Chapter 52 #2
“Is this true, Lady Tala?” asked Hakon, his gaze sliding toward her.
“Of course not!” Tala ran a shaking hand along her auburn braid.
Tell them, Eisa, urged Myrkur, His glee a palpable thing. Show them the letter.
Silla pulled the square of parchment from her pocket and unfolded it carefully.
“ ‘Your coffers will be replenished with fifty thousand sólas when Eisa Volsik lies dead,’ ” she read, her heart pounding vigorously, “ ‘and fifty thousand more should Jarls Hakon and Agnar march against each other. Burn this note after reading. Yours, Queen Signe.’ ” Silla’s eyes met Tala’s across the room.
“A pity you did not burn it, Lady Tala.”
“Where did you get this letter?” sputtered Tala. “Did you—did you search my quarters?” She glanced desperately about. “It is nothing but falsehoods! Planted to place guilt upon my innocent shoulders—”
We have her, Eisa. Let me in and we will show her—show them all what happens to deceivers.
Silla shook off the ominous request, focusing on Lady Tala, whose eyes darted frantically to Jarl Hakon. “You must believe me, Jarl Hakon. I relayed your request for peace just as you asked—”
Jarl Hakon’s face had turned a furious shade of red.
“It is no secret that your house suffered financial mismanagement long before your husband’s death, Lady Tala,” said the jarl.
“As a token of my friendship to your late husband, I’ve held a place for you in my court, but I can see now that you’ve abused it for your own gain. ”
Spill her blood, wheezed Myrkur. Kill. Destroy. Show them what it means to cross a Volsik!
Silla massaged her temples, trying to keep her focus on her former mentor.
“No!” pleaded Tala, glancing about as though searching for an exit. “Please, Hakon, you must believe me—”
But Jarl Hakon only looked to his retinue and nodded. The crowd gasped as Hakon soldiers pushed to their feet.
This woman must be punished, Myrkur cried. She made you twist yourself to fit her standards, Eisa. Toyed with you while plotting to take your life.
The god had a point. “Aside from the attempts on my life, I wonder how many of your lessons were designed to ensure my failure?” Silla found herself asking.
“You are the one spouting lies!” exclaimed Lady Tala, her anger reaching a boiling point. “You ought to be grateful! How dare you smear my good name—”
Strike her down, seethed Myrkur, wrath burning through her veins. Squeeze the breath from her lungs. Let me in, Eisa!
As Silla ran her thumb frantically along the heart-shaped rock, Tala darted away from one of Hakon’s warriors as he tried to seize her arm. Just as it looked like she’d reach the walkway, Lady Tala stumbled, falling hard on her stomach.
“Oops,” said Kaeja, pulling her foot back from where she’d tripped Tala. And as Kaeja’s blue eyes met hers, an incredulous laugh came from Silla.
Hakon’s men swarmed around Tala and secured her wrists in manacles as Myrkur chanted inside Silla’s skull. The god was enjoying this spectacle just a little too much.
Lady Tala could have maintained her dignity had she let them lead her out of the meeting chambers quietly. Instead, she went like a spitting cat.
“The Volsik Dynasty is filled with wolves!” hissed Tala as she was hauled to her feet. “The queen has plans! She will be a just leader and usher in a new era in this realm!”
Do not let this slander stand, Eisa! pleaded Myrkur. We must act swiftly and without mercy—
But the chamber doors slammed shut, muffling Tala’s voice and making the dark god writhe angrily. Silla’s fingers flew to her temples, and Rey seemed to notice. He stepped nearer, the press of his boot against hers made the dark god hiss.
Still, it was difficult to concentrate through Myrkur’s tantrum.
Silla grabbed Rey’s hand. Focused on the feel of his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand.
And finally, she was able to turn her attention back to the crowd.
Jarl Hakon stared furiously after Tala before turning abruptly to Jarl Agnar.
