Chapter Nineteen:
Salt of the Earth
The memories came slowly at first. Not even bad ones; but ones that I'd forgotten long ago in a whirlwind of pain and a court of savages. I shut my eyes, watching the scenes play out. My hands dug into the soil, burning at bits of iron that lingered among the ashes.
I toddled after my sister as fast as my four-year-old legs could muster. Her long, blond hair streaming out behind her, the ties in her dress half undone, a man's hand in her own. Where were they going? They promised to play with me, didn't they?
I didn't like the man. He smelled of the firewater that the sailors drank when they came into our village, his voice was scratchy from the sticks that hung burning from his mouth. But Ika liked him and Ika was a good judge of character. At least, she was to me.
So I made my strides longer, taking advantage of my height. I was the tallest kid my age in the village, the most agile. And I could see the tracks where my sister and the man had gone.
I found them in a clearing, their lips locked together. My sister squealed in surprise when she saw me and the man's eyes narrowed, but then he laughed. It was a sound that came deep from inside of him.
"Is this the wild little thing I keep hearing about?" he asked.
"Janneke!" Ika was fifteen years old but she sounded like my mother when she scolded me. "What are you doing here?"
"Following you," I said. Wasn't that obvious?
She sighed and pulled me up on her hip. All the women carried babies like that. But I wasn't a baby so I wriggled until she let me go. "How did you follow us? I was sure..."
"You're easy to track." I said.
The man came forward, bending down so he could be at my height. His breath still smelled, but he had a nice smile I hadn't noticed before. Maybe that was why Ika liked him. "You like tracking? Wouldn't you rather be playing with dolls, little one?"
I rose my chin and looked the man in the eyes. "My father says I'm to fulfill the male role. If I am to do it, I'll do it well."
He laughed. "She's very well spoken for her age."
Ika sighed. "Come on Janneke, let's go home."
When we got back, it was dark out and my mother fretted over me. She scolded me, told me never to go into the woods. Bad things were there. I told her I would be a huntress one day and I wasn't scared.
But I still slept curled next to her when the night came, our father in between us. I heard them whispering, but couldn't make out the words from underneath the covers. Their voices sounded worried.
This was where we slept. I was sure of it. The iron in the ashes burned my hands, but it didn't matter. I stood again and continued walking around the field, noticing which spot was which. There was a little whistle lying on the ground, iron again, the only thing that hadn't disappeared completely. In it were the ancient carved letters that meant that someone fancied a girl. Similar to the maypoles erected every summer during courting season; ones I'd never gotten.
"Why do you hate me so much, Bjørn?" I asked, kicking at the sticks in front of me as I walked side-by-side with a towheaded boy. If he could be called a boy. He was beginning to grow taller, lankier, just as I was beginning to grow breasts and bleed. We were the same age—thirteen—and I was often paired with him on hunting missions or lessons. If I had a friend in the village he was the closest thing.
"I don't hate you," he said.
"You didn't give me a pole," I said like it meant everything in the world. It did at the time, I knew.
"I don't like you that way. Besides, we're too young."
I crossed my arms. "I'm a woman. I bled just last month."
"Well May Day was two months ago. Sorry, I can't see into the future."
"I don't understand. I'm a woman, why can't I also be a woman and a huntress? Why does everyone have to forget I'm also a girl?" My hair had been braided in the style the boys wore; I wore the clothing the boys did; I had their chores. Why couldn't I even talk with the girls? Why couldn't I join them in the women's tent when I bled, instead of having to ignore it and continue hunting?
"You know why. You're not supposed to be a girl. Not really."
"But I am. My role doesn't change that."
Bjørn faced me, sighing. "You are really pretty, Janneke."
I smiled. "Does that mean you'll give me a pole?"
The boy bit his lip, then dug in his pocket, holding out something made of iron. "Here. It's a whistle. You can have it instead of the pole. It means more to me anyway."
"Thank you," I said, my insides warming as I took the whistle. Maybe one day he'd really give me something that meant he cared.
"Come on." Bjørn tugged at my hand. "If we don't find three different animal scats before noon our fathers will have our heads."
"It shouldn't be that hard," I scoffed. "Considering you're standing in some."
The boy yelped and jumped away from the bear scat he'd been standing in and I laughed and laughed and laughed.
I took the whistle in my hand, keeping it on the parts the leather glove covered. It was small and twisted and broken now. But I remembered how its high shriek used to hurt my ears and how I used to laugh every time I blew it.
Someone came beside me, kneeling down. A hiss escaped from his lips as his knee burned from the iron in the earth. "Janneke," Soren said. "Are you okay?"
His words yanked me out of the past, into the world where I belonged now. Was I okay? I didn't know. I wasn't sure how to describe what I was feeling right now. A little warm, a little cold, a little numb. It was like a mixture of ice and fire and nothingness were fighting for my attention. I wasn't sure I wanted to give in to any of them.
"I'm...just remembering." I said.
"Is that bad or good?" he asked, brushing the hair out of my face.
"It's neither. It's just remembering." I stood, letting the whistle drop.
"This was your village, wasn't it?" he asked. He had a hand on my arm like he thought I would fall or run away.
"Yes," I said. "Elvenhule. That was the name."
"Was it a nice place?" he asked.
"Before Lydian burned it to the ground? Yes." I paused as a familiar sound came pounding near. Horses hooves. Without a second thought, I turned to Soren. "Come on!" I turned to Soren and made a dash for the trees.
