Gunhilde shook her head sadly. “We captured one,” she said, “who was a commander here. Let us speak with him and see what he has to say for himself.”
***
Sif had never felt so tired and yet so alive at the same time. It was as if she had reached deep inside herself to discover great reserves of energy that she had not known even existed. Discovering these reserves had been an exhausting process, but now that she had found them, Sif felt as though she had discovered a deep well of hitherto untapped energy.
Goddess, am I truly what my Elder Sisters have told me that I am? A once in a generation talent, eclipsing all of them…even Lady Brede?
“Hey there,” said Hakon softly, breaking her musings. Sif looked at him, startled. How long had he been standing there?
“You looked a thousand miles away,” said Hakon. “Where were you?”
“I’m changing, Hakon,” Sif replied, and trembled. “Something has started, and I don’t know what it means. I feel like I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”
Hakon took her by the shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “You are Sif Astridsdottir,” he said, clearly and firmly. “I have known you for your whole life. We played together from the time we were children. You are the love of my life, my woman. You are not alone, and whatever happens, I will be by your side.”
Sif felt the panic begin to recede as the truth of Hakon’s words washed over her. She slowed down her breathing and leaned her head forwards until her forehead touched that of Hakon’s. His hands came up to cup her cheeks.
“Thank you, my love,” Sif whispered. “I’m going to need you.”
“You have me,” replied Hakon, and he suddenly let out a laugh that felt to Sif like refreshing cool water. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” he chuckled.
“Thank Freyja for that,” said Sif with conviction. She felt grounded once more, after her brief attack of panic. She straightened. “Come,” she said. “We should be there when they question this so-called commander.”
“If you’re sure,” said Hakon gently. “If you need rest, take it. I mean it.”
“I know. Believe me, with how I’m feeling, rest is the last thing that I need.”
“As you say,” said Hakon, guiding her by the arm, as if he feared she might break. They made their way to where the Elder Sisters had gathered.
Gunnar looked up as the couple arrived. “This man is not a stranger to us,” he said grimly. “Hello, good fellow! The Jarl’s councils get a bit boring, did they?”
The cluster of witches parted, and they looked upon the face of Eirik, the heavily built member of Jarl Birger’s council. Sif gasped in dismay and whirled to face Gunhilde.
“We were attacked by theJarl?” Sif cried, outraged.
“So it seems,” said Gunhilde, her face set like stone. “You have been named, Eirik Norvikson. We know who you are. Now explain yourself.”
The Jarl’s councilor struggled briefly against his bonds then seemed to think better of such an unseemly display. “I represent the interests of Jarl Birger of Visby and speak with his authority. I demand that you untie me,” he said arrogantly.
“The Jarl’s authority became somewhat tarnished when he promised us safekeeping and then tried to slaughter us,” observed Gunhilde dryly.
“Where is this promise of safekeeping?” demanded Eirik loudly. “Is it written down? Was it witnessed?”
“Ah,” said Sigrid, “so that’s how the Jarl seeks to excuse treachery. It was neither of these things, and you know it, else you would not ask.”
“Then without any evidence of teachery, I demand my release,” insisted the councilor.
“There is still the matter of your unprovoked attack upon my Sisters,” said Sif hotly.
“The Jarl had the right to defend his territory!” bellowed Eirik.
Gunhilde looked off in the distance for a moment, and her eyes blazed as she looked down once more upon the bound councilor. “Well, he’s not doing such a rutting good job, is he?” she demanded, grasping Eirik by the hair and wrenching his head in the direction of the city.
Thick black smoke rose from Visby’s harbor.
“The Skraelings have come,” snarled Gunhilde.
Chapter Seven
