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

‘Erlan,’ she murmured, amazed. Just the name on her lips sent a shiver of emotion through her heart.

‘It is his.’

‘How did you come by this?’

She listened as Gerutha explained how Erlan had come to her in confidence before leaving Uppsala. He had given her this amulet to safeguard, perhaps for ever. ‘He said it was the seal on his word. That if ever you had need of him and nowhere else to turn, I was to give you this.’

‘But how were you to find him?’

‘He said to look for him in the east.’

‘East. Is that all?’

‘He knew no more himself.’

‘The east!’ spat Lilla in frustration. ‘Gods, he may as well have said the world.’

‘I don’t know. It may not be so forlorn as that,’ said Einar. ‘If I were looking for a man in the east, first place I’d start would be Dunsgard, high-seat of Ostein.’

‘Where Osvald now sits.’

‘Mmm.’ She could see his mind was working. ‘Osvald ain’t much use, no doubt. But with Erlan Aurvandil. . .’ Einar’s face cracked in a smile. ‘The Aurvandil’s name carries a good deal more weight. With him behind you, you might win many more to your banner.’

‘But he fought with the Danes at Bravik. Why would the Sveärs stand behind him?’

‘Same reason I would. In Sveäland, he’s still seen as your father’s man. Folk know he only changed sides to avenge himself on your brother. But he could bring more spears from both sides of the Kolmark. I heard the thanes of Skania make much of how they stood and fought with him at Bravik. I’d lay my best axe he could swing them to stand with you.’

Erlan. So was he the key?

How hard had she tried to erase every trace of him from her mind? How many times had she suppressed his memory and buried it deep beyond her conscious thoughts? Their love had had to die – a corpse she had laid to rest inside a barrow-tomb. And yet here it was again like some revenant wight, knocking and knocking to be released into the light.

She suddenly gathered up Einar’s hands in hers. ‘Will you come with us?’ She realized as she spoke that she had already assumed Gerutha would stay with her. She dropped one of Einar’s big paws and seized Gerutha’s hand instead so that all three stood facing one another. ‘Both of you are with me?’

‘Aye,’ said Einar.

‘Aye,’ echoed Gerutha. ‘To the end.’

‘Then I am strong already,’ Lilla murmured and smiled. ‘We leave tonight. Here’s what we shall do.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Erlan and Leikr stayed in the village two days while Ramedios and his crew completed their business. All the while locals came swarming out of the surrounding country like ants to spilled honey.

The hours of trading were long, the barter hard. Erlan doubted there was any man could best Ramedios in a trade, even in the busy northern markets of Sigtuna or Helgö. When the time came to reload their cargo, not an ounce of it was the same. Where before, Ramedios had carried manufactured goods – glass beads, containers of wine and oil, delicate wares like mirrors and drinking vessels, and finely wrought weapons – his men now stowed bales of fur, quantities of bone and antler, honey-pots by the dozen, barrels of millet grain, and, of course, slaves.

Ramedios didn’t like dogs. Thus, Aska’s passage came at the cost of a silver arm-ring, leaving Erlan with only two others and the gold torc around his neck. Leikr hadn’t a scrap of hack-silver to his name. As to their own passage, their weapons were sufficient recompense, should they be called upon to use them. Erlan had traded his seax knife for a decent spear to arm Leikr. He had his ring-sword. With any luck, they wouldn’t need either until they reached this place called Byzantium.

Leikr was quiet, muted by his grief for his brother. Erlan remembered losing Kai. No words could have brought him comfort back then, only time could do that. And so he let Leikr be.

Instead he observed Ramedios. There was a restlessness about the captain that drew his eye. He would pace the decks, barking out orders, as if the force that carried the ship southward found its origin in him. More surprising was that he took an interest in Erlan. At first only a few moments at a time. He’d catch Erlan’s attention, point at something, then say the word in his language. At night, when the crew were bedded down and Leikr curled up beside Aska in the bows, Ramedios sat up with Erlan and they wrestled their way through words and gestures towards some sort of understanding, until even Erlan felt he had given a reasonable account of where they were from. And as the Dnipar grew wider, Erlan decided that he liked the man and was grateful to learn from him the tongue of the Hellenes, as Ramedios called his own people. ‘But most know us by another name. Graikoi.’

The Greeks.

It was a sweet day when Erlan smelled salt on the air. He dragged himself forward to where Leikr was gripping the bow-post, gazing out to the horizon.

‘You can taste it, can’t you?’ said Leikr.

‘Aye.’

‘The Black Sea. . . My father always said whoever reached here entered the gateway to another world.’

‘I guess we’ll find out. You and me, huh?’

‘I guess.’ Leikr’s eyes were shadow-ringed and dull compared to how they used to look. ‘I never imagined a life without my brother. Even though he’d drive me half-mad, I. . . I always thought he’d be there.’

‘He was a good lad. A good man.’ He put his hand on Leikr’s shoulder. ‘You’ve got a lot of life left to live, my friend. Remember that. And who knows what lies out there?’ Ahead, the sun was breaking through scudding clouds and glittering off the waves. ‘Fame and fortune, maybe. That’d be something to return to your father with, hey?’

‘I suppose,’ Leikr said dully. ‘But