Blood and Loyalty Read online

  “Ok,” Disa agreed, putting him out of his misery. It was costing him to explain, and she thought she understood. Her brother could be the same, getting involved where he would only make things more complicated. “You don't think he's noticed already?”

  Finn stood up as Disa felt a hand on her back. She straightened up quick. Rurik laughed at her surprise. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. Walk with me?”

  “Ok,” she smiled nervously.

  Finn crossed to Rurik’s other side and whispered something. Rurik nodded seriously. “Show me the shore,” he said, turning back to Disa. She smiled weakly and walked with Rurik, realizing what felt wrong when she cast a look over her shoulder to see Finn was still standing in place instead of pacing after her like usual. “He has business elsewhere,” Rurik explained when he saw her questioning face. “I've been overprotective of you, forcing him to ignore all other responsibilities. But I think you'll be fine with me.” He grinned again. He did that a lot.

  Disa looked over her shoulder again. He was still there watching, his hand raised over his eyes as he shaded them from the midday sun. Their gazes locked and they watched each other. Rurik was saying something but Disa wasn't listening. Finn nodded slightly. He's going to take care of it, she thought to herself. She stumbled and Rurik grasped her arm.

  When she looked back again, Finn was gone.

  What was he doing? He should be telling Rurik that a handful of important men were missing this morning. Or at least keeping his mouth shut and following the couple around. Instead he was sharing confidences and sneaking on behalf of a woman who was a few days shy of becoming his sister. And watching her as she walked away! What was that? He wanted her to know he was talking care of everything, he insisted to himself.

  And you wanted to be close to her, even at a distance.

  Finn shook his head. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. They were clearly happy, bantering back and forth, their foreheads pressed together. They'd be married by week’s end and Finn would be behind a shield on an opposite shore, securing the interests of their combined families.

  Focus.

  “You!” Finn called to a familiar youth running by. The boy froze, frightened by the sudden call. He relaxed when he spotted Finn, recognizing him as friend and not some drunken adversarial stranger. “Have you seen Roe Erlingsson?”

  “No,” the boy shook his head.

  “What about Grim?”

  The boy hesitated before shaking his head. “No, sir. Is there something wrong?”

  “They were missing this morning. Their sister is concerned. You were running when I stopped you. Are you tasked with something?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, as long as you're running around, find them. Ask others if you must, but be wary. I don't want to draw attention to their absence. They may have need for secrecy and I do not wish to expose them if they have reason. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Find me as soon as you have information. Deliver your message in private, or if I can't be called away, be sure no one can hear you whisper.” The messenger nodded. “Go.”

  Finn watched him take off swiftly. The boy would have to do. His brother had left Finn's fiercest warriors at home. He said he wanted the people defended in his absence. Finn thought he was lucky to have arrived unharassed.

  With the boy after Roe and Grim, Finn would search out the slavers. Their absence could be nothing, but if it did mean something, it was bound to be nothing good. He headed toward the outskirts of the encampment. Who better to know the location of a master than the slave.

  Disa walked the shore with Rurik. He'd been very attentive, asking her all sorts of questions about herself and the people who'd travelled with them, which sod house she had claimed as her own and why, and was perfectly charming to everyone. Disa was shy at first to show him their stark interiors. Though she loved this place and though it reminded her fondly of home, she was more aware of the damp, the moldering walls, and the simple adornments with Rurik by her side. He was, after all, in the largest hall on the highest hill, the rooms warm and well appointed, full of furs and color and thrones to make you feel powerful.

  But she began to feel her own sort of power as they crisscrossed the stony walks, everyone smiling and greeting her warmly. They were polite enough to Rurik, but it was easy to see his discomfort the longer they stayed and the more strangers he found himself surrounded by. He had no hold here. He had no allies, save her, and his brother had abandoned them. It must be strange to work so hard, climb so far, and find yourself back where you began, armed with nothing but your charm and the goodwill of others, and all they’d done was descend a hill.