“I suppose my letters never reached you?” said Hakon, striding toward him with one hand outstretched.
Agnar accepted Hakon’s hand and shook it firmly. “No. And I suppose mine never reached you?”
“No.” A brief pause, and then, “I can assure you, Jarl Agnar, I have no interest in your borderlands. In fact, I have a parcel of land along the northern coast that has grown cumbersome to manage. It is rocky and infertile, but the waters are thick with whales. Perhaps with your fleet of fishing vessels, you could make use of it?”
Agnar’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, reminding Silla of just how young he was. “That would be—” He cleared his throat. “—I would accept, and offer you in return half of our catch.”
Two matters settled, thought Silla. The realization that she’d restored peace on the border caused satisfaction to shimmer all through her. And knowing this emotion to be her own, Silla grasped onto it. Refused to let it go.
Myrkur growled, trying to resurface, and she again focused on the feel of Rey’s thumb drawing circles across her knuckles.
She thought of the shield-home, of sitting on the bed while Rey untangled her curls.
The god cringed deeper, and Silla blinked back to the present, only to realize the entire room was watching her.
“I am glad to see friendship restored between your families,” she forced out, bracing against Myrkur’s furious attempts to push forth.
“There is more we must speak of,” she said, glad to have practiced this speech, as she required all her mental strength to keep the dark god at bay.
“I called you here today in this, of all halls, to signify a fresh start. This is the very place where countless plans have been hatched by the Uppreisna, and so it seems a fitting location to usher in a new age. An age where we stand shoulder-to-shoulder—east and west, Galdra and not, peasant and jarl—axes in hand and hearts in alignment. I like to think of it as the Dawn of the North.”
An enthusiastic cheer rose up from the crowd, and Silla blinked in startled gratification as the dark god was driven further down.
She let the sound billow through the high-ceilinged chamber—let the hope and optimism of these people loosen Myrkur’s hold.
After a moment, she held up a hand and continued.
“You all know me as Eisa Volsik, but long before that, I was Silla.” Her eyes found Hild’s, and her insides grew buoyant.
“I grew up with very little. Earned calluses and blisters through long days in kitchens. I love animals to a fault, can make nine different types of bread, and I’ve been told I drool in my sleep, though I choose not to believe it. ”
A murmur arose in the crowd, and Silla caught Hild and Eilif sharing an amused smile. She latched onto the warmth that bloomed inside her. Used it as a weapon against the god of chaos. Silla reached into her pocket and pulled out the heart-shaped rock, lifting it for all who were present to see.
“My foster father gave this to me.” Pride and love and a multitude of other emotions blossomed inside her.
“Some of you might know him as Tómas, others as King Kjartan’s bodyguard.
But to me, he was Matthias. He raised me to be kind and hopeful.
I’ve been told these are not qualities one needs in a leader.
That you need someone stern…a queen who can strike fear in the hearts of your enemies. ”
Silla smoothed her thumb over the rock’s surface.
Myrkur thrashed deep within her, but He was distant.
Smothered. It made her smile. “That, I fear, is not me.
Instead, I can bring a willingness to dig my hands in and work—to fight alongside you.
And above all else, I bring an eagerness to learn from those who know better.
“I am not too prideful to share that I am better suited to some tasks than others. Some would see this as a weakness, but I choose to see it as an opportunity. I am here today to ask for your help. I do not care how many bushels of grain your land can produce, nor how far back your lineage reaches. Your rank does not concern me. Only the courage in your heart will matter when we face Myrkur’s creatures at Rokkur. ”
While the jarls knew of Rokkur’s threat from their meeting, the rest of those present did not. Silla found herself holding her breath, allowing a few moments as whispers rippled through the crowd. But she could not give their fear space to sharpen. Could not relent her hold on Myrkur.
Silla’s gaze found Jarl Holger’s in the crowd. “My honesty has been questioned, and I will tell you now, Jarl Holger, you were not wrong. I thought that in order to gain your trust, I must hide parts of myself. Instead, it has only planted doubt in your minds.”
