Chapter Eighteen
They left the comfort of the hunting lodge bright and early the next day, making their way carefully down the other side of the mountain.
It took most of the morning to clamber down the winding path, the majority of the time spent on foot gingerly leading the horses down one at a time.
The gravel shifted occasionally, sending a cascade of rocks down the barren mountainside—it was a stark contrast to the forested slopes on the ridge.
Eventually, the steep drop levelled out into woodland and they began to breathe more easily, each returning to mount their horses with a grateful sigh.
‘It might be as easy to sail around to this side of the mountain,’ declared Agnar bad-temperedly. ‘Even using hooks and ropes to climb sheer cliffs must be easier than that!’
Astra, who’d grown more and more confident with him, giggled and began to explain with a lot of wild hand gestures why that was impossible.
‘The cliffs on the harbour side are much smaller! Here it’s all meadows and flat farm land.
At the very edge of the island there are no beaches or gentle slopes.
The land drops right off into the sea from a very great height. ’
She chopped straight down with her hand to demonstrate.
‘The cliffs are very dangerous and sometimes big chunks of rock fall down into the sea with no warning! So, you wouldn’t want to get close to the edge or try to climb them with hooks.
You’d hit a bit of loose rock and go…’ She whistled loudly, mimicking the sound of something falling through the air.
‘SPLAT! You’re dead!’ she shouted, banging her fist against her palm for dramatic effect.
Skadi rolled her eyes at her child’s exuberance. What had happened to the terrified little girl being held up like a leg of lamb? It seemed Astra was far quicker to forgive and forget than Skadi.
‘Be careful you do not spook your pony,’ she warned Astra, who frowned back at her, but held her reins a little more firmly.
She’d managed to sweet-talk Skadi into borrowing one of the miners’ ponies, although Skadi might insist they use it for transporting goods on the way back—Astra could be a little reckless when riding.
Agnar scratched his chin. ‘Hmmm, then I won’t climb the cliffs… But this is still a troublesome region to get to!’
‘It is,’ agreed Skadi. ‘The harvest is brought over by mule to Thrudheim. Or occasionally through a path on the southern ridge, but that relies on the time of year and the tides clearing enough space around the harbour. The journey has to be timed very carefully. It is worth it, though. The flatlands are fertile and the food produced here fills most of Thrudheim’s stores with vegetables and meat.
Unfortunately, wheat, barley and rye crops tend to fail here, the land is too rocky, the storms too harsh.
’ She looked pointedly at Agnar, hoping he would remember what she’d said about the grain stores and having to import them from Sven.
He nodded. ‘I have a plan for the grain…’ Again, he didn’t give a full answer and she was growing tired of his lack of openness, especially as she was trying very hard to be open with him.
With a sharp glare she asked, ‘Perhaps you will deign to tell me of it some time?’
* * *
She kicked her horse forward with a bad-tempered huff and Agnar immediately regretted his words.
He kicked his heels urging his own horse to follow her.
It only took him a few moments to catch up with her and, after a quick glance behind, he was reassured to see that Oddmund was riding further back.
‘Skadi!’ he hissed and she eased her horse into a slower trot before glaring back at him.
‘Yes? Are you finally willing to trust me with your plans to feed my people? I have explained everything you have asked of me.’
He sighed. ‘Our people,’ he corrected before adding, ‘I hope to make a deal with King Erik. He has an excess of grain and would welcome some silver.’
‘I am sure he would!’ snapped Skadi, ‘It is the exact same arrangement we have with Sven. You are simply exchanging one deal for another.’
‘That is true,’ he admitted, ‘but King Erik has something in his favour that Sven does not.’
‘And what is that?’
‘His lands lie between King Olaf’s and yours. If we ever need help, we can use his trading and fishing routes to notify Olaf. It would put us in a stronger position to trade with your uncle and get aid from him whenever we need it.’
‘Sven will not be pleased if King Erik accepts our deal. They have been in disagreement with each other for some time. Sven might even use it as an excuse to try to overthrow him.’
‘He might.’
As if she were talking to a child, she said, ‘And that would leave us with two Kings angry with us and still no grain!’
‘No… The other Kings would revolt against Sven for his high-handed attitude. They do not like him; they do not like how he controls this region with an iron fist. They know that if they allow him to threaten one King, especially for simply trading with another, then they are all doomed.’
