Chapter 5.

Kjartan lifted a hand to touch the mark in the wall but quickly drew back, as if burned by it. 

“By Odin’s beard, what is the meaning of this?” Bjorn grumbled.

Kjartan didn’t answer. He couldn’t. 

“There must be a rational explanation.” Alvis surmised.

Kjartan scoffed as he studied the design further. “It’s a forgery. It has to be.”

“But who? Who would dare to be so bold?” Bjorn paced as he spoke, his face a mask of fury.

“I don’t know.” Their leader answered, confusion marring his features. 

Suddenly, he heard a twig snap.

***

Eylin’s mind wandered as she walked, and she stumbled a bit as a result. She blushed, avoiding her companion’s stares.

Kalman had assigned two young men to accompany her back to the village and help her clean up, while he stayed behind to finish setting up their temporary home. 

They had trekked this far in awkward silence, none of them bothering with small talk. Such things meant nothing now. 

When they reached the village, Eylin stopped.

“Something feels off.”

Carson and Finn halted, reaching for the swords Kalman had given them. 

“Stay here.” Eylin murmured. “I need to fetch my weapons.”

Reluctantly, they agreed, and she crept into the village square, heading in the direction of where her home once stood. She had left her sword and bow near the pyre she’d made for her father. 

She avoided looking at it. 

Silently, she strapped on her sword belt and shouldered her quiver, grabbing her bow as she made her way back to the treeline, where Carson and Finn were waiting. 

“Let’s go.”

She didn’t wait for a response. 

She headed slowly down the street, Carson and Finn close behind. Before long they heard voices. 

“But who? Who would dare to be so bold?” The words were agitated. Eylin peeked around the corner to look at the man speaking. He was easily the largest man she’d ever seen, imposing and angry. 

“I don’t know.” The man next to him murmured. He was kneeling down, looking at something on the wall. He was tall, perhaps twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. His broad shoulders were drawn tight with barely restrained tension. He had black hair, and when he turned to look at his companions, Eylin could see that his expression was troubled. 

It took her a minute to notice the third man. He was standing so still, as if the heavens themselves couldn’t move him. 

“Northmen.” Finn gritted out, grip tightening on his sword.

Eylin held up a hand, sensing his restlessness. 

“Wait.”

He frowned, but capitulated. 

***

Kjartan froze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Did you hear that?”

Bjorn halted midstride. Alvis glanced around slowly. 

Suddenly, a young woman stepped out of the shadows. Her fiery red hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her brown dress looked well-worn, patched in numerous places. Her cloak hung loosely around her frame, giving the impression that she’d missed more than a few meals in recent months.

And she had a drawn bow aimed squarely at his chest.

Kjartan raised his hands, rising to his full height. 

“Greetings, lass.” He called out, eyeing her weapon. “We bear no ill will. There is no need for violence.”

She snorted, advancing a few steps further.

“No need for violence? Look around you. You’ve committed enough already.” Her pale blue eyes were colder than ice.

Kjartan frowned, glancing sidelong at Alvis.

“What happened here?” He asked, turning back to the girl.

“Why do you waste your breath asking pointless questions? You know good and well who’s responsible for this. You are Northmen, are you not?”

Alvis took a cautious step forward.

“Aye, we’re Northmen. But we know nothing of what’s happened here. We sailed here thinking to find you well, not… not like this.”

Her bow lowered slightly and confusion flickered across her expression.

“Liars!” A young man came rushing at them, sword raised high, heading right for Bjorn. The older man drew his blade quickly, and their swords clashed as he maneuvered himself away from the boy, ending the fight before it started.

“Boy!” The girl snapped. That seemed to give him pause. “I told you to stay hidden.” She growled. Sheepishly, he stepped back, retreating to stand by her side. 

She raised her bow again, leveling it at Kjartan once more. 

“Explain yourselves before I lose my patience.”

Kjartan raised his hands, moving them up and down a little in a placating gesture. 

“At ease, lass. I promise we mean no harm.” He noticed the boy’s gaze skitter to a ruin in the opposite direction from where he’d come. 

Of course there were more of them.

Keeping an eye on that area, Kjartan took a step back, turning his attention to Eylin once more.

“My name is Kjartan Ironfist. I am the chief of the Northern clans, and I’ve come here on a mission of diplomacy. Who is your leader?”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “You sure have an interesting definition of diplomacy.”

He pursed his lips.

Bjorn huffed. “He asked to see your leader, girl. Will you take us to him or not?”

