Such an unusual man, really.Sif was struck by Gunnar’s carefree manner, even in the face of such danger.For all the years I’ve known him, I’ve rarely seen him downhearted, at least not for more than a few moments. Gunnar Brynson carries his life lightly in his hands, as if its gain or loss matters little.Sif glanced at Hakon, whose eyes were warily scanning the horizon.Such a contrast with my Hakon. He grips things fiercely and does not let them go. Hakon feels so deeply it scares me sometimes. His emotions burn within him.Sif smiled.They keep me warm.
As the East Gate came into sight, Gunhilde raised her hand for the column to stop, out of bowshot range. She untied Eirik’s bonds. “Now we’ll see what you’re good for, young man,” she said briskly and led a sputtering and protesting councilor towards the gate.Hakon, Gunnar, and Sif followed behind them. As they came closer, Gunhilde poked Eirik in the back.
“Hail the gate!” cried Eirik. “We come to aid the city! Open the gate!”
“Who says so?” came the challenge from behind the walls.
“Eirik Norvikson, of the Jarl’s Council!” bellowed the councilor. “For the love of Thor, man! Open the gate! The city is under attack, and I bring aid!”
There was a brief moment of silence behind the walls then, “How do we know you haven’t been bewitched?”
“By all the gods!” shouted Eirik, the last shreds of his patience gone. “Jensen Leifson, is that you? Open the gate right now, or I will make sure with my last breath to put a battle-axe up your arse and give it a twist!”
Gunnar glanced at Hakon, raising his eyebrows at the crude threat and nodding appreciatively. Hakon fought to suppress a grin. There was another momentary silence, and then the sound of heavy bolts being shifted. One of the two doors of the East Gate was pulled open.
“Thank the goddesses for that,” breathed Gunhilde. “Eirik, take me to the Jarl. We will have toreach an understanding very quickly. Baedi, take our Sisters to the docks, where the fighting is fiercest. Sif, you join her.”
“Sif stays with me,” said Hakon firmly. “Gunnar and I go to save his foster family, and Sif will remain by my side. Come, Sif,” he said, turning to face his woman.
Sif hesitated, glancing between Hakon and Gunhilde.
“Sacred Freyja, we have no time for this, fighting man!” said Gunhilde in exasperation. “You want her with you to keep her safe. I want her with Baedi to save lives.” The Elder Sister took a breath. “Choose, Sif, and be quick about it. We have no time.”
Sif closed her eyes so she would not have to see Hakon looking at her. Yes, Hakon was her man, and she had given herself to him. But a choice between guarding her own life and saving the lives of others was no choice at all. She opened her eyes, looked squarely at Hakon, and said, “I love you.” Then she turned and ran after Baedi.
Gunhilde nodded, said to Gunnar, “Find Ignetha,” and marched towards the Jarl’s hall with Eirik in tow. Hakon stood still, looking at where Sif had gone.
“In fairness, a hard woman to refuse,” said Gunnar, clapping Hakon on the shoulder. “Come. I’ve an idea of where they might be sheltering.”
***
Sif tried to focus on the task ahead of her as she ran, but her chest was in pain, as if her heart had been torn out. Refusing her man had come at a terrible cost, but what else could she do? Lives were at stake.
That’s not all,whispered a voice in her brain.You felt the hints of your power during the battle at Thorulf’s farm. You want to find out what else you can do.Sif shoved those thoughts down firmly as she caught up to where Baedi was standing.
The Elder wasted no time. “The Skraelings are using fire to cause fear, confusion, and destruction,” said Baedi. “You must end it.”
“Half the dockside is burning!” said Sif. “What would you have me do?”
“Open your mind to me,” commanded Baedi. “I will give you the song. You must put your power behind it.”
Within a flash, it was done, and Sif saw the words and rhythms unspool through her mind. She knewwhat she had to do. Sif planted her feet firmly on the ground, shoulder width apart, and began a hum deep in her chest that seemed to come from the earth itself.
The young witch felt as if she was directing a great river of energy to flow through her body, her mind acting as a dam against the rising pressure building within her. The sheer amount of power she was channeling was terrifying and intoxicating at the same time. Finally, just at the point she was certain her mind must swell and burst, she changed the tone and tempo of the song. The energy that Sif had accumulated exploded upwards into the sky, a beam of coruscating brilliance that slammed into the heavy cloud cover that hung in the skies.
A moment later, rain fell from the sky in a crushing downpour that was simultaneously soaking and blinding. Sif could not see more than a few feet in front of her face, and the rain was falling so heavily that it physically hurt. However, not even the oppressive rainfall could dim Sif’s exuberance. She had done it! An enormous amount of power had passed through her, and far from feeling drained or exhausted, she felt wildly alive. She wanted to strip naked and dance in the rain she had created by sheer force of will. She wanted to find Hakon and fuck himin the town square while lightning crackled through their writhing bodies.
“Sacred Freyja,” breathed Baedi, wiping the rain from her face. “I’ve never heard of, much less seen, such a manifestation of power.” The Elder witch looked at Sif and paled. “Your eyes, Sif…they’re glowing!”
“Why shouldn’t they?” laughed Sif. “Now show me those Skraelings! I’ll burn the hearts out of them!”
“Wait,” intoned Baedi, holding up a hand and closing her eyes. “Gunhilde is telling me about the nature of the battle.” The witch put a hand on Sif’s arm. “Open your mind, that you may see and hear as well.”
Sif obeyed, and gasped as her mind struggled to process the images flooding in. Several of the witches must have sent their minds into the local ravens and birds of prey, as the views of the battlefield were soaring vistas from above. Gunhilde was using her powerful mind to weave many different perspectives together in order to make a complete picture.
Visby was being taken by the Skraelings. There could be no denying it. They had gained a foothold at the docks and were slowly but steadily penetrating deeper and deeper into the city. Sif’s rainstorm hadquelled the fires, as well as the panic that came with the blazes, and had given the defenders time to collect themselves. Despite this, the defenders were still losing.
“The city is lost,” said Baedi, and Sif felt despair break through her manic euphoria. She knew it was true. She had seen it for herself.