Skadi could see the wisdom of it, but she was still worried. ‘You play a dangerous game… Let us hope our people do not suffer for it.’
They came to a fork in the path, and Skadi halted her horse, standing up in her seat to face Oddmund, who’d managed to worm his way to the head of the group. Thankfully, he was still too far away to hear their conversation.
‘We shall pay respect to my father and the ancestors, before heading to the crafters’ village.
Oddmund, take half the men to the crafters and let them know of our arrival.
We will join them before nightfall,’ she declared, before lowering in her seat and trotting her horse towards the path on the left.
Agnar followed, being sure to check that Brenna and Vali were either side of Astra before continuing.
‘Do not speak to Oddmund of my plans,’ he said and she stiffened before turning to face him.
‘I have known Oddmund my entire life. He can be trusted.’
‘If you want me to tell you more about my plans for Thrudheim’s future, you must swear to speak only to me about them.’
‘Is that because I am part of your pack now?’ she teased, but swallowed when his eyes narrowed with anger.
‘Yes,’ he growled. ‘And I do not give my trust lightly. Even Vali isn’t privy to everything.’
She turned away from him, but gave a begrudging nod of agreement. ‘Then, no one shall hear of your plans from me.’
The woodland path ahead of them opened out into a meadow that overlooked the sea.
But that wasn’t the most remarkable sight.
Awaiting them were two imposing white stones guarding the entrance to the meadow like frost giants.
Beyond them were several funeral mounds, covered in grass and flowers.
Oval shapes of varying heights covered in turf and encircled by a jagged ring of rocks placed to ensure the shape of the ships lying beneath the earth remained, even as time dragged them deeper down.
They stopped in front of the two stone guards, beautifully carved with painted sea serpents and runic ribbons intertwined.
Agnar followed Skadi’s example as she dropped down from her horse and let it feed on the meadow, passing their reins to one of the warriors who had remained with them.
He then helped Astra dismount, surprised when she grinned up at him and said, ‘Grandfather’s ship is that one.
’ She pointed to a large mound a few feet away from the entrance.
‘Moma says he wanted to be placed facing east, so that he could always watch the sunrise.’
Agnar looked out at the mound. The sun was high overhead, but he imagined that during sunrise it was a beautiful spot.
The curving flatlands and dramatic cliffs of Thrudheim were at your back and the endless sea stretched out in front of you.
He wondered if Skadi’s father had ever longed to travel, to see what lay beyond the sea.
Agnar would have told him not to bother. There was nothing more than greed and cruelty beyond his lands.
‘You wouldn’t be allowed to be buried here,’ said Astra bluntly and then added with a gentle apology, ‘I’m sorry, but only the true bloodlines of the first King can be laid here…
Although Grandfather cheated a little with Grandmother, he took her ashes as part of his hoard and was buried with her.
She’d died when Moma was a baby, you see…
’ Astra took a deep and thoughtful breath.
‘If you die before Moma, she can take you with her as part of her treasure if you like…’
‘I see.’ Agnar tried to hide his amusement at the child’s easy discussion of his demise. ‘She might want to take your father instead.’
Astra shook her head quickly. ‘No, Pappa was buried at sea, Moma said he would have liked that. If you don’t want to be buried at sea, you can have a burial mound down by Thrudheim.’
‘It looks like I have a lot of choice.’ Agnar said, slightly disgusted with himself for finding a twisted pleasure in the fact that Skadi had not wanted to keep Heimdall’s ashes for her own afterlife.
Skadi had moved to stand in between the two stones. She spread out her arms, touching each rock at the same time as if she were greeting two loyal warriors, then after a silent moment of reflection she passed through.
Astra took his hand and tugged him forward, explaining solemnly, ‘When you pass through the gate into the King’s meadow, you are entering the land of the dead.
You cannot see them, but they are there.
Their spirits feast in Valhalla, but they are like Odin—able to return whenever you seek their guidance, or just want to wish them well. ’
‘But they’re dead… How can you wish them well?’ he teased and Astra’s face wrinkled with momentary confusion.
‘It’s…polite. They are our elders after all. You need to be respectful.’
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t go in.’ Agnar said, this time meaning it.