She coolly transferred her gaze to him. “You killed him this morning.”

Kjartan sucked in a breath.

Alvis’s eyes widened, finally putting the pieces together. “You think we did this?”

Her knuckles whitened around her bow, pulling the arrow back a little more but Kjartan noticed her draw arm shaking a little.

“You claim you didn’t?” 

He stepped forward slowly, not stopping until he was right in front of her. The boy tried to get in his way, but Alvis offered only a steely glare in reply. He soon stepped away.

“We docked on this island a mere hour ago, lassie. My captain brought us seeking alliance, not violence. We arrived to find the place in ruins, bodies burning, and a mark on a wall we can’t explain.” He gingerly raised his hand to her bow and eased it downward. She let him.

“Why don’t you tell us exactly what happened the way you saw it?”

***

Eylin stepped back, creating some space between her and the blonde man. 

She let out a long breath, considering the men before her. Her gaze flicked to Carson’s hiding spot, ensuring he was staying where she’d told him to be.

Unlike Finn. She resisted the urge to turn and glare at him again. His rashness could have ended very badly if the big man hadn’t shown so much restraint.

Why did he? She turned her gaze to him and looked into his eyes for a long moment. She saw fierceness, loyalty, fire. But no malice. It wasn’t like when she looked into the eyes of her attackers that morning. In their eyes, she had seen pure evil. In the eyes of these men… She saw something else.

Sincerity.

And that could be a good thing… Or a very very bad one.

Reluctantly, she relaxed her draw arm, letting down her arrow and sliding it back into her quiver. She felt warmth blooming near her wound as she returned her arm to a neutral position. She groaned inwardly. It was probably bleeding again.

Her right hand, her good one, rested not so casually on the hilt of her sword.

“How many are you?” She asked, her voice strained a little from the pain.

The man who called himself Ironfist walked up to join his companion standing before her. 

“There are fifty seven men and one woman aboard my ship right now. The three of us make sixty one in all.” He gestured to blondie. “This is my first mate and good friend, Alvis Bernsen. The rather hot-headed gentleman behind us is Bjorn Kolbeck, my Second Officer, and the ship’s ironsmith.”

He gestured for the man to come stand beside them. He did so somewhat reluctantly. 

Eylin resisted the urge to smirk. Looks like he didn’t appreciate being called hotheaded.

She chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment, debating.

Suddenly, she nodded once, signalling Carson to come out of the shadows. 

He joined them slowly, sword ready.

“I desire to see this ship and verify your story before I decide anything else. We’ll talk on the way.”

Ironfist smiled. “Agreed.” He turned to blondie. “Alvis, care to lead us?”

The man nodded and they set off. 

Eylin cleared her throat, rolling her injured shoulder absently.

“We were awoken at dawn by the battle, Northmen flooding the streets. There must have been at least five of your ships, soldiers teeming from them like ants from a hill.” 

She glanced at Ironfist, her voice lowering to a growl. “It was a massacre. Men, women, children. It mattered not who died.” She pursed her lips, turning her gaze to watch her step as they navigated the path to the shoreline.

“And then it was over. Once they’d dealt sufficient damage, your people turned tail and sailed off into the morning mist as if they were never here.”

She looked over at Finn, who was glaring hotly at Ironfist. She felt like doing the same, but was far too exhausted for it just now.

Suddenly, Ironfist stopped walking, and his men followed suit.

Eylin’s grip tightened around the hilt of her sword.

He looked her in the eyes, searching them with an intensity that unsettled her.

“Why do you believe these invaders were Northmen?” He whispered.

She frowned. “They were dressed just like you. Your style is very… unique, you must admit. Their ships were cold water carracks too, painted with the same dark pitch that’s on all the ships that come from your country. I’ve seen my fair share of them frequent our harbor in years past.”

Ironfist just stared at her, letting the silence hang as if it explained everything.

“What are you getting at?” She snapped.

The ironsmith crossed his arms. “Imposters.” He answered simply, exchanging a glance with Ironfist. Blondie’s expression looked grim.

“By Odin’s beard, speak plainly!” She glanced at Carson and Finn, seeing the same confusion she felt written on their faces.

Ironfist leveled his gaze at her.

“I’m saying we didn’t do this. But someone went to great lengths to make you believe we did.”

A beat passed.

“Prove it.”

***

Kjartan’s jaw clenched, his mind working in overdrive. He could tell this girl didn’t believe him, and to be truthful, he could hardly blame her. 

Her glare was enough to make even Kjartan Ironfist squirm.

