throw it across the mare’s back.
Ginna dashed in front of
her father.
"Father, nei! I'm
going with him!"
"Nonsense!"
He pushed her backward,
into her mother's arms. She wrestled against the older woman's grip, thrashing.
"I'm going! Do you
hear me?" She wept as she sunk down to her knees. "Rolf. Please."
Erik shoved Rolf up onto
his mare; then Erik clambered onto his own horse. Rolf attempted to steady
himself in his saddle, wobbling like a bottle bobbing on the waves. Hummel
parted the heavy wood doors enough for them to pass, counting under his breath.
"Three. Four. Five.
Six."
Ginna sat on the ground,
staring at Rolf with disbelief as he rode by.
"Please. Oh, by the
Goddess, please." Tears streaked her summer skin.
"Seven. Eight. Nine."
The moon hung low,
encircled with fog. Erik kicked his mare into a trot. Rolf followed, bobbling
around in his seat. The brisk air encouraged them to pick up their pace and
they broke into a canter across the field, Ginna's sobs echoing against their
backs.
"Ten!" called
Hummel behind them.
The dark night enveloped
them and a chill settled in Erik’s bones.
"Holy Valhalla,
brother."
"What?" Rolf
stammered, nodding from side to side, Idunn snorting under his weight.
"Now look what
you've gotten us into. You might as well have sung dirty songs and gotten it
over with."
Erik slapped the back of
the black with his reins. She tightened her haunches, unwilling to move any
faster.
"We got dinner,"
Rolf slurred.
Erik's mare suddenly stopped
short, refusing to go on.
"Now, what?"
Erik mumbled. He lowered himself to the ground, patting the big black’s neck. Erik
had learned from Emma to always trust an animal's instincts. Always. The horse
bucked backward. Erik gripped the reins tightly, pulling her nose down.
"Easy Beyla, easy."
Erik tugged the beast
along by the leather straps for a hundred paces, laboring in the dark, Rolf's
mare following until the black balked out of Erik's control.
Rolls of gray mist
swirled. Rolf blurred in the haze, a silhouetted figure, as he slid from Idunn,
catching his foot in the stirrup as he dismounted.
"Whoa!" Rolf
landed with a thud on the ground.
Idunn twitched her head
up and down with nervous excitement, hide quivering in the darkness.
"Hush." Erik
held out his hand in the congealing mist. His ears pricked. Footsteps sounded close
by, crunching over the rough ground. "Stay here. And stay out of trouble."
Unsure of his footing,
Erik walked in a wide circle around his brother and the horses, while Rolf
tried to right himself on the ground. The rocky soil made for dangerous
footholds as the Skaggs loomed before them like giants in the fog. Erik
listened, peering out into night. Though he couldn’t see a soul, goose bumps
punctuated his skin. His hand tightened on the hilt of his broadsword. A thump
sounded nearby, followed by a muffled grunt.
Erik rushed back to
where he’d left Rolf and the horses. Beyla whinnied. Idunn pounded her hoof
against the ground. Erik searched the area for Rolf, but his younger brother
had vanished.
"Rolf!" Erik called.
"Rolf. Where are you?"
Erik threw up his hands,
unable to discern if Rolf was missing and in trouble or simply drunk and passed
out. Then he glimpsed movement. A burlap bag swung from a nearby tree branch,
twitching.
"Great gods Rolf! Now
you've gotten yourself tied up in a bear trap!" Erik laughed, relaxing,
tramping over to the bag and poking at it with an outstretched finger. "Brother,
what will you get yourself into next?"
Rolf’s muffled voice
answered, too jumbled to understand.
The scampering of feet
sounded behind him—footsteps scrambling across ground. Erik spun, unsheathing
his sword, wielding the blade in the air. A sting pricked the back of his neck.
He reached around to investigate and produced a small arrow, tip covered in
blood—his blood. He squinted, trying to focus, but the landscape clouded around
him. He spun, unable to grasp the leering faces as they sauntered
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