Winterfire

Chapter Forty-one

Lucan

“I see that cursed sword glowing,” said a growly voice from behind the shelter.

“I’ll take the girl,” said another, this one from the right side. He was beside Lif, but on the other side of the boughs. “You two go after the one with the sword. I’ve heard the sword never misses its mark, but if you attack from behind, Gyrd, before the boy even-”

“Why does Gyrd get to be the one behind? And for that matter, why do you get to go for the girl, Ref, the easier one? At least one of us is going to die here tonight, and it looks like you two have already worked out that it’s going to be me!” said a voice directly in front of the lean-to.

“Be quiet, Eid!” hissed the first voice. “Do you want them to wake up? You’re not in any greater danger than Gyrd and I am! You get the boy’s attention. Gyrd will get him from behind before he gets a chance to use that sword on y-”

I burst from the lean-to before Ref finished his sentence. I was up and attacking as the scattered boughs hit the ground. I slashed the wolf behind the shelter first, killing him instantly. The one called Ref had collected his senses by then and sprang at me. I whirled around and stabbed him. Two down. Eid, the disgruntled third wolf, checked himself mid-spring, turned, ran down the beach, and disappeared in the dark.

Lif stood up and shook the pine needles and twigs from her hair. She drew her right arm straight back and hurled Breyta. We heard a yelp, and then a thud as the wolf hit the ground. “I’ll get Breyta,” she said as she jogged off into the darkness.

“I’m coming,” I said, running after her.

The rain had stopped and the breeze had died down. The waves lapping at the beach were the only sound we heard. We found the wolf considerably further down the beach than I’d expected. “Still think it’s safer to take the girl?” Lif muttered as she pulled Breyta from its body and turned back to the camp. I took her hand and walked beside her, but neither of us spoke. In silence, we picked up our bags. We piled the boughs onto the largest one and dragged them along the tree line further south down the beach.

“How about here?” I said finally. Lif nodded and we began to rebuild our shelter. It wasn’t as nice as the first one, but there were no dead wolves nearby, either. “It’s your turn to sleep,” I said. Lif curled up at the rear of the lean-to and fell asleep.

By the time she awoke the next morning, I had already kindled a fire and caught a fish. “Ready to eat,”  I announced. “You woke up just in time.” I slid the cooked fish onto a flat rock near the fire and we both began to eat it with our fingers. I’d also sliced an apple, and there were more of the hard biscuits Njord had given us.

“How long have I been sleeping?” Lif asked. “You’ve prepared a feast.” Besides preparing the food and building a fire, I had also cleaned our weapons.

“When the sun rose and you didn’t wake up, I decided to let you sleep. I figured that one of us should be well-rested. Who knows what we’ll face today,” I smiled and winked.

“I hope we don’t have to fight off any more attacks before we get to Beal, but I imagine we will,” said Lif. We finished eating and doused the fire. “Those weren’t ordinary wolves last night, were they?”

“The wolves have grown bolder and bolder as the food has gotten scarce during the Fimbulwinter, but I don’t think they developed the ability to speak. No, I don’t think those were ordinary wolves. My guess is that they were like that dog from Helheim you and Njord spoke of. They were Jotun, giants in the shape of wolves. They probably didn’t have any weapons of their own, so they took a form with sharp claws and teeth so they could steal ours.”

We gathered our belongings and set off once again. “I bet we’ll get to Beal tomorrow,” I said. “Maybe we’ll have only one more night of terror,” I joked, though neither of us laughed.

Just before noon, we saw the high tower at Lindisfarne in the distance. “Let’s try to get to Lindisfarne before dark,” said Lif. “Maybe we can sleep in one of the buildings. We should be safer there than we will be out in the open.” We quickened our pace and made good time. The thought of sleeping in a safe shelter motivated us. We reached the shallows near Lindisfarne with plenty of daylight left to find shelter, but the causeway would not be exposed for at least two more hours. We would have either to wait for the tide to go out, exposing the land bridge, or swim if we intended to reach the monastery now.

We stood gazing into the water for a long time. The usually clear sea was churned up, the bottom, usually visible, obscure “There may be bodies in this water,”  I said. “Watch yourself.” I plunged into the cold sea to swim across to the island with Lif right behind me. In the murky half-light,  even if there were bodies floating in the sea, it would be too dark to see them; we wouldn’t know we’d found one until we bumped into it.

Lif’s behavior continued to surprise me. What had happened to the young girl she had been in Beal? That girl would have collapsed to the ground in horror at the prospect of getting into the water. Now, she did what had to be done without complaint.

The high water level and unexpected current carried us to a new take-out spot, but we could still see well enough to make our way to the familiar buildings. When we entered the clearing, though, we were met with a disturbing sight: a cluster of ruined buildings, their roofs torn off, their walls askance on their foundations, was all that remained of Lindisfarne. Apart from the remains of the structures, there was little debris. “The flood must have washed everything out to sea,” I said.

“And everyone,” said Lif. We came across no bodies lying on the flattened grass, and though a few of the buildings looked sturdy enough to enter, we avoided them. The bare doorways and shutter-less windows gave the buildings the appearance of open-mouthed, empty-eyed specters. “It feels like some one, or some thing, is alive in these buildings,” said Lif. “I feel like we’re being watched.” The absolute silence of the once-bustling place made it even spookier.

“What now?” I asked.

“I guess we can try the tower,” said Lif. “Maybe the flood didn’t destroy it. I would rather not wander around Beal at dusk, but if we head straight there now, that’s what we’ll have to do. Let’s try to get a good night’s sleep and go to Beal in the morning.”

We trudged through the mud toward the tower on the hill. The lower part of the incline was covered with dense forest. The footpath the monks had made through the trees was messy, as if no one had used it for a long time. The undergrowth had died long ago – before Lif and I even left Beal – but the monks had always kept it tidy. Now, fallen branches littered the route. In the darkness beneath the trees, hundreds of spider webs draped across the track. We had not seen new, green growth in years, but apparently, the insects still lived, so the spiders thrived.

We crossed a fast-moving creek where we were accustomed to seeing only a feeble rivulet threading its way through the rocks, by leaping from boulder to boulder.  If it had been a warm day, with sunshine dappling the rocks and icy water splashing us, we’d have no doubt been laughing and pushing each other. As it was, the sun was low on the horizon. The air had been damp and chilly all day, but now a dank weight settled down upon us. I heard rustling noises in the woods beside the trail. We spoke as little as possible, concerned only with moving forward.

 A familiar cluster of large boulders lay scattered on either side of the beck “I remember these stones,” said Lif. “There’s a cave here. Remember? If the tower is ruined, maybe we can come back and sleep here.”

The trail grew steep as it continued over the boulders, but we knew the walking would be easier just over the next crest. We sat down and lay back against the rocks for a moment to rest before climbing over them. The cold of the rocks seeped even deeper into my bones than the frigid air. I had to move; I’d be frozen stiff if I sat another minute. I tapped Lif’s shoulder and we both dragged ourselves over the rocks toward the crest. When we raised our heads over the top at the same time, a sight I’d long been dreading made us duck silently down at once: the enormous, shaggy back of a wolf.