“All I can offer you is my word. Perhaps in time, that will be enough. But for now, I’ll tell you my own story, and you may judge it how you see fit.”

He took a deep breath, turning to continue walking. The rest of the party followed suit.

“But first, I have a question for you. How many people did you lose in the war? How many deaths can you attribute to the Varakai?”

Her shoulders tensed and Kjartan noticed her grip tighten on her sword. 

“My brother. My father’s strength, as well as most of his friends.” She finally answered, her voice so low Kjartan barely heard it. 

He nodded grimly. “Then you understand how near we were to losing that war.”

“What does that matter now?” She whispered.

“It matters because that’s why I’m here.” He glanced over at her. “The Varakai caught us when we weren’t looking and kicked us while we were down. We were unprepared and untrained. They attacked us in the north first. We held them off for as long as we could, but eventually they made their way here. And you know well what happened next.” He sighed.

“I have long held the belief that if the lands of the North Sea had been unified, many less lives might have been lost. Smaller targets are easier to beat. I came here to make alliances to help rectify that. Because make no mistake, the Varakai will be back. In fact… They may already be so.”

She stopped walking.

“This is absurd.”

He turned back to face her.

“Is it?”

She stared at him for a long moment before Carson came up next to her.

“Why are you so sure of their return?” He interjected.

Kjartan shifted his gaze to the young man. “Because we have something that they want.”

“What in the realms could we have that they’d want that badly?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t know, lad. During one of the final battles, we were searching the bodies of the dead. We found correspondence. Orders from their general instructing them to ‘keep searching for it and don’t come home until you have it’. I investigated for nearly a year after the war’s end but came up with next to nothing. I don’t know what they’re searching for, but I’ve long suspected they’d return for it. After what I’ve seen today, I am now certain.”

Carson frowned. “So you expect us to believe that the Varakai attacked us, and not you? We’ve seen many of your kind pass through here. We know what you look like.”

Kjartan glanced to the girl. “How often have you known the Northern clans to be prone to slaughtering villages? Yes, we’re warriors, but we’re disciplined. We avoid conflict wherever we can. Tell me how that reconciles with the destruction you see around you.”

She searched his expression with an intensity he couldn’t read. Finally, she nodded once, seeming to come to a conclusion. She continued walking.

“Just get us to your ship.”

He suppressed a small smirk. “Yes Ma’am.”

They soon reached the shoreline and Kjartan gestured to their rowboat. “Shall we?”

The girl frowned at it before gazing out at the horizon, her eyes landing on the Syreeta. 

Kjartan couldn’t help but feel his chest swell a bit as she appraised her. She was one of the finest ships he’d ever sailed, and she’d carried him through more battles than he could count. He had a right to be proud of her.

The girl shook her head.

“I’ll keep my feet on solid earth for now, thank you. I’ve seen enough. Our new leader will decide what happens next.”

She glanced over at the two young men. 

“Carson, grab four of those bandages from your bag.”

He frowned, but complied and handed them to her. 

She took one, and handed the other three back to him. “Have Finn help you.”

She glanced to Kjartan. “I hope you understand. Precaution, and all that, you know.”

The next thing Kjartan knew was darkness as the blindfold was tied over his eyes.

Chapter 6.

As Carson and Finn blindfolded their guests, Eylin had to admit she was impressed with how well they were taking it. She could have sworn Ironfist had almost chuckled when Carson put his on.

With a small shake of her head, she turned her attention to switching out her own bandage with the one she’d taken from Carson.

Her prediction had been right. Holding the bow at that angle for so long had broken the coagulation that had started and her old bandage was soaked red. She tossed it aside heedlessly to start struggling with wrapping the new one one-handed.

While Finn finished with the men, Carson came up to her.

“Let me help you.” He murmured, taking the bandage from her hand and wrapping her arm up the correct way.

With a small huff, she turned her face away, not meeting his gaze. He just offered a small smile.

“There we are.” He said, stepping back. 

“Thank you.” Eylin whispered. He nodded and moved to take blondie’s shoulder in hand in order to lead him. Finn did likewise with the big guy, so that left Ironfist for her.

Gingerly, she grabbed his wrist with her good hand and let Carson and Finn lead the way with their respective companions.

***

Kjartan was pleasantly surprised to see that his guide took care in the path they chose. She would always alert him to bumps or roots that he might trip over. 

After about fifteen minutes, he felt the ground even out into what might be a clearing.

Suddenly, they stopped, and his blindfold was removed.

