Chapter 12 #2
She moved a little up my hair, and though she held my hair gently, the tugging began to itch my scalp.
How long had it been since I’d brushed it?
The morning I set out for Loric’s kepen.
Many days of travel and then the attack and the boat, and however long I’d been ill…
“I’ve surely missed my wedding,” I said.
She chirped. Like a bird.
Naturally, I was appalled.
She seemed to enjoy my reaction. “Please, stop being so funny, or I will laugh at you, and I can sense you wouldn’t take that well.”
I sat very still, hoping she would finish with my hair quickly.
She was too close to my back. My skin tingled and urged me to move away.
The king is likely sensible, I told myself.
He is a king after all. He only seemed wild because of my fever.
I will explain I must go home. No! I will ask sweetly.
I will cry if it seems that will help. I knew crying would be easy given how overwhelmed I was.
But I also knew crying didn’t always help.
Dayne had always been swayed by my tears.
My father, too. Other people I had known, not so much.
“I will need a moment to dress before seeing the king,” I said, gaining a little steadiness in my heart. He said there had been an error. A king will surely want to remedy an error. I needed to be back in my gown, guarding Loric’s gold, and ready to leave the moment I was able to.
“If I were you, I would wear what The Bard King provided,” she said as she used the comb to create a straight part down the middle of my hair. “Best not to refuse his gifts.”
There was sense in what she said, I knew, but I didn’t want to leave my gown hidden in the wall. Dania had known where it was. It was possible other people did too.
A man’s head appeared in the door as he uttered a few throaty words. Around his forehead was a beaded red cloth.
Dania hissed at the man like she were a snake, flicking her wrist in a way that told him to leave.
He laughed and did as she bid and the little steadiness I’d found dissolved.
Once again, I realized I was in a foreign place where people did animal things, and men laughed at behaviour that would earn…
I didn’t even know what would happen to me if I were to flick someone away back home. It wouldn’t be good.
The man gargled words from outside the open door, and Dania gargled back, both of them laughing.
“He says the king is coming. I’ve told him to slow the man down. You are almost ready. He exclaims—it does not translate—he is torn between love for his king and the desire to obey me and earn my affection.”
The man giggled outside and gargled more words which had Dania in a fit of laughter, leaving me wondering if my fever had been caught by the pair of them.
I was uneasy because the man was just outside the door. Perhaps the king had lent me a guard. But perhaps he also had someone waiting for the right moment to steal Loric’s gold. I didn’t allow myself to wonder if he was there to keep me in.
The king entered, and again I was struck by how observant he felt—the clarity of his narrow, blue eyes, how quickly they darted throughout the room. I lowered myself—slowly and with poise—onto my knees on the floor and then lowered my head, touching my forehead to the slightly tilting rug.
“Gentlewoman, I am flattered, but there is no need for this kind of performance. You are a guest in my home. I would like you to be comfortable.”
“I could be made comfortable by knowing what is to become of me,” I said, my face still pressed against the rug. It was unbearably hot in the room. The warmth of my breath against the carpet was sickening.
“I would like to see your face,” he said. His voice was denser than other voices—I could almost feel it in my bones. I felt him crouch near me.
Slowly, I raised my gaze. My first fully sober look at the man and his first proper look at me, without the derangement of fever altering my expression or posture. Up close, I saw there were streaks of yellow in his eyes. This was what made them seem to glow.
“You look and sound better,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Warm,” I said. “Warm and afraid.”
His eyes suddenly lit from within, full of so much passion, so much interest, that he almost seemed angry and wild. He said, “You cannot be as placid as you act. No one could.”
Some believed King Arik had the gift of prophecy.
Perhaps he cursed me with those words. Or maybe he saw in me something that no one had ever seen before.
Maybe he was simply saying what he thought would create his desired reaction within me.
Regardless, it sparked the smallest fragment of hope within me.
The idea that I could be fortified, that something extra could be hiding inside me that I didn’t know about.
“Gentlewoman, I would like to tell you a story if I could. It is Norsern so… probably more gruesome than the tales you are used to, but I think it is of import.”
I nodded.
“It is from the Saga of Calder the Foolish. Calder commanded a great raiding party and was obsessed with finding new lands to explore, new treasures to steal, new lovers to have. He raided all year, even in the winter.
“One day, he heard tell of a great treasure in the dwelling place of Egil—Egil is one of the gods in this land, god of mischief and illusion.” The king grinned. “Calder knew the god would try to trick him, but he could not quench his desire for the treasure, so he made his way there.
“As he neared the island, he passed a beautiful woman swimming naked with the whales.
He fished her out and had her against her will before throwing her back into the sea.
In her sorrow, she held onto the body of a whale as it swam deep below the surface, and she did not let go until she had drowned.
“When Calder reached the dwelling place of Egil, he found a mountain of treasure guarded by Egil himself.
“‘What must I do to earn this treasure from you?’ Calder asked.
“‘Only a fair trade will persuade me to step aside, and only one thing in the world is worth this mountain,’ Egil answered.
“‘Tell me what it is, and I will find it for you.’ Calder was willing to sail off the map and climb back upon it for such a large reward.
“Egil smiled wickedly. ‘There is a woman who swims in the sea near this island. She is protected by Valla, and I cannot touch her while she is in the water. But once she is on land, Valla’s protection will be lifted. Bring her to me alive, and I will give you what you seek.’
“Calder sailed back to where he had fished the woman out of the sea and found her body floating. When he pulled her aboard, he knew she was dead, and he knew his actions had led her to kill herself. He knew he had prevented himself from plundering the greatest treasure the world had ever known. He went mad and attacked his crew, stabbing and slicing, until they banded together and ended him.”
The king paused to let the story settle before he continued. “Do you know why I tell you this tale?”
I felt the tale was a threat, but didn’t say this to him. I shook my head and played unknowing.
His eyes narrowed. “Because countless small things had to go perfectly wrong and perfectly right for you to end up here in my court.
I was given word that there was a prisoner I would very much like to have freed—one of my beloved bards.
The message did not say which one, only that the cart carrying this prisoner would pass a given fjord on a given day, around a given hour.
I had one chance to free them without a siege or full-on battle.
The first person I sought to send to the rescue refused me.
This is highly unusual. People do not simply refuse me.
He cited the gods as his reason. The second was Valya—you have met her already—only sometimes she entertains me naked, and I was hoping that would happen again soon.
So I did not send her, though I knew she would handle the quest perfectly.
She is very… meticulous. I sent my third choice, thinking…
well, I will not tell you why, only that it was my third choice.
“Somehow, you were travelling by the fjord the very hour they were waiting to strike. Somehow, you were in a prisoner’s cart.
Somehow, you had an instrument with you.
A single day before you arrived, another message came, confirming that Gunnar, my prized, wondrous Gunnar, was captive in your country.
And then, you are delivered to me in his place.
A goldkeeper no less. Someone with blood and skill much valued by my enemies.
This feels like too many chance events, no?
Especially as you handle the cold so poorly, so even to return you home, it would be wise to wait until the colder seasons have passed.
The cold seasons last several moons here.
There must be a reason the gods have sacrificed Gunnar and given you to me.
Some conversation we are meant to have, some talent or gift you have for me.
When we have figured that out, and it has completed its quest, then we can discuss your return to your country. ”
The word enemies blazed in my mind.
“You see, Gentlewoman. I am Calder in this tale and you are the woman swimming with the whales. I will not toss you back into the sea until I know what possibilities you create for me.”