."

"You were there," said Five, dismayed. "Those blokes were idiots. They didn't know how to fight, apart from that third one. He nearly had me. But you'd taught me everything I know, so I'd the edge on them, besides which I was out of me head on Death's Tears and didn't give a fuck. They didn't even have the sense to all come at once. They just lined up to get killed. There's no glory in that."

"No-one wishes to think so," said Freya with a sardonic look. "Their families will want to think that their sons and husbands died because they met a great warrior. The men who lived will tell themselves that they did not just lie down and give up, but yielded only after a long struggle. You and I know the truth. But of all the men I have killed, how many do you think gave me a real fight?"

"Don't know."

Freya shrugged. "Maybe nine or ten."

"So is this what it all comes down to?" said Five, looking bleak. "This is where glory comes from?"

"Most of the time," said Freya. "Do not think ill of yourself. You think yourself a coward. I would say rather that you are at heart kind, and gentle. And that is rare. But that is not all you are. There is great rage within you, and you swallow it because you do not wish to hurt people, and it gnaws at you and tells you you are weak and stupid because it can find no other way out. But you are neither. Most men on Death's Tears lose themselves, but you never did. You mastered yourself and you fought well and bravely, and I truly am proud of you. But the world will crown you with glory, not because of ... of how much it cost you to fight at all. It will call you a hero simply because those men are dead, and you are not."

"I've seen you fight," said Five. "I've seen you defeat bigger and stronger enemies. Everyone says you're the greatest warrior of the age. You telling me you don't deserve the glory?"

"I have done more than most to earn it," said Freya, shrugging. "I have never had to be anything else. I have done it for long; I have had more worthy opponents than most. I have had more chances, and I have worked harder, and I have had great luck. That is all. "

Freya looked down at her folded hands in her lap for a moment, and then looked up, and her quiet voice was low and harsh.

"But if I once thought that my life was charmed, that my glory would protect me, then I was worse than a fool. Because when I was helpless, and needed someone to come to my aid, you see what became of my luck."

And at last, Five understood.

Be strong, and everything will come to you; glory, friends, supporters, everything you need. Show weakness, and no-one will help you. And anyone who tries to will be despised.

"It was Sir Ulf," she said wonderingly. Freya looked at her quizzically.

"At Casman," said Five. "I remember, now. I watched it happening to you and ... I couldn't see why he wasn't giving the order, and so in the end I just ... I started out meself to tell them to stop, and that's when I got knocked out. I always just thought it happened in the scuffle, but there was no-one near us. It was Sir Ulf did it. Or Sir Snorri. One of them."

"It would have been Ulf," said Freya calmly.

"Why do you say so?"

"Snorri is not so quick to cover his mistakes."

"You think Sir Ulf letting them do that to you was a mistake? I saw it, remember. I was with him. I saw him do nothing, while that thing caught you up."

"I will not judge him until I have looked him in the eye."

"You plan to go back, then. Soon."

Freya nodded. Five was silent. They looked at each other.

"So why do it, then," said Five.

"Why do what? Why fight? Why conquer?"

"If glory is all just what people think of you," said Five unhappily, "if it's not ... I dunno, not in here," she tapped her chest, "then what's the point? I always thought it would be a sort of feeling. Not just people thinking you're great, when you're just faster or harder or madder than anyone else."

"It is," said Freya, "for a while. But all things change, and if we live long enough, we grow. It is also the feeling of being with friends. But not all friends stay loyal."

Five looked at the bedspread.

"Well, then, that explains why I feel so bad," she said. "You had an army behind you. You had friends to cheer you on. You had a family to go home to when the war ended."