A Burning Sea by Theodore Brun (snow like ashes series TXT) 📗

It’s just. . .’ His normally jovial face seemed agitated.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I had to see you. Do you know what’s going on out there?’ He nodded backwards, as if Lilla could see through walls.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Thrand the Dane has called council.’ Einar looked hesitant. ‘He’s sitting in your husband’s seat—’

‘My father’s seat.’

‘So it is,’ agreed Einar. ‘Only Thrand Haraldarson doesn’t seem to know it. He’s ordered an assembly of all able men at noon tomorrow. Did you know about this?’

‘No.’ So it had already begun.

‘Is there something Lord Ringast decided before he . . . well—’

‘If you mean, did Ringast name Thrand his successor. . .? No. He did not. He named me.’

‘You?’ Einar’s docile eyes narrowed. But after thinking about it a moment, he nodded. ‘Aye. I see that. That’s as it should be.’

‘I don’t suppose many others would think so.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. . .’

They looked at each other. There was much unsaid in that look.

At last he rolled his shoulders back and stood tall, though he still looked broad and bulky as the back end of a bull. ‘I served your father for twenty-two years – ever since I could hold a shield. My loyalties are yours, my queen, till my dying breath if you’ll have ’em.’

‘You fought for my brother.’

‘Aye. I was given no choice.’

‘Do you have a choice now?’

‘You tell me,’ he said, a little slyly.

Lilla snorted. ‘Shall I be honest with you, Einar?’

‘Be as you will.’

‘Right now, it feels as if not five swords in the whole world would follow me.’

‘Well, here’s one at least.’ He said it so guilelessly that she had to smile. ‘What will you do, Lady?’

‘I intend to hold this kingdom,’ she said grimly. ‘But to do that, I must first get far away from here.’

‘I see.’ He nodded slowly. ‘Wouldn’t have something to do with that bruise coming up, would it?’

‘You don’t need to know the details. I can’t stay for now. That is all.’

‘Hmm,’ he grunted.

‘Tell me, my loyal friend, what allies do you judge I have in Sveäland?’

Einar sucked his teeth. ‘Hard to know. No doubt some are with you, knowing you’re Sviggar’s daughter and what you’ve done already. But they won’t show themselves. Not till you have some spears at your back.’

‘Some spears?’

‘An army,’ he said. ‘And one worth a man’s blood to stand in the shieldwall with. If Thrand starts making his mark, there’s many in the north won’t like it. But nor will they do anything till they think they can win. He already has the Danes in his pocket. The Skanskar and Gotar levies, too.’

‘Where can I find an army? If I went south, maybe, to the Wends—’

‘No. Not the Wends. They were allies of the Wartooth, and with them all flush from Bravik, there’s no chance they would go against the Old Boar’s last surviving son. Not unless you had gold enough to drown ’em in.’

‘We have the Nefelung hoard. What’s left of it.’

‘That can’t be much after your brother paid for his army.’ It was true. Sigurd, Lilla’s perfidious brother, had squandered most of their father’s gold on buying spears and the men to wield them in his pursuit of glory the previous summer.

But not all. ‘There’s enough left to whet an army’s appetite. They needn’t know the truth of it.’

‘Does Thrand know of the hoard?’

‘No.’

Einar chuckled. ‘Best keep it that way.’

‘What about west? Over the mountains into Norsk territory?’

Einar shook his head. ‘That journey’s hard at this time of year. And you’d be too long in this realm. Thrand would hunt you down quicker than hounds on a hind.’

‘I know the country better than he does.’

‘No doubt, my lady. Anyhow, you’d find little help in the west. The Norsk tribes are too divided. They spend half of every year at each other’s throats. If the best of their own can’t unite them, a Sveär queen never could.’

‘And east – across the sea? We’d leave Thrand’s territory at once.’ She hated to concede it was already his but why lie to herself? ‘My father has old allies from the Estland Wars that way.’

‘That was a long time ago.’

‘The Estlander tribes were loyal friends of ours, were they not?’

‘They were.’

‘And we’ve done nothing to break friendship since. King Ostein was close with my father. Will he not help Sviggar’s daughter as well?’

Einar shook his head. ‘Ostein fell at Bravik, Lady. . . fighting you.’

Lilla pinched her brow. It seemed hope was thwarted at every horizon. ‘The Livi are the largest tribe in Estland. Who rules them now in Ostein’s place?’

‘His son. I think his name is Osvald. He’s about the only man of high blood around the rim of the East Sea who didn’t stand at Bravik.’

‘Why not?’

Einar gave a disdainful snort. ‘They say he had a fever. Which either makes him lucky, or yellow.’

‘What sort of man is he?’

‘A wastrel. So I heard. And a greedy one.’

‘Then let me appeal to his greed.’

‘I don’t know. You need men whose hearts are with you – either for love of you or hatred of your enemy. And even if Osvald will help you, I don’t suppose you’d be getting much for your gold.’

Lilla sighed. It felt hopeless. What then – must she be a fugitive all her days? An exile queen begging mercy from hall to hall? Or worse, stay here, and face the ignominy of Thrand’s rule and the risk of that again? She had sworn to her husband that Thrand would not rule, but what power did she have to keep her oath? Rage boiled afresh in her heart, stirred by the flames of despair. ‘Then there’s no one,’ she said bitterly. ‘No one who can help me.’

‘There may be. . . one,’ said Gerutha softly. She was looking down into her open palm. At first, Lilla couldn’t see what she had nestled there. Then Gerutha reached out and dropped something into her hand. Lilla looked down. It was a little amulet, a crude rendering in silver of Mjollnir, Thor’s Hammer.