  Rurik shifted from one foot to the other, nodding idly at something Disa said. “Are all your boats moored here?” he asked, gesturing to the half dozen vessels that had been pulled ashore.

  “Yes, I believe so,” she answered as she turned to face the shore. There were different ships in different sizes, all from the north, the smallest for those who just needed to cross the fjord, the larger ones from the more distant islands.

  He pressed close behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder. Disa’s heart began to beat wildly, pleased and a little guilty as he wrapped his arms around her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it was going to be like to be married to this man. Mainly she just heard the blood rushing past her ears. “Do you want to know a secret?” he whispered.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’ve never sailed.”

  “WHAT?” she made to pull away but he tightened his arms, laughing at her predictable reaction.

  “I was never a fighter like my brother. I was smaller, always better with my tongue than a sword. I thought I was going to be a farmer. I was going to get married and raise my sheep and ten children and welcome my brother home from the glory of war.”

  He was quiet. “What happened?” she asked.

  “The sheep never seemed to like me much.”

  “I'm serious!”

  “So am I! I was a terrible farmer. But our Jarl had known me as a boy. He took pity on me, let me deliver messages and the like.”

  “And then he discovered your relentless charm.”

  Rurik turned her in his arms, their bodies flush, and Disa pressed her hands against his chest. “Am I relentlessly charming?” he laughed.

  “Perhaps.” Disa pulled back slightly, the proximity overwhelming. He looked like he was going to kiss her. It wasn’t that she'd never been kissed before, but she didn't have a lot of experience, and she didn’t know this man half as well as her childhood companions. He touched her face, moving closer, his mouth a few breaths from her own, waiting for her to close the distance.

  Disa saw the flash of red over his shoulder. “Abi?” she blurted out.

  Rurik let her go abruptly and spun around. Abi stood there, her surprise at hearing her name evaporating as quickly as it had appeared, her calm, unaffected demeanor pulled back into place. “What are you doing here?” Rurik snapped.

  Disa glared at his blatant annoyance. She wasn't sure she was going to kiss him anyway; he didn't need to be rude. Abi didn't seem to care. “A boy said you had come to the shore with Ragnar.”

  “I didn't.”

  “I can see that,” she said haughtily, her eyebrow raised. “Do you know where he is?”

  “He's not my husband,” Rurik offered in reply.

  Abi tossed him a contemptuous look and strolled back up the path, her hips swaying enviously in her wake. Rurik sighed. “Sorry. She's...unpleasant.”

  Disa had the feeling he wanted to say something other than unpleasant. “Should we follow her back up?” Disa asked, secretly hoping he wouldn't try to kiss her again. What is wrong with me?

  “Yes, we'd better. There are no less than three fathers requesting my advice about whom exactly their daughters should marry.” He was himself again--the jovial version, anyway.

  “Probably hop
ing you'll fall madly in love with one of them,” Disa smiled.

  Rurik threw his head back and laughed. He didn't deny it.

  Finn stumbled on them at last, though they weren't the pair he'd been searching for. Roe and Grim were leaning against the wall of a clan of no great importance, looking as if they had been there all along, as if there was nowhere else for them to be, neither of them speaking.

  They were too relaxed.

  They glanced at him when he approached but otherwise ignored him, neither offering any words of greeting. This can't be good. “You were missed at this morning’s assembly.”

  “Does Rurik require a word?” Roe asked.

  “My brother only has eyes for your sister. She noticed your absence, though.”

  Roe looked up and realization dawned. “She isn't with you.”

  “No, she went walking with Rurik to the shore. She asked me to find you.” And I wanted to make sure you were in one piece after last night's tension.

  “At the shore?”

  “Yes--” Roe didn't stay to listen to Finn. He pushed off the wall, letting his momentum carry him swiftly down the hills and across the paths.

