The Land the Gods Forgot, page 8
“There do I see my father, my mother, my sister, and my brother. They call me to take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla. Where the brave shall live forever.”
The light touch was on his arm again, but then her fingers squeezed tighter until he looked down at her. She was smiling at him, eyes filling with more tears as the people around them continued to mourn. Nodding, she took a deep breath as a tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of her, even as she turned back to watch the fires consume flesh and bone. That small smile hadn’t left her lips and her fingers felt like flames against his arm.
Chapter Eleven
~Bria~
From the top of the hill where the castle sat, Bria could see the pyres still smoking in the dawn light. Some had already been cleaned up — ash pushed into the river to be carried away.
The funeral, for lack of anything else to call it, was one of the most touching things she ever experienced. It had made for a very emotional day. Her breakdown in the training field seemed like days ago. The unforeseen battle had left her rattled, left her hearing the clashing of swords in her restless sleep. Watching fights like that in movies was nothing compared to the real thing — and these people lived their entire lives like that. Just waiting for the next solstice where they would fight for their lives. Waiting for their chance to be welcomed into Valhalla. It put some things into perspective, to say the least.
Her nervous breakdown about being stuck there didn’t mean a lot when she was watching warriors die to keep their families safe. Maybe she couldn’t get back to her family, but there were others here who could use her help. She wasn’t a savior, chosen by the gods. But she could help in other ways. She just needed to figure out what those ways were. Busy contemplating ideas, she didn’t hear Emblyn walk up beside her until the woman sat down in the grass inches from her legs.
“You’re up early.”
Bria hummed in the throat, her eyes focused on the pyres far below them. “Didn’t sleep all that well.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Emblyn nod. She pulled her legs up, resting her arms on top of them. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I worried that after everything that happened yesterday, you might have trouble resting.”
“I’ve never seen people fight like that.”
Setting her chin on her arms, Emblyn snorted softly. “I kind of figured. You didn’t exactly look like a warrior when you arrived.”
Thinking back to the very ungraceful entrance into Volheimer, Bria had to agree. Chuckling, she bumped her shoulder against Emblyn’s. They shared a smile before they fell silent, listening to the world around them wake up as the sun rose over the mountains. It hit Bria’s cheek in a burst, warming her chilled skin. It was late-summer, but the fog that had settled over the valley during the night would burn up in no time.
Glancing at the mountains on the other side of the Fjord, Bria could picture how beautiful they would look with snow on their peaks. But she was in no hurry for winter. She hated being cold and somehow she doubted that she’d be toasty warm in the Hall in the dead of winter.
She was about to ask Emblyn how warm the Hall was in winter when her friend rose to her feet, brushing dirt and grass from her long dress. The funeral the day before had been the first time Bria had seen her in a dress, but that had been more decorated and ornate. This was a simple maroon red strapped one, like the green one Bria had worn the day before.
“I’m going to visit my family this morning. Would you like to come along? My little brother and sister can be a little crazy, but I thought it might be better than sitting around here.” Emblyn’s smile was warm when she looked down her, hands resting on her hips.
Bria had to admit, that did sound much better than sitting around the Hall. Again. So she jumped to her feet, a broad smile on her face, “I’d love to.”
Emblyn’s family home was small, one large space with lofts above their heads where beds sat. The center of the space had a thick wooden table, benches on either side and a fire at the end of it. Despite the strong heat of the morning sun, the space was cool. Something was cooking in the pot over the fire, the smells permeating the space. Clove and caraway dominated the scent, but there was a sweetness there too. Cinnamon and maybe honey. Whatever it was, Bria wanted to have a taste.
Large furs and woven tapestries lined the walls, helping keep the space cool. Bria figured they probably helped keep it warm in the winter, too. Weapons and other tools hung from hooks on wooden beams and on the walls. It was the coziest place Bria had ever seen, apart from her room in the castle.
“Emblyn!” The sharp cries startled Bria. Two blond heads appeared from somewhere to their right, plowing into The Watcher on both sides, wrapping her in a hug.
Her smile shone brightly as she hugged them back, a laugh in her voice, “Hello to you, too. Have you both been behaving?”
One of the children, a little girl with long braids down her back, crunched up her nose. “You’ve only been gone a few days, how much trouble could we get into?”
“Quit a lot, actually.” A deep male voice filled the room. Bria looked up to see an older man walk into the room, wiping his hands off on a dirty rag. The smell of fish came with him, making Bria assume he must have been outside cleaning fish to prepare to be dried or cooked.
Emblyn’s smile softened as she looked at the man, “Hello uncle, need help with the fish?”
He waved her off, an equally soft smile forming on his lips, just visible through the thick beard on his face. “No no, you’ve come for a visit. The fish can wait awhile.” His eyes landed on Bria, the smile diminishing only slightly. “And you must be—.”
“Bria, this is Bria” Emblyn interrupted him and she was grateful for it. She didn’t really feel like anyone calling her ‘savior’ so early in the morning.
The man smiled wider then. Putting his rag down on the table, he came forward with a hand outstretched, “Pleased to meet you, Bria. I am Ryver.”
