The Falcons of Fire and Ice (44 page)

‘The Danes arrested Hinrik,’ Ari says. ‘He was alive … when they took him. Maybe they’ll let him go,’ he adds, but there is no conviction is his tone. ‘Fausto is dead. He went back to try to help the women when the fire started. I couldn’t stop him. The Danes cut him down with a sword as he ran across the yard. He would have died instantly from such a blow.’

Fannar shakes his head sorrowfully and makes the sign of the cross.

Ari turns to Unnur. ‘But how did you escape the fire?’

Unnur is as drained and wretched as her husband. Her face and clothes are streaked with mud and soot. But she moves to her husband’s side and pats his arm fondly.

‘Fannar taught me what to do, if ever we were attacked. There was always the danger we might be, with Father Jon …’ She hesitates and glances warily at the foreigners, even though from their blank expressions it is plain they cannot understand her.

‘There was a place at the back of the store room where the wood which held up the turfs on the roof could be lifted off, like a trap door, but it was hidden from view, unless you knew where it was. Fannar said if ever we were attacked, the girls and I must lock ourselves in the store room. He would try to stop the attackers entering the
badstofa
. He said that if he appeared anxious they should not go in there, that would be exactly where they would go first. And they did.

‘When we heard them smashing up the hall, we broke open the hole in the roof and crawled out, before the fire could take hold and spread to the store room. We had arranged a place long ago where we would go and wait for Fannar to come and find us, if he could. We waited and waited, but he didn’t come. I thought he was …’ She breaks off, unable to bring herself to utter the word.

Fannar puts his arm about his wife. ‘The Danes were still searching. They were between me and where I knew my wife would be hiding. I was afraid that if I tried to reach her and was seen, I might lead them straight to her. They kept searching for most of the next day. Only once it got dark again did they give up and I was able to go and find her.’

Unnur suddenly bursts into tears, sobbing on her husband’s shoulder. ‘Our home … everything … all gone … destroyed …’

Their elder daughter, Margrét, begins to sob too, but little Lilja stares blankly into the flames of the cooking fire, as if her mind has frozen out all that has befallen her.

Fannar pats his wife’s back awkwardly as if he’s never seen her cry before and doesn’t know how to stop her. Women like Unnur have too much pride to shed tears in their husbands’ presence. But she has suffered much in the last two days, and hungry, frightened and exhausted, she can no longer hold back her grief.

‘It’s hard, I know, but homes can be rebuilt, Unnur,’ I tell her gently. ‘Fannar and your daughters are alive and safe, in the end that’s all that matters.’

She nods and tries to smile through her tears, wiping them away on her torn sleeve.

‘Now, Ari, find some spoons and let Fannar and his family eat while I tend to the child. I don’t have eating-vessels for so many, so you must all eat from the common pot, though that will be no hardship if you are hungry.’

While they eat, I fetch some water I have already set to cool and prepare to wash Lilja’s shin, but though she is normally an obedient child, the terror and shock of the last two nights have made her fearful of everything. She curls up in a ball and will not let me touch her. I sense someone standing beside me. It is the girl, Isabela. She crouches down by the child, holding out her arm to her. There is an angry red line across it, which has blistered badly. She must have been struck by some burning wood as she escaped the house. Isabela takes the bowl of water and the cloth from me and gives them to Lilja, miming that she wants the child to bathe her arm.

Lilja stares. Slowly she picks up the cloth and dabs at the burn. Isabela does not flinch, though the slightest touch of the cloth must hurt her. She holds her arm steady, smiling encouragingly at the child.

I fetch some of the mummy ointment and tell Lilja to gently coat the burn with it. It will heal them both as well as it has the draugr. But that is not why I do it. The bones of the old woman are in that ointment, the first spirit of the door-doom of the dead. I must make a connection, a bond, a cord, between the old woman and the girl. Only then, only if we can all join one to another, will we be strong enough to stand against him.

Isabela gestures to Lilja’s shin and the child stretches out her leg towards her trustingly, allowing her to tend the cut, which she does with great gentleness and sureness. She is plainly well accustomed to caring for wounded creatures. She sniffs at the ointment, and dips her little finger into it, licking it. She nods to herself as if she recognizes the ingredients and approves of the mixture. As she returns the jar to me, our hands touch.

In that moment I see a great cloak of white feathers envelop her, like the cloak the goddess Freya used to turn herself into a falcon. It is only there for an instant and then it vanishes. But something remains behind. A host of shadows suddenly crowd at her back. I hear cries, screams, then a silence so deep it is as if every sound in the world has been obliterated. The shadows dissolve.

Who are these ghosts she has brought here? Evil and terror surround her, like dark water swirling about a rock. The draugr feels it too. Valdis’s head swivels towards her under the veil. The draugr fears this foreign girl. He senses this fragile child holds the power to destroy him, when not even a blacksmith has strength to overcome him.

But Isabela has felt nothing. She slips an arm around Lilja, pulling her close, so that the child’s head rests on her shoulder. She smiles wearily at me. She does not know what she has brought to us. She does not understand why we have drawn her here. She thinks only of the white falcons, and her hunger for them is so all-consuming she will not listen to the shadows. She will not look at them. But she must, she must.

Fannar shuffles across to where we are sitting, and squats down next to me. His hands rest limply on his knees.

‘Eydis, we have nowhere to go … I know our neighbours would offer us shelter on their farms, but our presence would only bring trouble to them. Besides, the Danes may have already raided them too. I know you don’t have enough food to feed us all for long … we could hunt for birds, but that means going out in the daylight and I daren’t risk that yet. But Ari and I will go out after dark and steal what we can, even a sheep if we must. We will repay our neighbours for what we take from them when we are able. But we can find food for us all …’

‘Fannar, you know that you are welcome to stay as long as you need and share whatever we have, but you will not be safe here for long. Do you not feel how much hotter the cave has become since your last visit? You are sweating, so are we all.’

