The Codex Lacrimae: The Book of Tears

Chapter 6: A Rune Gate to Muspelheim

Two men sitting beside the fire rose with blinding speed, their swords drawn and at Santini's throat before he could utter a word. They wore trousers of woven black wool, brown leather boots, and beige tunics with sleeves that stretched to their wrists. Rectangular fur cloaks fell to their knees, bound by golden brooches that gleamed in the blazing fire.

Age and physical features separated the men. A goatee beard and tattoos from head to foot marked the one closest to Aurelius, and black hair scraped back in a ponytail fell to his shoulders. He seemed surprised, but controlled, at a stranger's materialization at the campsite.

The older man had a thick blond beard and was also of fair complexion, though tanned more deeply than his companion. He spoke first. "Hei, now! What's your business here?"

"I didn't mean to startle you," Aurelius replied, "but I saw the fire. I took a swim in the river. I'm cold."

After a long moment, the blond-bearded man lowered his sword. He nodded toward the other man, indicating that he should do likewise, and gestured in a welcoming wave to the fire.

"Come, then. Join us at our meal." He pointed at the spit above the flames that held a roasting boar. "You're not a damned elf; that much is clear. Though, why in Odin's Name you wander about like a drenched rat in the dead of winter is a story that'll be your payment for the food."

"You're armed only with that sword?" the younger man asked.

"Do I need more?" Aurelius replied, trying to ignore the importance the man seemed to place in the question. Somehow the hatchet had lost its glowing attributes and looked again little more than a woodsman's tool at his waist. "A sword serves me well enough."

The tattooed man snorted, and gestured at the supplies near the horses. "If you come across the spiders here, you'll find you need quite a bit more than that blade."

Aurelius moved past him, noting the spears and nets that were the most visible items in a pile of hunting gear. The roasting meat made Aurelius realize how hungry the cold had made him.

The older man tossed a blade to Aurelius. He caught it deftly by the handle while scanning the area. It appeared to hold nothing more than a heap of black sable and white ermine furs, long bundles, two neighing horses, and the men's unrolled bedding.

Where's Clarinda? He moved forward and used the knife to slice a chunk of meat from the spit.

"Fell in the river, you say?" the bearded man prompted after the youth had taken a few more bites.

"Yes, back by the falls," Aurelius replied through a mouthful of the pork. His shivers diminished as food and fire did their work.

"Here." The blond-haired and more hospitable of the two men as he tossed a black sable fur at Aurelius. "You can borrow this for the night."

"Thank you," Aurelius unfurled the weighty garment and wrapped it around his shoulders. The change in temperature was immediate, and Aurelius felt truly grateful for the warmth. He nodded appreciatively at the pile of pelt. "You've had good fortune—I never thought I'd see so much white ermine in one place."

The blond-bearded man grunted. "The stoats in this region are almost pure white, no spotting or discoloration. They yield a high price at the fairs."

"That's it," the tattooed man advised Aurelius in a solicitous tone, "make sure the cloak covers you entirely—you'll warm up quicker that way."

"What's your name, stranger?" the older man asked, reaching forward to slice some more boar-meat.

"I'm called ... Ríg by my friends."