Chapter 15
Fifteen
Gunnar
She had to participate.
He was going to lose his mind.
Gunnar wasn't sure if he should be ridiculously angry, or if he should just give up.
He'd been trying to protect this woman for almost a year now, and it seemed she tried to negate all his hard work.
She didn't want to be protected. She didn't want to be safe.
Ach, most of the time he thought she'd rather be dead, and that made something in his chest feel like it could shatter.
No, he wouldn't let her die. He wouldn't let her do something that she regretted. That was why he was here. Gunnar had promised to take care of her, and that was exactly what he was going to do.
"My king," he tried again, uncertain that he could get through to Egil, but at least trying one more time.
"She really shouldn't participate in the games.
I know you have been removed from much these days, but she cannot handle this.
The slightest wind can set her off. Smells. Sounds. She's fragile."
"She has been in that state for a very long time," Egil replied. "And I do not see her breaking yet. Perhaps you should consider that you do not know what it means to be fragile."
Riddles. It was always riddles with this man.
They walked through the clearing, heading into the woods to a secret place Gunnar knew very well. Egil worshipped the old gods, ones who didn't have names. Some believed they were spirits, the ancestors, others believed the gods were the parts that made up the mountain.
A small altar was hidden beneath bright blue leaves that fell upon the top of the stone surface.
Countless scratch marks marred the smooth top, years of many trolls having worshipped right here.
A small stone slab had been placed on the ground before it, and even that was worn with two divots where knees had rested many times over the centuries.
Twin trees arched over their heads, blue leaves vibrant and glowing in reaction to the king. All of Trollveggen did that. As though the mountain herself recognized the man who led them all, and even she bowed her head to the greatest king of the trolls.
He knelt, and his attendants draped his wings behind him. Limp, as always. But now they looked like a massive cloak that stretched far beyond his clawed feet.
"Kneel with me," Egil said, gesturing to the other side of the altar. "Perhaps the mountain goddess can answer your questions better than I can."
No goddess would speak to him. He'd tried.
After he had lost... her. Gunnar remembered coming to this particular spot, kneeling before the goddess, hoping and praying that she would speak to him.
That she would allow him to speak with Tindra just one more time.
He needed to apologize. To tell her that there had been no excuse for him not fighting to get to her, and that no matter what he had tried, there was no way he could have saved her life, but maybe.
.. Maybe she knew of a way. Maybe she'd forgive him for not thinking of it.
But none of it had worked. The goddess had remained quiet. He did not see the spirit of his dearest friend, and he would never see her again. That was how death went.
Egil believed differently. He came here to pray to his wife. He came to beg for forgiveness on behalf of a nearly fully elven mother, who had cried at the sight of her son. Egil had loved his wife desperately. At least, that was how the story was always told.
The king leaned forward, his elbow notching into the slots that had been worn into the stone, and then he glared at Gunnar until he did the same.
Sighing, Gunnar tried to remain quiet. He really did. He understood that worship was different for everyone and that this still was a holy place. But that didn't stop the argument from falling from his lips.
Under his breath, as though he was afraid the mountain would hear him, he murmured, "Rose is still in a delicate state.
Everyone knows she wanders, but it is more than that, my king.
I have watched her soul leave her body more times than I can count.
We must keep her in one place until I can figure out a way to keep her spirit where it needs to be. "
"Her spirit seemed firmly attached to me."
"It is sometimes attached and sometimes not." This argument was frustrating and going nowhere already. "I am asking you to do this one thing for me."
"And I am asking you to drop it. If she had wanted to leave the games, she would have told me so." Egil looked at Gunnar over his clasped hands, his brows furrowed in anger. "You are stopping her from fulfilling her destiny. Perhaps you have done that for a very long time."
Gunnar's mouth dropped open, his jaw working before he blurted out, "I've kept her safe since I found her!"
The branches above their heads rattled in warning at his tone. Even the mountain didn't like what he was implying.
"You know as well as I do that there is strength in that woman.
It's why you didn't leave her behind. It's why you haven't been able to leave her behind since the very first moment you saw her.
" Egil tilted his head to the side. "The mountain sees it.
The energy that runs beneath our feet recognizes there is good in her.
There is a purpose that hasn't been snuffed out by countless hands who pawed and bruised.
She has endured, Gunnar. There is power in that. "
He didn't like thinking about this. As always, he squeezed his hands a little tighter. His claws dug into his skin, drawing small pricks of blood that, if he wasn't careful, would soon run over his knuckles.
The thought of what she had suffered? It made him want to kill. The minimal knowledge he had fueled him through many of the war bands he had joined and much of the death he had caused. He’d killed for her.
But Gunnar couldn't tell her that. She was too soft. She didn't like dead things, not even dead moths in the barracks where she was staying.
He ground his teeth and swallowed hard. "I'm not saying I don't believe she could be strong, but she is not strong yet."
"Then you and I are not looking at the same woman."
Egil bent forward and murmured under his breath.
The words were hard to catch, but they weren't for Gunnar to hear, anyway.
These words were meant for the trees. For the roots that shifted beneath their knees like snakes, trailing up his calf to hold him in place when he would have stood to give his king privacy.
The mountain held him where she wanted him, forcing him to remain and eventually to hear the words that Egil said.
"You would have loved the gathering, Father.
There were more trolls than you ever dreamt of.
Your work, your legacy, it burns bright in this kingdom.
And Mother, I pray you find some solace in the graves of the ancestors.
Wife..." There was a long pause, Egil drawing out the word long and low as though even the title tasted sweet on his tongue.