  “Doesn't want his sister to worry,” Grim shrugged. Finn decided to ignore this strange turn of events. He'd done what he meant to, and though he wasn't going to admit it, he didn't want to leave the pair of them alone for too long. He’d left his brother alone with enough girls to know what's bound to happen given time. Rurik wanted her protected, and Finn was going to obey, even if it meant protection from the one who'd given the order.

  Finn moved to follow Roe just as Grim shifted, taking his back from the wall and instead leaning on his side. It was slight, but if Finn wasn't mistaken, the man meant to block his path. He stepped to the side, ready to continue on his way and ignore the affront, but Grim slid over, his shoulder bumping Finn’s.

  Finn reacted.

  Slamming his arm against his throat, Finn pulled a knife from his belt and pressed it against the bottom of Grim’s ribs, pinning him to the wall. Finn was spoiling for a fight, ready to pull a sword if need be, acutely aware of the axe at his opponent’s back as it ground into the wall. “Is there something you wish to discuss, Grim?” he said, the words more even than his roiling insides.

  Grim stared at him a moment, his arms relaxed at his sides making no attempt to free himself from Finn’s grasp or reach for a weapon. Finn was ready to increase the pressure but he didn't have to. Grim began to laugh. “You should see your face!” he gasped. He patted Finn on the shoulder like he was an exceptionally well-behaved child, his laughter nearly robbing him of breath. “You're so mad!” He wiped his streaming eyes. “I've wanted to provoke you since that first morning.” He patted Finn to release him as he continued to laugh. “You're fast for someone so pretty.”

  Finn stepped back, dropping the knife but not sheathing it quite yet. “Are you serious right now?” Finn asked. Grim guffawed, bending over with his hands on his knees as he tried to get himself under control. “I don't know how Disa stands the pair of you.” Finn put his knife away and strode towards shore. It had been a confusing morning.

  He didn't have to go far before he saw his brother, Disa, and Roe walking towards them, his relief short lived when he noticed Agnar just behind. Grim’s chuckle and light footfalls stopped abruptly, and Finn could swear he felt the murderous heat of Grim’s stare at his back.

  He wasn’t the only one, Finn noted, as Roe’s hand left his sisters back to instead rest on the hilt of his sword.

  “Finn!” Rurik called with oblivious mirth. I was just about to come looking for you. Elydis will be requiring an escort.”

  “Disa,” she corrected for what surely wasn’t the first time.

  “Oh, is this Disa?” Agnar asked with a bored affect. “I thought it was one of my brother’s boys.”

  Finn watched Disa clench her fists in an effort to not tug at her garments. “You’ll watch your words when speaking about my sister,” Roe demanded. “She could take the clothes off you or any of your southern men with nothing but a rusted blade.”

  “If Finn is still busy, I’ll be fine with my brother and Grim,” Disa interjected.

  Finn sighed inwardly. He’d only known her briefly but stating Grim’s name so crisply in front of the slaver was intentional. Agnar pursed his lips. “Is this the famous Grim then?” he asked, his eyes looking him up and down as if the monstrous impression Grim made was lacking. Finn had to keep himself from looking Agnar up down in answer, as if his short stature and bloated belly could ever stand against the likes of Grim.

  “In the flesh,” Grim answered, his smile menacing.

  Agnar pursed his lips again but said nothing in reply. “Good to see you again, Grim,” Rurik interjected. “Finn, did you accomplish everything?”

  Finn struggled to remember what lie he’d told Rurik. He wasn’t accustomed to lying. “Yes,” he answered vaguely and hoped his brother wouldn’t press him for details later.

  “Excellent. My brother will have to be enough,” he smiled at Disa, his thumb flicking across her cheek as if to wipe an imaginary tear.

  “Nan will be wanting you,” Roe said.

  Disa nodded and watched as her brother pushed past Finn and steered Grim in the opposite direction of Agnar who was wandering slowly up the hill once more. Rurik made to follow him but hesitated. “You are a vision no matter what, but perhaps a dress for dinner would be best. Or if not best, easier.”

