Chapter 49 #3
My mouth hung open in the sickliest of nightmare horrors.
Fell bested one of his attackers, but the second woman took time he did not have, and then the third came and steel slammed into Fell’s back.
His hands changed—they were still his hands, but they moved wrong, rested wrong.
When he swung his arms next, they moved half the speed that seemed right.
He grasped the throat of one of his attackers, and they both plummeted into the sea.
There was maybe a heartbeat more of Yarlav groaning as he rowed, putting as much distance as he could between us and the fray, before one body stood again.
It was not Fell.
The spit and blood mixture in my mouth curdled.
I knew with my heart before I did with my eyes what I saw next.
Fell’s back, torn half open. His limp body floating beside the two he’d killed, as those he’d fought rushed out of the water onto the dock, climbing into another rowboat on the far side.
But it was too late. We were far enough away that they wouldn’t catch us. Fell had stalled them just long enough.
I was mindless. I was the motion of wailing without the sound. I was suffocating, oppressive silence, screaming without my voice. Dead for a few moments maybe, since so much of myself was Fell. I saw Arik’s form emerge from his tent. I saw him running for the shore.
I only woke up from the slow-fast nightmare when Yarlav slammed me onto the deck of The Fearsome Beast. The oars were already moving, thrusting the ship away from shore at a reckless pace. Raiders were shouting, pulling ropes, the drums beating fervently in the background.
“He has Halvar!” I screamed as I clambered to my feet, slapping Yarlav with four times my own strength, as pure hatred flooded my bones.
“Halvar is here.”
I took in a breath so sharp it hurt my lungs, turning to where Flojer’s voice had come from.
Halvar was there, just as the captain said, appearing well.
Flojer, however, was wounded; his tunic was black with blood, and his limbs rested at the wrong angles.
Five bodies lay on the deck around him—Ivar and Eydis, along with others from Flojer’s crew.
I let out a breath that was half-cry, half-laugh. Laugh because I was seeing my child after fearing I wouldn’t. Cry because… well…
I scrambled to Halvar, pulling him so tight against my chest that he coughed, the deck rising and falling aggressively beneath us as the ship raced out of the bay.
Yarlav collapsed onto his knees and crawled to his father, lifting the man’s head to rest it in his lap, hunching over so his forehead touched his captain’s. He made a sound that was like the mew of a cat.
“Shh,” Flojer said, grasping the back of his son’s head. He whispered something to which Yarlav nodded, and then he said, “Help me sit.”
Yarlav eased his father up amid the lurching of the ship, sliding his body behind Flojer’s.
“Come,” Flojer said, his eyes locking with mine. “Closer.”
I slid forward, breathless, shivering and sweating and shaking. “What happened?”
Flojer grimaced, and blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.
Yarlav breathed out two whimper-laced breaths.
“Closer,” Flojer said.
I crawled even closer, close enough that I was nearly atop him. I could smell the death on him. Metal and the kind of sweat that comes from pain.
I rested Halvar in my lap, in the crook of my knee, as Flojer took my face in his hands, pulling my head so close to his that our foreheads were nearly touching, ignoring the tears and snot and spit and blood coating my face.
He jutted his chin and whispered. “Quickly.” He took in a sharp, wheezing breath. “Before anyone else thinks of it.”
I shook my head, not understanding, but then I followed his gaze to the knife at my belt, which I’d entirely forgotten about in the chaos.
All the skill does not matter if drawing is not an instinct.
“This?” I took the dagger and offered the hilt to him. I knew he was dying, and I wanted his final moment to be exactly as he wanted it, for I was beginning to comprehend at least part of the scene before me. He had protected Halvar.
Flojer shook his head and swallowed, and it seemed swallowing took the strength of a hundred rowers. His hands shook as they rose to meet mine, turning the blade so the hilt remained in my fingers and the sharp end rested against his ribs.
“Now, quickly. Hyrold has told me.”
“No.”
“You must. It is your work now to get Halvar—and my crew—somewhere safe. Hyrold needs them.” He gave a little, reassuring nod, and it reminded me of my father, almost like he was saying, You are doing well. He didn’t seem bothered by what he was asking.
“No,” I said again. So much death had already happened. My mind was obliterated by it.
He sucked in another rattled breath. “I will be done with this life in a moment or two. Hyrold speaks to you. Let it be clear who my crew is to obey.”
I closed my eyes. Hyrold, help me. Let me go back. I don’t want any of this. “I do not want—”
But the blade was in. He’d pulled it, with my hands in his—he’d pulled the blade in.
I opened my eyes, whimpering as he tensed, as his eyes fluttered.
It was taking an excruciatingly long time.
I pulled the blade out, slick with his blood, and that sped death up. In a moment, Flojer’s eyes were glass.
Yarlav groaned into his father’s head and then raised his gaze to me, unacknowledged, silent tears leaking from his eyes. He seemed like he was going to reach around his father and strangle me for a moment, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat. “Where to, Kaken?”
“What?”
My mind was still bouncing back to an earlier moment in the day. Fell letting go of the rowboat. Seeing Halvar was fine. Fell letting go of the rowboat. Seeing Halvar was fine, and then Flojer…
Aslak pulled me to my feet—a little too roughly—I barely had time to grab Halvar properly as we rose. Aslak turned me and pointed to the many ships pursuing us. “Do we fight or flee?”
Another on the crew laughed. “She is lost in the blood. Her mind is gone.”
Yarlav rose too and took my shoulders in his hands, turning my face to his. His eyes cut through the cloud in my mind for a moment, offering the same warm reassurance his father’s gaze had. “Flee?” he offered.
“Flee,” I said. I couldn’t let Arik near Halvar.
Yarlav’s voice lost all hint of pain. “Kaken says flee!”
Kaken.
I was captain of The Fearsome Beast.