‘I hadn’t noticed. I was so thankful just to get here safely.’ He runs his fingers distractedly through his grizzled hair. ‘Now you mention it, I suppose it is a little warmer. But what of it?’

‘Look at the pool. See how it is bubbling, how dense the steam that rises from it. The water is too hot to touch now. The rocks beneath us are growing warmer every day. Soon the steam from that pool will be scalding. Anyone remaining in the cave will be boiled alive. I know you have troubles enough, Fannar, but you must be prepared for the day when you will have to leave this cave, and quickly. It might be weeks yet, but it could be as soon as tomorrow.’

Fannar gnaws his lip. ‘There are other caves.’

‘The rivers of fire are beginning to run beneath the earth again, every cave around here will be in danger. You will have to go far away from this mountain to be safe.’

Valdis’s lips move beneath her veil. ‘If the water begins to boil, then we will die in this cave, Fannar, for we cannot free ourselves of this chain. Don’t leave us here.’

Fannar nods gravely. ‘You need have no fear of that. I will find a way to get you loose from this chain. It may take time to break the iron bands, so as soon as Ari and I return with food, we will make a start.’

‘No!’ I cry. ‘No, you must not break the iron band. You must not. There is danger in it, danger you cannot begin to understand.’

He stares at me in astonishment. ‘But I have to. If we are forced to leave the cave in a hurry, there may not be time to set you free. And as your sister says, we can’t leave you both here to be scalded to death.’

‘You must leave us here, Fannar. If I can find a way to remove the danger first, then I will gladly let you break the iron. I will beg you to do so. But I will not allow you to do it unless I know it is safe. If Valdis asks you to break the band, you must stop your ears and not listen to her. Whatever she says, whatever promises or threats she makes, you must ignore her.’

Fannar rubs his forehead. He is struggling to make sense of what I am saying, but he is exhausted.

‘But, Eydis, we have always listened to you both and you have never misled us. You have always spoken the same word. Why should you and your sister quarrel now, and over something so important? I don’t understand. What is this danger you are talking about?’

I cannot explain it to him without terrifying him and his wife and daughters. They have been through enough. For the moment they are comforted that they are in a place of safety. They need to rest, to sleep. It is hard enough for Fannar to learn about the pool. How can I tell him that his wife and children are trapped in this cave with something far worse than the Danes? And how could he live with the knowledge that it was he himself who brought that creature of death here?

‘Valdis has changed. Something has entered her and she no longer speaks the truth, you must believe me. She is not to be trusted any more.’

‘It is Eydis who does not speak the truth. She’s gone mad. Why else would she want to die in agony in this cave? Don’t listen to her, Fannar. Listen to me. Free us and we will guide you to a place of safety where the Danes will never find you.’

‘Swear to me, Fannar,’ I beg him, ‘on the lives of your precious daughters. Swear that you will not try to break the iron bands, unless I ask you to.’

But Fannar is staring from one to the other of us, a look of complete bewilderment on his haggard face. He does not know which of us to believe, but which of us will he listen to in the end? If he chooses to trust Valdis, none of us will live to escape this cave.

Chapter Twelve

The shamans of the North say that before the world was made, there was nothing but chaos and darkness, a vast ocean which raged and foamed and would not be still. From the dark, tormented seas a tiny island emerged. Two beings appeared on the island. They were each male and female in one body, but neither being could be complete without the other.

One of these beings found a stick and broke it in two and placed it upright on the shore which was neither earth nor water, but both sea and land. The beings watched and waited. Then out of the darkness flew a white falcon and the moment it alighted on the stick, light began to creep over the island and the seas shrank back from it. The island grew bigger and bigger until it became the world.

And the falcon flew over the face of the world until he found a woman, who was fairer and more lovely than any woman who has ever lived since, and from their union, the very first shamans were born, with the power to send their spirits up into the stars.

Isabela

Cast of hawks –
two falcons working together to hunt the same quarry.

I am lost in the forest again. I feel very small. An old woman hurries along beside me. She is holding tightly to my little hand, almost dragging me. She is my grandmother. Somehow I know that. It’s dark and we are weaving between the thick tree trunks. I can see the dark smudges of others walking ahead of us. A man I know is my father carries my little brother on his back. I wish he would carry me instead. I’m tired. My legs ache. I don’t want to walk any more. I want to go home to my soft bed.

Grandmother is holding my fingers much too tightly. The ring on her finger digs into the back of my hand. It hurts. I’m too hot. I am dressed in too many layers of clothes. I want to tear them off. I feel squashed and stiff. It’s hard to bend my arms. There’s a sharp stone in my shoe. It hurts every time I put my foot down. I keep tugging on Grandmother’s hand, trying to make her stop so that I can take it out, but she yanks me forward crossly, making me run. I hate her. I want to hold my mother’s hand instead, but she is carrying the baby.

My father stops. Men are stepping out of the trees in front of us. My father whips round, staring at something behind me. I turn. More men are stepping out from the shadows behind us and walking towards us. They’re carrying cudgels and swords. One man ambles towards my grandmother, swinging his cudgel in his hand.

‘Running away, are you, Huguenot traitors?’

‘Let the children go,’ my father says. ‘Please … they are innocent.’

The man snorts. ‘What man would be so foolish as to go to the trouble of hunting down a viper, and not destroy its young? You think we want more Huguenot spawn infecting France with poison?’