“We should probably disarm you gentleman before we get to camp.” The girl said quietly, her tone tempered by exhaustion.

He nodded. “Of course.” As he unstrapped his sword belt and drew his dagger out of his boot, he took the opportunity to appraise her once more.

She was haggard. More so than she let on. He noticed the way she swayed a bit when she was standing still.

Kjartan made quick work of the rest of his weapons, handing them to the boy she called Carson.

As she went to put the blindfold back on, he put a hand on her wrist, halting her movements.

“What’s your name?” He murmured.

She met his gaze. “Eylin.” She said softly, shaking off his hand so she could finish her work. The last thing to meet his eyes were the gray clouds beginning to gather in the sky above them.

He nodded once, acknowledging it. She needed no reply.

After all three men were re-blindfolded, they set off again, and soon Eylin’s voice cut through the silence.

“Carson, go get Kalman. I’d rather he meet us here, else we’ll have a riot on our hands the moment we enter camp.”

Kjartan heard the boy’s footsteps hurry away.

No one spoke as they waited. 

A few minutes later, he could hear two sets of footsteps coming back, the other heavier, and a little unsteady, with an extra beat. The man must be using a walking stick.

“Well, well, well.” A deep voice began, “Let’s start with getting those blindfolds off. I’d prefer to have this conversation man to man.” 

Kjartan squinted against the light. As his vision cleared, the blurred figure before him slowly came into focus. He was tall and powerfully built, though there was a weariness in his blue eyes that resonated with Kjartan. His long sandy blonde hair was loose and disheveled, giving him the appearance of having recently been pulled from slumber, a stark contradiction to the sternness in his expression.

Despite leaning heavily against his walking stick, he still seemed quite the formidable opponent. Kjartan was grateful they were on the same side.

Well… They almost were.

“Who are they, Eylin?” The man asked in a steady voice, never taking his eyes off Kjartan.

“Northmen.” She replied, taking care to keep her voice low. “We found them in the village, surveying the wreckage. They claim something I think you’ll want to hear, Uncle.” 

Kjartan frowned slightly at the word “uncle”. 

The older man let out a long breath, his expression turning grim as he gazed back at the camp full of refugees. “Alright. Let’s get them to my tent without causing a stir.” He turned back toward camp, favoring one leg despite his obvious effort not to.  

Eylin nodded, following behind him, while the young men guided Kjartan and his men along, Finn bringing up the rear.

The rain started slowly at first, but by the time they made it halfway into camp it had turned into a steady drizzle. Nobody paid much heed to it.

As the small party picked their way through makeshift tents and smoldering fires, the stares of the survivors cut him to the bone, making it difficult to hold their gaze, but he forced himself to anyway. 

There was a little girl playing hide and seek with the other children, and they all stopped when they saw the strange men. The girl had a curious, almost fascinated expression on her face, but the others quickly fled to family members. Kjartan offered a small smile, which she returned proudly, running up to meet them and sidling next to Eylin.

“Who are they?” She whispered loudly. Kjartan smirked. Oh, for the days when one could be an enthusiastic child again.

“We’re still figuring that one out, little one.” Eylin replied, resting an arm around the little girl’s shoulders. Kjartan’s smirk faltered at that.

They really were in for it, weren’t they? But, then again… he didn’t blame them. They couldn’t number more than thirty or forty, trying to scratch out a living in the woods, barely recovering themselves into some semblance of order, and here he was, the very enemy they thought they were facing.

He sighed. This was going to be fun.

He could smell the familiar aroma of meat cooking on a fire nearby. Good. That meant someone was hunting. He was glad of it. 

Suddenly, he stumbled a bit on a root, righting himself quickly. 

“Watch your step sir.” Finn murmured from behind him.

Kjartan chuckled in reply, and could have sworn he saw a smirk on the young man’s face when he looked back at him.

When he looked up, he saw Eylin watching them, her face unreadable. Finally, she looked away, veering off the path and ducking into a shelter a small ways away, taking the little girl with her. 

They followed the older man a while longer, until they reached the far edge of the camp and he showed them into a small lean-to, slapshod in its design, but it was warm and dry, which was arguably the most important thing considering how the weather was turning. 

Carson deposited their weapons on the ground behind the older man, stepping aside respectfully. 

The man turned around to face them, setting his walking stick aside to lean against the tent pole, crossing his arms and fixing them with a glare.

“Make this worth my time.”

