Hradi.
Images, short and ever-changing, assailed her dazed thoughts. Even just the scent of him on the pillows was enough to send her into turmoil, both feared and anticipated. She resisted the visions, trying to block them, but failed. With a groaning sigh, she turnedagain, reaching out once more to curl her fingers around her wand. Soon, her panic calmed, the visions finally fading.
Still, sleep eluded her while she sought to understand today's events. What seemed only moments later, a gentle poke drew Katrin from her fitful slumber. How she longed to resist, to sink deeper into the arms of the sleep that had finally claimed her. Despite the yearning, her sense of duty awakened, spurring her to shed her exhaustion. She opened her eyes.
Her heart slammed into her chest, bringing her to full wakefulness. Hradi stood beside the bunk, his dark eyes piercing her. Sliding into a sitting position, she pulled the furs up to her chin.
"I will be with you when I have dressed."
He remained silent, though she detected numerous messages in his gaze. She drew the curtains shut once more and set about attiring herself. Once properly clothed, she left the bunk, carefully sliding her wand into her satchel. After tending her personal needs with the large basin set nearby, she found her way to the great hall, where servants and villagers alike lay sprawled across the floors, tables and benches. Likely the pause in the feast would last only a few hours more before resuming into a celebration. As long as the morning ceremony proceeded as hoped. If they were forced to remain in this village through the winter, any of Gunilla's usual strategies must be convincing. The slightest misstep could exact a dire cost for all of them.
Hradi appeared suddenly beside her. Had he been hiding, lying in wait for her? What did he hope to discover?
"Are you ready to join your mistress?"
Katrin nodded. "Has an appropriate sacrifice been selected?"
Hradi strode toward the wide wooden doors. "My father and Gunilla arranged everything last night. I assume all is ready."
Katrin fell into step alongside him, trying to keep her focus on the upcoming ceremony. Unfortunately, her gaze and thoughts returned again and again to the man beside her. Why had heappeared in her dreams? Why did such powerful visions overtake her when she looked into his eyes? Were the gods trying to send her a message, and if so, what did it mean? Her first instinct was to ask Gunilla, but that strange warning against doing so still thrummed in the back of her thoughts.
Oddly, she wanted to share these chaotic thoughts with Hradi. Why? The question rang through her head, over and over, relentlessly taunting. He stirred a passion she'd never imagined, and didn't quite understand. Until she discerned what all the riotous visions and feelings meant, she would keep all of it to herself.
The night sky slowly lightened, asManíbegan his descent back under Midgard, allowing Sól to soon ride her chariot across the sky. Would there be enough time to complete the sacrifice? This ceremony was intended to make a genuine offering to both thank and ask the gods for their blessings, before Gunilla began her scheme of gaining as much wealth as possible before discovery. Only with Katrin's help would the ritual be performed properly, gaining the jarl's and his clan's trust. She dared another glance at the man beside her. Why did she suspect he might be the most difficult to convince? More importantly, why did she not want to deceive him? Jeopardizing the chances of gaining her freedom was not something she was willing to risk, not even for her Dream Man. What she truly needed was time to meditate and make her own offerings; ask for clarity amid the tumultuous turn her life had taken.
He led her across the large village square and toward the fields and forests beyond. The glow of torches lit the sky as ifSólhad already begun her daily journey. Gunilla and Jarl Thorfinn stood beside each other at the head of a shallow pit. The otherVölvaserving Katrin's mistress stood in neat rows along the sides. A large ceremonial cauldron rested in the middle of the pit, directly underneath a large wooden frame with many ropes secured to the crossbar and supports.
Katrin knew the instant Gunilla saw her and turned to face her mistress. A simple blink from the older woman was the signal to stand beside her. Katrin obeyed, pausing a moment more, unable to prevent herself from turning to face Hradi again.
His expression was cold and somber, but his eyes pierced as sharp and hot as ever. With an uneasy quiver, she turned toward the head of the pit. Gunilla's stare held many questions, but the silver-haired witch said nothing, simply waiting patiently while Katrin readied her wand. Avoiding her mistress' probing gaze, she took a deep breath and lifted her shoulders.
***
Hradi moved to stand beside his brother, his gaze never leaving the young witch. He leaned close to Kori's ear.
"You are right, again, brother."
Without turning to face him, Kori asked, "How so?"
"I can use her desire for me to get her to tell me the truth about this Gunilla."
A low chuckle escaped his brother. "Enjoy yourself."
"I will," Hradi assured him.
And he would. The taste of her sweet lips melting under his last night still lingered. She was as pure as newly fallen snow, he had no doubt. Why? The other girls serving the older witch had indulged freely with many of the clan's warriors during the feast. One more mystery about the young girl who had caught his eye from the moment she stepped from the boat yesterday.
Despite the acrid smoke from the torches burning his eyes, he had a fairly clear view of her, standing between Gunilla and his father. The silver-haired witch began to chant, offering a prayer to the gods and waving her wand in a manner that Katrin soon mimicked. The women's wands worked in a cohesive and eloquent duet, the older woman's voice growing louder with each recitation of her incantation. The patterns the women made with the carved wood entranced him. With a shake of his head, he glanced around, noting that those assembled also seemed enraptured by themagical dance the two women performed with simple sticks of wood. His gaze once more settled on Katrin, honing in on her lips while she chanted with her mistress. Good thing he stood where he was. Any closer to the young mystic, he might be tempted to take another taste.
Finally, they paused and both witches lowered their wands. Silence reigned in the eerie pre-dawn torchlight. Katrin and her mistress raised their wands again, this time pointing straight ahead. Those assembled turned.
Three young men led a lazy stepping stallion. Though past his prime for a warhorse, the animal was a good choice for an offering to the gods, having served loyally, sired several other valuable steeds, and had respectably earned the honor of being offered to Odin and the rest of the Aesir. Finally, the beast stood at the opposite edge of the shallow pit from the witches and his father. At that moment, Thorfinn stepped forward.
"With the blessings of theseVölurand the pleasure of Odin, Thor and all of the Aesir, we humbly thank you for a successful growing season."
He turned to Gunilla, who passed him a sacred dagger. The horse was pulled into the pit, until it stood beneath the framework of ropes and pulleys. For a few moments, the stallion perked up and pawed the ground, resisting those who held him. The young men quickly subdued the beast sufficiently for Thorfinn to approach.
"We also humbly plead for your protection in the coming months and offer this sacrifice to honor you."