"Every day I miss you. Every day I seek your face in the crowd.
But soon, I promise you, soon I will bring him home. "
And that made Gunnar freeze.
Him.
Surely the king didn't intend to bring his son back to Trollveggen?
There were rumors that had gotten out of hand about the young prince.
Egil had always made his point very clear.
The royal line had always sought women with the highest blood content of elven blood.
It didn't matter what the king or queen wanted. They had a duty to the entire kingdom.
They endeavored to make a new species. A new, powerful being that would lead the trolls into dominion over the humans. They would destroy everything, everyone, all that stood in their way.
A servant whispered the words, "Dark elves."
The rumor was always the same. Egil had created a son who was truly a dark elf.
Or at least, as close as they had ever gotten.
An incredibly powerful man who had been training for years far away from Trollveggen.
A son he would only bring back to Trollveggen when he was ready to quell the humans once and for all.
The king lifted his gaze over his knuckles once more and held Gunnar's. It was a look that spoke of the fear in the king's heart. How worried he was to bring his most precious son here.
A son who would bring about a new age. A prince who should have been here his entire life, perhaps, but had been kept safe in the wilds for all this time.
"Your son?" Gunnar whispered, as though even saying the words would bring them far too into reality.
Egil nodded. "He returns, Bone Keeper. It is time for my son to come home."
The words rattled around them, shattering the air like a premonition from one of the ancient wise women.
Leaves rained down on their heads, shimmering with a pale glow.
They swirled around the king in a circle, as though the mountain herself marked this choice as divine.
Leaving Gunnar kneeling outside, looking into this magic that was both terrifying and earth shattering.
She was real. The goddess was here with them. He could feel her suddenly, and he looked down at his feet where the roots had tightened even farther.
And then, gently, he placed his hands on the altar that had warmed.
Egil watched his expression change with a soft, calm look. He nodded when Gunnar glanced up at him, perhaps wearing his shock on his features. "Yes, Gunnar. She is here with us. She is the one who said it is time for Magnus to come home."
"Magnus?"
"The prince of dreams," Egil replied. "A son so great that none who look upon him could question that he is what we have always dreamt to be.
A dark elf. A man worthy of all our hard work and powerful beyond recognition.
But he journeys through great danger, and I need you to intercept the caravan.
The Smoke Reader has seen trouble, and we must do everything we can to avoid it. "
"You want me to bring him safely home?"
The honor of that order burned in his chest. There were many others who were better choices.
His brother, Ragnar, could heal any wound.
It would make sense to send him in case anything went wrong.
Bjorn had returned to them, the great berserker of old who could tear through an entire army on his own if he desired to do so.
Gunnar was neither of them. He was a trickster at best, but he knew this mountain better than anyone else. He'd traveled farther, he'd learned from the best in many kingdoms.
Pride made his chest swell. He would bring the prince home, and that would be something that would earn him a piercing everyone dreamt of. The mark of a hero. A bone straight through the bridge of his nose and out the other side.
All would know that he had been the troll to bring about a new age, to help the prince return to them. It was an honor that he could not deny.
Until he remembered the bridal games. And her.
Rose, who would be without him, now a potential recipient for the attention of men she shouldn't be interested in.
But what if she was? What if she had looked through the crowds of those fools who simply weren't good enough for her and she had seen something she was intrigued by? Someone she was curious about?
"I..." How did he turn this opportunity down? He couldn't. This was the prince of dreams, the only person who truly mattered in this mountain. Everyone here would die for him if given the chance.
And here Gunnar was, about to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime for a woman who barely even noticed he existed.
Egil watched all of those thoughts playing behind Gunnar's eyes as if he could read his mind. "It was not a request, Bone Keeper. It was an order. You will bring my son back here, safe and sound and in one piece. Then you will rejoin the others in the bridal games. It will not take long."
"Are you certain of that?" He had to ask. "You won't release Rose from the games and I... I won't be..."
"All who remain here will take care of your glass woman. She will be looked after as she always has been while you are on your adventures." Egil slowly stood, bracing himself on the altar as he broke his connection with the goddess.
The vines slithered away from Gunnar's legs, and suddenly, he was free as well. He felt... tired. As if all the energy had been sucked out of him, and standing was difficult to do.
At least until his king reached out a hand and pulled him to his feet. "It is always hard to connect with her," Egil said with a chuckle. "She is exhausting as much as she gives purpose."
"I tried to..." Gunnar shouldn't say this. "I tried to connect with her for years. I begged her to let me speak with Tindra, to apologize for all that had happened. The goddess denied me."
"Because you did not beg her. You ordered." Egil smiled and started toward his attendants, his wings making a hushed sound across the fallen leaves. "Women do not like being told what to do, Gunnar. You have yet to learn this."
His mouth dropped open again, and he didn't know what to say to that. He ordered Rose around just fine and she... well, she was always wandering off without a soul, so he guessed she didn't listen to those orders. But she at least tried. He was certain of that.
"My king?" he called out as Egil was about to round a large tree and disappear from his view.
"Yes?"
"When do you want me to leave?"
He had a lot of planning to do, after all. There was his pack to get together, and he had to figure out routes that would avoid humans. It was the prince. He should probably avoid regular troll routes as well. He still didn't even know where he was going to meet the man.
Egil replied, "All the information is already waiting for you in the barracks. You'll head out tomorrow afternoon. Travel at night. My son cannot see in the sunlight."
A true dark elf after all, it seemed.
But tomorrow?
Gunnar stood frozen beside the altar, his stomach twisting. What was he going to tell Rose?