  If Disa was offended, she didn’t betray it. “I’m obviously not going to wear pants to a feast,” she smiled graciously.

  Rurik laughed heartily and drew her hands to his lips. “I can’t wait,” he murmured, and then he was loping away to catch up with Agnar.

  Finn didn’t know what to say as Disa watched after him, her expression more stony than it had been a few moments before, but she came back to herself quickly. “Let’s go.”

  He followed her as she trotted back towards home. He wanted to say a hundred different things but they all died in his throat, and besides, he wasn’t sure he could get her to slow down long enough to hear him. Before he knew it, they were before her hut and she was dismissing him.

  “I won’t be going out. Nan will want to ready me properly,” she said, her eyes not quite meeting his.

  She moved to wrench the door open but Finn slapped his hand against the wood, forcing it closed the few inches she’d managed. She looked at him, surprise and curiosity batting across her features. Finn didn’t know what he’d meant to do now but he had to do something.

  “You wear pants well,” he said somewhat stupidly. “You should wear them tonight anyway, your husband be damned.”

  Disa scoffed and rolled her eyes, but he saw some of the tension leave her body. After a few moments, she gave his hand a pointed look and he dropped it back to his side. She smiled at him one last time and disappeared inside.

  The air was so thick with the smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, boiling stews, and the sharp stink of ale, Disa could taste it even through the thick walls of sod. Nanna had abandoned her role in preparation of the night's feast so she could braid Disa’s hair. The effort was making Disa's scalp ache and she didn't know if she could sit still much longer. Nan had left most of her hair down, pulling small pieces at her temple and working backward as she made an intricate pattern of spirals and knots she insisted would match the dress Disa had reluctantly agreed to wear.

  She was always going to wear a dress. She had even saved her favorite for the night, but she'd lost some enthusiasm for the garment between this afternoon and this evening. Nan didn't know this of course and had assumed Disa was just being her stubborn self. Disa had caved to her admonishments quickly.

  “Done,” Nan declared as she flexed her cramped fingers. Disa tentatively felt her work but had her hands were quickly slapped away. “Don't ruin it,” she chided as she crossed the room to pull her dress away from the beam she had tossed it over. The idea had been to air it out, but Disa fel
t sure that now it was just going to smell like spiced meats.

  Disa slipped into a white under dress for warmth first as the rest of the outfit was built more for show than practicality. Next came the linen shift, dark green and styled much like her common woolen one, with sleeves a little past her wrists, a modest neckline, and a hem that skimmed the tops of her feet. Next came her apron dress: she stepped into the strapless garment, the deep purple shining richly in the firelight, and secured it with matching bone brooches below her shoulder. Like her simple beaten silver brooches, these bone ones, each boasting a carving of a great tree and its deep roots, had been a gift from Grim. Between the two adornments were the silver chains again, this time with small beads scattered sparsely, each one depicting something battle related, a sword, a shield, or her favorite, a Valkyrie. The chains rested atop an extra panel of fabric a few hand widths wide that was already pinned to the broaches and fell to her shins like the purple garment it complimented, its borders adorned with a gold knot pattern. To finish it off, Disa cinched a weaving of thin leather straps at her waist, the ends of the belt left loose so the individual pieces of leather fell to her thighs, each interspersed with smaller beads or etched leather medallions. Nestled midway down was a small, sheathed dagger, the curved handle made of bone and polished wood. It was pretty and thin, and if one didn't look too closely, it could easily be mistaken for nothing more than a large adornment. Disa twisted the belt so the loose ends bumped gently against the back of her legs. It wasn't the style, but she preferred not to make noise with every step.

  She turned to let Nan inspect the effect. “Well?” she asked when Nan kept quiet.

  Nan clucked her tongue, thinking. “I still think you should have let me use the flower embroidery we got from that trader last spring.”

  “Nanna,” Disa groaned.

  “No, you are right,” she finally acquiesced. “You are very striking.” Her smile softened and her eyes gleamed. “Very grown up.”