The children had frozen when their uncle had walked into the room, their eyes glued to Bria. She could see the little boy’s mouth hanging open out of the corner of her eye. But the man’s smile was so warm and welcoming, that she couldn’t do anything but return it. She shook his hand, taking comfort in the roughness of his skin. “It’s wonderful to meet you as well. Your home is beautiful.”
He chuckled, turning toward the pot of food over the fire. He lifted a large wooden spoon and began to stir it, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to tell Hedda you said so. It will bring her joy to hear.”
Emblyn turned to Bria, her hands still resting on the children’s backs. “Hedda is my mother. She’s the healer of our people. I was hoping to catch her this morning.”
A small voice between them spoke up. “She’s at the sick house. Never came home last night.” Emblyn’s brows pulled together, her lips pinching.
Looking down at the girl, Bria crouched down to her level. She had the same deep brown eyes as her older sister. “Hello, what’s your name?”
Her eyes grew wide as Bria spoke to her, but then a huge smile grew on her face. Her hands let go of Emblyn’s skirt and instead took hold of Bria’s hands. “I’m Imrie! I’m eight.”
Chuckling, Bria squeezed the small hands in her own. She had a sudden vision of a younger Emblyn looking so carefree and sweet. “It’s wonderful to meet you Imrie.”
A shaggy head of dirty blond hair pushed in beside Imrie. “I’m Ulrik!” The boy had a toothy grin, and bright blue eyes as big as marbles as they looked at her.
“Hello, Ulrik. And how old are you?”
“Six! It will be my seventh winter!”
Rising from her crouch, Bria put a hand into his hair and gave it a shake. He giggled under her hand, smiling wide at his sister. “Well, you’re practically grown up them.” The children laughed, the sound light as it filled the room. It made the small cracks that had appeared in Bria over the past few days slowly close.
“Alright, you two, let the girls inside. They must be hungry.”
The kids ran to the table, both grabbing bowls and spoons and setting them on the surface. Bria watched Imrie grab wooden cups to fill with the sweet mead they drank at meals. Ulrik helped his uncle begin to fill the bowls with food. Bria smiled at Emblyn. It looked like she’d get to try whatever was cooking in that pot after all.
Leaving the house was hard and it had nothing to do with the space itself. Breakfast with Emblyn’s family reminded Bria of days spent with her own family, laughing over food and sharing company. Watching the kids play with their wooden toys on the floor beside the table warmed Bria’s heart, thawing the last remains of hatred for her position that held on. How could she ever dislike a place like this?
Emblyn was leading them back to the Hall when Bria pulled her to a stop with a hand on her arm. The Watcher turned to her with eyebrows raised in question. Taking a deep breath, Bria worked her face into something that she hoped spoke of finality. “I want to help. If I’m going to be stuck here then I want something to do. I want to help in some way. I can’t just keep sitting around, I’ll go mad.”
It took a moment, but then Emblyn’s lips parted in a smile. She took Bria’s hand in her own and pulled her in the opposite direction of where they had been headed. “Come on, I’ve got an idea.”
They wound their way through the dirt and stone streets of the city, past houses that doubled as shops, too many blacksmith sheds to count, and numerous animal paddocks. Daganold may have been a city according to its size, but it was so vastly different from the cities that Bria was used to. It looked so much like the little Renaissance villages erected for fairs that she smiled. The smells of animals, people, food, and smoke all intermingled together. The scents that had been so pungent when she had first arrived didn’t seem so overpowering anymore. Strangely enough, some of them actually brought her heart comfort. Like the smell of Emblyn’s home had done.
As they walked, she turned to Emblyn, “Do you not live at your family’s home anymore?”
“I did, but now I have a room at the castle. It’s just down the hall from your room.” She smiled, “Alarik wanted me to be close in case you needed anything.”
It wasn’t the answer Bria had been expecting. She hadn’t even realized. Emblyn was just always there when she needed her, but the thought that she had been living right beside her had never crossed her mind. “I’m sorry.” She felt bad, some of the warmth that had flooded her body left her.
Emblyn’s stopped walking, causing Bria to stop a step or two later. Her brows were pulled tightly in confusion. “What on earth for?”
“For taking you from your family.” She thought of how excited the kids had been when they walked through the door. They must have been missing their sister terribly. And there Bria was, keeping her all to herself.
Emblyn clasped her hands tightly to Bria’s forearms, making sure they were looking at each other. When she was certain that Bria was looking, she shook her head. “Never apologize. True, it started as an honor to help you, but it has grown into much more than that. You’ve become a dear friend to me, Bria. A sister, truly. Never feel bad for needing my company.”
Tears welled up in Bria’s eyes, surprising her and making her throat thick with emotion. She worked hard to swallow, to get control of the sudden influx of emotions. It wouldn’t look very good for her to be found crying on the city streets. Swallowing thickly, she tried to smile through the onslaught, “Emblyn. I — thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
The Watcher simply smiled, linking their arms together she started walking, taking Bria with her.
Bria was thankful that she didn’t try to speak anymore as they walked. It took her the rest of the trek to get control over her emotions. When Emblyn finally stopped, they were in front of a long building on the edge of the city, the city Wall rising high behind it. Bria opened her mouth to ask where they were, but Emblyn didn’t give her a chance. She whisked her through the entry, the door already propped open.
