Winterfire

Chapter Forty

Lif

“Well, what have we here?” said a strange voice. I woke immediately and sat up. Four filthy, bedraggled, men stood beneath my tree, gazing up at me. The man speaking to me had a sword; the others held spears. None of them was looking at Lucan. They think I’m alone. I didn’t glance in Lucan’s direction. No leaves grew on the trees—three years of winter had kept them bare— so it would have been easy to see him, but the men had their backs to him as they regarded me.

The water had receded completely during the night. The ground was wet and muddy, but we would be able to walk on it now. “Be on your way,” I said. “I have no business with you.”

“Well, perhaps,” said the man with the sword, “we have business with you.” All four of them laughed. I calmly withdrew Breyta from my pack and held it firmly. Breyta trembled, ready.

“I said leave,” I repeated. “This is your last warning.”

“Our last warning, is it? Men, did you hear that? The little lady thinks because she has some sort of a fancy ax she can scare us away!” said the man, and all of them roared with laughter. “Miss, I can drag you out of that tree or you can come down willingly, but down you will come,” he said in a quiet, threatening tone. He glanced around at his companions, smiling and nodding. All at once, he sprang upward and grabbed my leg, sword drawn.

My left hand shot out like a snake striking and I grabbed him by the hair. I’d never moved so fast in my life. I surprised myself; I certainly surprised him. I hit his head with the flat side of Breyta and dropped him on the ground. He lay there in an unconscious heap, his right leg crumpled at an unnatural angle beneath his body.

His companions stared down at him for a moment trying to figure out what had just happened, and then they rushed forward with their spears. I stood quickly so that no part of me dangled within reach of their jabs, but it would only be a matter of time before they remembered they could throw the spears. Without meaning to, I glanced at Lucan.

He had dropped silently from his tree, Tyrfing drawn. He made a small clicking sound with his tongue, such as one might make to call a pet dog or a horse. The men whirled around, startled. This time they didn’t hesitate. Two of them hurled their spears at him at once and the third ran at him, growling with rage. Lucan easily deflected the two spears with Tyrfing. I'd never seen him fight before, but I recognized his graceful, fluid movement from our days growing up in Beal. Then, a terrifying fury came upon him. He looked nothing like my old friend Lucan.

He whirled and slashed, splintering the third man’s spear. Now all three men were unarmed. One of them had the sense to pick up his fallen comrade’s sword. He charged at Lucan from the front while his friends tried to slip around and grab Lucan from behind. They seized his arms; I held Breyta poised to throw, but they were moving around so much, I feared striking Lucan. He leaned into their grasps and kicked the man holding the sword in the face so quickly, the man had no time to swing the sword . As one of the men gripping him stumbled, Lucan twisted out of his grasp and hacked off the man’s arm; he ran screaming into the woods. His companion tried to stab Lucan with his spear, but I threw Breyta and stopped him. Lucan stood, breathing heavily and looking at the gruesome scene around him.

He wiped the blood off Tyrfing on one of the dead man’s sleeves and went to help me down from my tree. I retrieved Breyta and wiped off the blood.

We made our way through the debris washed up by the flood to the beach. The water level looked normal again. Lightning flashed constantly along the horizon, but the sky above our heads was calm and blue. The sand was damp, so we walked while we ate instead of sitting. Neither of us had spoken since the trouble in the forest, but I finally broke the silence.

“Njord told me that the man named Lifthrasir was a master with the sword. He said this Lifthrasir fought like a Berserker. I didn’t know what he meant until now.”

“I wish I could say Tyrfing was responsible for the brutality of that fight, that I was just an unwitting participant, but that’s not entirely true. I’ve changed, Lif. From the way you used Breyta to bash that man’s head, I’d say you have, too. The girl I knew in Beal was too afraid to scream, even. ”

I nodded and we continued in silence for a bit. “There was no call for such merciless behavior when we were children in Beal, but the world is a different place now. If we had not killed those men, they probably would have killed us.”

“They definitely would have killed us,” said Lucan. “I’m sure those aren’t the last brigands we’ll have to deal with before we get to Beal. Njord was right when he said to keep our weapons at hand.”

We continued our journey the rest of that day without incident. We planned to spend the night on the beach, but the sky threatened rain toward dusk.

“We’ll build a lean-to, just as we used to do for fun when we were children,” I said. “One of us can keep watch while the other sleeps.” We cut pine boughs using Breyta and Tyrfing and made a shelter with room enough for us both to sit, or for one person to lie down. We laid boughs on the damp ground to help us stay warm and dry. The result was comfortable and snug, and, like any shelter when one has gone without for a long time, gave me a sense of security. “I’ll take the first watch,” I volunteered after we’d eaten the hard biscuits and apples Njord had given us. We were both exhausted; Lucan fell asleep immediately.

I didn’t have any trouble staying awake and alert before sun set, even after it started to rain, but once it was full dark, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I slapped my face, stretched, and twisted to try to stay awake, but I guess I must nodded off just the same.

I jerked awake when I heard the distant howl of a wolf. Another, closer by, and then another, closer still, answered it. I picked up Breyta and changed position so I’d be ready to spring up if necessary. Maybe they’ll just go off and hunt together. Maybe their howling has nothing to do with us at all. They probably don’t even know we’re here.

Then I heard another howl, close beside the shelter. And another. And a third. I reached back silently and touched Lucan on the shoulder to wake him, but he was sitting up, already awake. He held Tyrfing, the blade glowing in the moonlight.

I sensed the wolves were moving about, extremely close to us, but the dead leaves did not rustle; the ground was damp. Then I heard a sound that made my skin crawl: voices. The wolves were talking to each other.