Rey’s hand slid once more into hers, and they held the heart-shaped rock between their palms. It gave her the strength to say what she must. “Now I share with you the truth: I have not been well in my time in Kopa. My mother, Queen Svalla, made a bargain with the god of chaos, and the bargain now lives within me.”
She saw disbelief in the faces of the crowd, and Silla did not blame them one bit. Yet as Myrkur clawed back some ground in her consciousness, she forced herself on.
“A shard of Myrkur lives in my body and each day He grows stronger. I’ve hidden this away, afraid you’d lose faith in me.
But in doing so, I’ve only weakened the bonds of trust. So now I share my whole truth with you, as well as my plans—tomorrow I will leave for the heartwood of the Western Woods.
There, I will vanquish the leech and break the bargain my mother made. ”
Myrkur roared deep within her, his displeasure pushing forth. But Silla focused on the faces in the crowd, landing on Agnar’s encouraging expression.
“Rokkur is indeed coming—the twilight of days. It begins with the long winters and ends with fire raining down upon us. You might have heard of Myrkur’s serpent offspring slipping through the crevices in the north, and the deadly mist that has forced so many from their homes in the west. This leech is Myrkur’s progeny, which has climbed from His realm through the deep roots of a hjarta tree.
“Each day, the god of chaos gains more anchors to our realm,” continued Silla. “But there is hope. The mother serpent was vanquished; the crevice through which she entered our realm sealed. Do you know what that tells me?”
The room was silent, but Myrkur was riotous. Anger lashed through her veins and pounded at her temples. Clearly the god did not wish for her to reveal His plans.
“It tells me that our fate is not set—it can be rewoven. But we must act quickly. Tomorrow, we ride for the heartwood in the Western Woods. And when Marra is fullest, we will do battle against Myrkur’s progeny and the Turned creatures it has spawned.
We need all the help we can get. No longer can we afford to be complacent on this issue. I ask for your swords—”
Silla gasped as Myrkur railed against her, sending sharp strikes of pain through her skull.
But through her inner tumult, she was vaguely aware that several figures had stood from the benches.
Jarl Agnar and his two dozen warriors walked across the floor toward the dais.
The crowd watched on as they dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.
Jarl Agnar’s voice was loud and carrying as he spoke. “Eisa Volsik has proven herself an honorable and truth-seeking leader. House Agnar pledges their swords to you.”
The lightness in Silla’s chest expanded, dulling the pain in her skull and easing the unruly beat of her heart. She smiled broadly, tears shining in her eyes. Both Silla and Agnar knew how it felt to be underestimated, and so it felt fitting that the young jarl would be the first of her oathsworn.
But it surprised her to see the next jarl to step forth—Jarl Holger, who’d witnessed her possession by Myrkur and had confided to Rey his distrust of Eisa. The grizzled warrior dropped to one knee, his retinue of battle-hardened warriors at his back.
Her insides turned light and fluffy, warmth suffusing all of her limbs. Myrkur thundered within her, trying desperately to regain control. But Silla’s smile only widened. She had the upper hand. And as more jarls crossed the floor, she knew she’d keep it.
The rest of the jarls came forth. Hild and Eilif joined them, the stablehands, the refugees, and more.
Atli stood, leaving his father to join the others.
And soon, Hakon joined them as well. Hundreds of people, bending the knee.
How many warriors would that mean for the heartwood?
Silla could not say. It would have to be enough.
Tears of hope filled her eyes as she looked over the bowed heads.
She’d done the impossible—had rid herself of the traitor in their midst, had united the jarldom, and had gained the swords needed for the battle of the heartwood—all while a shard of her enemy lived inside her.
Myrkur snarled within her, but He was buried deep.
And she could not help but think it—if she could do all this, perhaps she could break the bargain, too.