Beds and tables lined the walls; the smell of herbs was potent in the space. Fires were situated in multiple places in the center of the room, just like in the Hall. Skylights on the roof let out the smoke and let in light.
They were in the sick house. Many of the beds were full of people, the recent battle having taken a toll. Blood-soaked cloth lay in a couple of places, but a young woman was walking around with a basket, picking them up.
“She’s taking them to be burned.”
Bria turned to the sound of the voice. An older woman was walking over, a smile on her lips. She came forward and embraced Emblyn tightly. Bria realized quickly that it must be her mother, the healer.
“I hope you came to lend a hand and not just to say hello.” Her voice was like warm hot chocolate, sweet and smooth. The few wrinkles on her face spoke of happiness and laughter, a good sign when they were surrounded by the sick and dying.
Emblyn chuckled, “Of course, mother. But actually...I had an idea and I thought of you.”
Her mother raised a single eyebrow, looking at Bria with a sidelong grin. “Her ideas usually end up with someone in trouble.” Her smile was infectious on its own, but the laugh in her voice was even harder to ignore.
“Mother! They do not!”
The woman winked at Bria before she extended her hand, “I am Hedda and you must be Bria.”
The woman’s hand was warm, the skin soft, as Bria grasped it. But there was strength in her hold. It made Bria wonder what made a healer so strong. “Pleased to meet you. We were just visiting your other children — your home is beautiful.”
Hedda sighed happily, “Ah, well, it isn’t much, but it is home. I am pleased you thought so highly of it. I do hope my children were hospitable.”
“Uncle fed us, mother.” Emblyn rolled her eyes in Bria’s direction, but her lips were quirked up in the corners.
Nodding her head, Hedda turned from the doorway and headed further into the building. Emblyn followed, waving a little at Bria to do the same. “Good, good. I would hope he would have offered at the very least.” She stopped at a table where herbs and flowers covered the surface. A stone mortar and pestle sat in the center. “Now, what was this idea, child?”
Realizing where Emblyn’s train of thought was headed, Bria walked around the table so she was facing Hedda again. Setting her hands on the table, she took a deep breath. “I want to help. I can’t just sit around doing nothing every day, I’ll go insane.” She met the older woman’s eyes and spoke words that felt right deep into her soul, “Will you teach me how to be a healer?”
Chapter Twelve
~Alarik~
He couldn’t fool himself any longer. What seemed to be feelings left over from the battle — anxiousness, wariness, and the need to keep the people he cared for close — hadn’t left him four days later. Battles never left him on edge for this long. He had been in too many over the years to be worked up by them for so long.
So when he watched Bria and Emblyn head into the city as the sun rose, his body consumed with the need to keep Bria in his sights, he knew something had to be done. As much as he hated to say it, even think it, perhaps the magic that had brought Bria to his world wasn’t done with them yet. Something felt off. Something was going to happen. He just didn’t know what that was or when it would occur.
Which was why he made himself trek into the woods outside of the city, into the very forest he forbid anyone but The Watchers to go. It sat behind the valley where his home lay, linking with the dark mountains above. The trees stretched out their limbs as if to grab them. The sky all but blocked out by the thick dark limbs. No leaves hung from the branches; they never did. Not in the dead of summer or in the chill of winter. Dark magic fed off of them, soaking up anything the trees themselves would use for sustenance.
It was a desolate place, one he hated with every fiber of his being. He paused beside a tree, resisting the urge to lay his hand on it to rest at the last moment. The blasted trek better be worth it. A hand landed on his shoulder, making his breath stop for the briefest moment. It released in a puff of air, floating away from his mouth on the breeze.
Oryn was smirking at him when he looked over his shoulder. He agreed to take his oldest friend along when Oryn had all but bared him from leaving unless he did. Now that the Dark Forest surrounded them, he was glad for it.
“Getting cold feet there, Lord?”
Rolling his eyes, Alarik shrugged off Oryn’s hand and kept walking. There was a subtle mocking tone to the Guard’s voice, but Alarik knew he meant no harm. They had been teasing each other since they could speak. “I told you not to call me that when we’re alone.”
The crunch of Oryn’s footsteps caught up to him until the men were climbing through the forest side by side. Chuckling, Oryn broke a branch out of his way, tossing the stick to the ground behind him. “I’m sorry Lord, what should I call you? King Lord? Lord King?” His eyes were full of mirth when Alarik glanced over.
“Why did I allow you to come along again?”
“Because, I said I would chain you to your throne if you tried to leave without me.”
The threat had not been an ideal one. They had enough of a past that Alarik knew that what the Guard said was a promise.
Stepping over a downed tree, taking note of the white piece of cloth tied to a low tree branch, Alarik shrugged. “Right. I’ll remember that you threatened your king. Maybe I need a new Head Guard.”
Laughter filled the silent forest, bouncing off of trees. It echoed in the distance, making Alarik cringe at how loud it was. “That will be the day. I’d pay coin to see you try to find a new one.”
