Chapter 48
Forty-Eight
Our fourth day at sea, when the wind was fresh and the sun was gleaming in the clouds, Flojer granted me usage of his cabin so I could feed Halvar in peace and give him a little time out of the sun.
Flojer did this every day. But unlike previous days, when I was finished and stepping out, Flojer asked me to stay for a few moments and hold the edges of his map, so he could re-pin it to his table.
There was a chair that hung from the ceiling—made of rope, like a net—that rocked gently and kept Halvar wondrously content.
I left Halvar in it, my eyes flicking over to him every few moments as I held Flojer’s map, and he readjusted his pins.
“You believe your ship works for Hyrold?” I desperately wanted to speak to him of Hyrold, but at the same time, I was nervous. How could I explain what had happened the night Halvar was born? The night I opened Arik’s forbidden room? I shivered.
Flojer didn’t look up from his map, but he laughed, short and sharp. “All ships row for Hyrold, whether they know it or not, but my ship especially.”
I looked to see Halvar at peace in only the way a baby could be, before returning my attention back to Flojer. “How so?”
“Ah, that is…” He crouched down, looking at his map with his eye level to the table.
“I am certain I only sense a portion of the whole, but… most ships are eager for new rowers. More rowers makes for safer raiding, safer sailing… it is quite sensical. So, most ships take whoever asks, unless there is an obvious fault or problem. Drinking too much. Having a wish for death… things that might ruin a raid for everyone. I am more… selective. I await a sign from Hyrold that this person is right for his aims.”
I opened my mouth, but before I could ask my question, Flojer answered it. “All those aboard my ship have been approved of by Hyrold. He was most pleased the day I asked him about you and those you travel with.”
“Aslak?”
“A rare man. Hyrold refused him three years straight, but Aslak asked me to pray a fourth time, and then Hyrold allowed it. Something important happened in those three years, I expect. I am most curious to see his skael unfold.”
“How…” I took a breath. “How do you know it is Hyrold answering you and not your own mind or else some trick?”
“I do not know if I should answer. I expect it is different for everyone. You, for instance, he guides with dreams; I can sense that.” His eyes glowed nearly yellow, full of mirth and curiosity.
How has he guessed that?
“When I was a child… sometimes I had dreams that came true, but…” I didn’t know how to finish my thought without discussing things I’d rather not discuss.
“You stopped listening?”
I suppose I did.
“The dreams will come back if you let them,” Flojer promised.
“I ignored Hyrold for many years—most of my life truly. Only when—because of a series of… let us call them disastrous coincidences—I found myself captain of a great Norsern ship. I found myself with a woman I had known only once, opening a door for my child, even though she had been taking tea to keep the door closed. I did not have the coin or the skills to do right by her, or to pay off my debts, or keep a crew functioning… I had no choice but to listen. I was maybe twenty-eight? I said, ‘Hyrold, I have been alive for a few years now, and I have made a terrible mess of things. I admit I have no idea what I am doing. You can be in charge now.’” He laughed.
“If it were not for Yarlav, I might have ignored Hyrold forever.”
“Children change everything,” I said. I would like to be more like him, I thought.
There was something steady in Flojer’s presence—he reminded me of my father, but my father in a more free life.
In the way I could sometimes be connected with my lyre—flowing with it—Flojer seemed to be connected with living.
“We are like ropes to the gods,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“We need to be tied around the right things. We need to be pulled with the right force, have the right type of knots in us… otherwise the ship will not move. But you know this.” His smile left, and his golden eyes penetrated into me.
“You have felt it. The gods have made me as I am so that I make Yarlav as he is and put him in the right place for the next portion of their quest… whatever that is. My crew as well. My ship. You and your son. Hyrold has given me all these ropes to tie together but has refused to tell me where he wants the ship to go. I expect I would mess it up somehow if I knew.”
Yes, the days were long and sweet. The music was loud and lively. Of course, as we approached our destination, everyone’s minds shifted their targets. Conversations became focused on theories.
Some believed King Arik had discovered a new continent full of vast riches—that he meant to surprise the Norsern with the greatest raid of all time. Others balked at this and called it wishful thinking.
One woman believed Arik wanted half of all Norsern raiders to leave their ships mooring in Byernen, and go raiding by land further east. “This has not been done before,” she said. “The Bard King likes doing new things.”
“He is to send us somewhere he knows we would not like to go,” said another man. “Why else would he not tell us where we are going?”
Halvar was lying on his stomach on the deck between everyone.
He squirmed gracelessly towards a berry that Flosi—the man responsible for preparing meals aboard the ship—had pulled out of the stores for him.
Whenever Halvar got close enough to reach the crimson fruit, one of the off-duty rowers would move it to the far side of the circle we formed.
Halvar would pout and threaten tears before someone would pick him up and turn him around so he could see the berry once more.
Then he was off, clumsily maneuvering himself towards the treat.
“Arik is up to something foolish.”
“Many are displeased with him. Go to any tavern in Aalt and you will hear about it.”
“There is no need to repair things that are not broken.”
“Last year’s raids were a jest.”
My eyes leapt to Fell. He was sitting at the far end of the ship with Aslak—the man seemed to be reading Fell’s palm. Neither of them looked to be listening to us.
“Last year we left so early, there was ice on the sea!”
“And this year, we leave late—if we go far, there will be ice when we return.”
“And everyone went to nonsensical places—my cousin Tegal’s ship was sent to a quarry—not a single rower brought home any coin.”
A quarry?
“Where was the quarry?” I said.
“What?” the man said. “Uh, the Land of Mud and Mist somewhere… west.”
A terrible worm wiggled into my mind. The mine is dead.
Everything I could see grew sharper in a familiar but grotesque way. The edges of the ship jutted out from the sea and sky—each line in the world competed for my attention.
“What did they do?” I said.
The man frowned; he had charcoal on his face—lines dripping down from the inner corners of his eyes to his cheeks, like he was crying black tears. “What?”
“If there was nothing to raid at the quarry—no gold—what did they do there?”
The man shrugged. “Broke things. Caved in some tunnels. Let us simply say the stonecutters will not be cutting stone for a little while.”
Those gathered around laughed, but my stomach was tight.
Arik never does anything without a reason, I thought. I craved my stones—Fara’s description of the currents of skael made sense to me then, more than it had before. I felt certain my mind was being tugged, that something large and serious was ongoing.
The wind roared, and everyone on board shut their eyes, taking in deep, ecstatic breaths.
I thought of Arik’s face when he’d said, Do you have any idea how many children I am responsible for? I thought of him cooing over Halvar, of how he touched Fell’s head so often, so lovingly.
I looked across the sea to where Arik’s ship rowed alongside us, from where he might very well be casting for Fell or Halvar.
I didn’t want to hear any more complaints about him; I wanted to be alone with my stones but alone didn’t exist at sea.
Rowan and Fara were reclining at the head of the ship, wrapped around each other sweetly.
Aslak and Fell were at the tail. Flojer was in his cabin, but even if he wasn’t, I could only go there if I was invited.
I wanted to ask the stones how my family—how me and Halvar and Fell—were part of Arik’s plans. He never does anything without a reason. If the king only wanted us to be safe from an attack, he would have found us somewhere to stay… but he brought us with him—
“BYERNEN AHEAD!” Someone shouted from up the mast.