***

“Why are they here? Are they dangerous? Are they here to help us? Will they bring more people? More children to play with?” Tyra was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

Eylin couldn’t help but chuckle as she sat down on the ground in the shelter, bringing the little girl down with her. 

“No, little one, there are no children with them. They claim to be a crew from the North, here to trade with us.” She pursed her lips, reaching into the bag Carson had given her for another strip of linen and began redressing her wound once more. This was bleeding far more than she’d like. 

“What happened?” The girl’s little eyes bulged wide as she watched in rapt attention. She hadn’t noticed the wound before.

“It happened this morning during the battle.” She answered simply. 

“The bad men did this to you?”

Eylin nodded, and Tyra’s face became fierce. Well, as fierce as a little six year old could be. 

“I’ll go fight them for you!” She put her little hands on her hips, adopting an imposing position that was so utterly ridiculous on her small form that Eylin burst out laughing, gathering her close and nuzzling her face into the girl’s neck, causing her to start laughing too.

“Stop that!” Tyra shrieked. “It tickles.” She tried to squirm away but Eylin held her fast, and her cries soon dissolved into uncontrollable giggling. 

“Oh, it tickles, does it?” Eylin smirked, tickling her more purposefully, her laughter getting even louder.

Finally, the two girls keeled over, laying next to each other on the ground, trying to catch their breath. 

“You’re funny.” Tyra remarked with a toothy grin, rolling over on top of Eylin’s stomach.

“Oh!” She cried out, partly in jest, but also partly in legitimate pain. She sat up so the girl would be on her lap instead. “So are you, you little rascal.” She booped her playfully on the nose before gently setting her aside so she could stand. 

“Where are you going?” Tyra pouted.

“I’ll be back, little one. I need to go hear what they’re talking about.” She reached out a hand. “Come on, I’ll take you to your grandmother first.”

Tyra stood slowly, pout still firmly in place. “I don’t want to be with Mormor, her and Morfar are no fun. I’d rather be with you, you’re fun.”

Eylin smiled softly, gathering the girl into her side. 

“How about we go find the other children then? Perhaps you could go back to your game.” 

The little girl nodded reluctantly and let Eylin take her to the other side of camp.

By the time Eylin made it back to Kalman’s tent, she could already hear their raised voices.

She ducked inside to see him and Ironfist glaring at each other. She huffed, crossing her arms. If looks could kill, she’d have two more bodies to add to the piles. 

“Give me one good reason to trust you, man!” Kalman yelled, running a hand through his hair. “Your story is much too convenient.”

Ironfist sighed, forcibly unclenching his jaw.

“I have none to give you, save the fact that we came here willingly. If we were responsible for such a massacre why would we have allowed a mere girl to bring us to you?”

Eylin stiffened, and Ironfist turned toward her, as if just now realizing she was there. He visibly cringed.

Kalman looked at her too, expression unreadable, as if debating something. 

“What have you to say of them, niece? You’ve heard their claims as I have.”

Silence fell over the group. Carson shifted uneasily and Finn was itching for a reason to draw his sword.

Eylin stared at Ironfist for a long moment, then shifted her gaze to Blondie. She felt sorry for him. He looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than right here. Then she locked eyes with the big guy. His stare was fierce, unrelenting, almost rude… But honest. She sighed.

“I cannot say for certain. I would almost prefer they are lying, because that would be far easier to deal with. We could just kill them now and wash our hands of the matter.” Her jaw clenched at the thought, but she covered it with a glare. “Because if what they say is true, we have far more to deal with than the trust of three men.”

Kalman’s lips thinned into a hard line and he stared at her for a beat longer before nodding decisively.

“Today has been a long day. The sun is near setting and the hour grows late. I will decide this matter in the morning.” He turned to Finn. “You and Carson have first watch. After dinner I’ll send someone to relieve you. They are to stay near the edge of camp, away from those who might make… rash decisions.” He looked at them meaningfully.

“Yes, father.” Finn said, straightening up proudly under the older man’s appraisal. 

“Understood.” Carson echoed, moving to stand beside his brother.

Kalman nodded and waited for them to escort the men out of the tent before turning to Eylin again, using his stick to sink into a sitting position on the floor, finally letting the effects of the day become evident.

“Do you think this wise of me? Delaying the inevitable in this way.”

Eylin remained standing, peeking out the shelter door to watch the party move away.

“It is all you can do. We all need the rest.” She looked back to him and offered a small smile.

“Good evening, Uncle.” With that, she stepped out of the shelter, moving in the direction of where she last saw Tyra.