It was stupid. Stupid to stay in such an open place, stupid to let my feelings get to me, stupid to become unaware, even for a moment because now I heard the pounding of horses like thunder in my ears and I knew what that meant more than anyone else.
We made it to the forest line before they caught up with us and instinctively, I scanned the trees for Seppo. A whistle too low for any bird came from above me; I looked up. The young goblin was in a tree. There were no signs of the wolves. His eyes were wide with concern and his hand already reaching for the feather staff slung across his back, but I shook my head.
"Go," I mouthed, hoping that maybe if he could get away we weren't totally lost. Hreppir, Breki, Lykka. I felt them deep in the forest, they'd taken a break to rip into a rabbit carcass. Now they were licking the blood from their lips and ears perked to my call. Guide Seppo to you. He'll be in the trees.
Seppo was shaking his head but then Soren followed my gaze and he nodded slowly like he knew exactly what I was thinking. With wet eyes, Seppo bounded across the treetops, back into the forest where he was safe for the time being.
Then I turned back to the ashy field, bow and arrow in my hands to stare down the horde that had come for me. The sweet, sheer sound of the metal of Soren's swords brushing against each other filled my ears.
"We're not going to be able to fight them," he said quietly.
"I know."
The leading figure was, of course, Lydian. He sat tall on a grey-flecked mustang, his blond hair blowing in the wind. A part of it was burnt off, leaving it uneven on one side. Cuts littered his face and exposed skin and the reek of iron burns hit my nose as I remembered both his shoulder and leg had been poisoned now. By me.
"Well," he said, dismounting. "Isn't this delightful. My nephew and my sweet, little Janneka in the place where it all began."
Even though a bubble of fear rose in my chest at his voice, I refused to let it show on my face. Instead I raised my eyes to the men behind him. I counted fifteen horses; so he'd lost some men as well. Good. It's not like we can take fifteen of them, though.
"You don't sound very delighted," I said through clenched teeth. From beside me, Soren maneuvered slightly so his shoulder was blocking me.
"You wound me, Janneka."
"You'll live. I'm not yours anymore."
"Yes." He lazily drew two knives from his boots. His greatspear hung from the back of his horse, glistening with poison. "You smell like him now." He chuckled, like that amused him, and shot a smirk at Soren. "You like her as much as I did, nephew?"
A snarl ripped through the air. "Watch yourself, uncle."
Lydian sighed. "It's you two who should be watching yourselves." He motioned to his riders and they began to dismount. "I wish I could kill you now, but I need you alive, dear nephew. But I wonder, how did you ever heal from the lindworm bite?"
"I healed him," I said. Let him know how strong I was now. Let him know what I could do. Let him smell the power of the lindworm on me, let him smell the death scent of the Draugr, let him smell the blood of the goblins I killed, let him smell the wild and the wind and the anger in my veins so he knew I was not the same as I'd been before.
Lydian raised an eyebrow, interest gleaming in his emerald eyes. "Really?"
"I am a lot different than I was before, Lydian. My voice was low and soft. "I don't think you could even have any idea."
His eyes narrowed. "Oh, I've always known you would ruin the world."
I suppressed a shudder. This man would not get to me. He came closer to me with his knives; I was relieved to find they weren't poison. I dropped my bow and quiver, knowing they'd be no use in a close fight and instead gripped the stiletto in my non-ruined hand. Soren was backing off in a different direction, slowly sizing up the many goblins who were about to take him down.
"Where did you get that weapon?" Lydian asked. "It's the halfling brat's."
"I took it off his body." I spat at him and thanked the Gods that because I wasn't goblin, Lydian couldn't tell that I was lying through my teeth.
Lydian smiled, his canines poking beyond his lips. I knew that smile. "I didn't know you had that in you, little girl."
I bared my teeth. "You don't know a lot about me."
He lunged with his knives and I dodged, tumbling away. I couldn't let talking distract me; that was exactly Lydian's goal. Distract me. Anger me. Make sure I couldn't think. "I know everything about you." He laughed. "I know everything. The fact you can't see it is maddening."
"Says the madman," I hissed.
His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer. "I know your body."
I let out a snarl of my own. Yes, that was his plan and he was doing a pretty good job of it.
He and I danced for a bit, his blades went forward, I rolled in another direction to come up somewhere behind him, him already in position, rinse and repeat. I knew he was just playing with me; if he really meant to kill me then we'd be fighting like we did in the Erlking's palace.
Still, I had some tricks up my sleeve. He lunged and I waited a second too late, until his knife graze my skin, then I grabbed the hand holding it and twisting hard. The knife tumbled to the ground as I knocked my head back into his, his body now positioned behind me. One of his hands wrapped across my face, groping. Sharp talons made shallow welts until I bit down hard on what I thought as his thumb. He threw me to the ground with a force stronger than ten men and I flew back a few meters, tumbling in the dirt. My breath was heavy in my lungs as I regained my bearings only to see him stalking forward.
"That's the problem with you," he said, placing a well-aimed kick in my stomach as I tried to rise. "You and your kind are so delicate. So soft." Another kick, this time at my ribs. I rolled away, trying to create some space between us. The stiletto had been knocked out of my hand and was lying there, just a few meters away. "A simple little kick and your insides explode."
This time I saw the kick coming—right toward my chest. Risking it all, I rose and wrapped my arms around his leg, bringing him down to the ground. Scurrying above him, I pressed my fingers deep into his shoulder, where I knew the iron burn still poisoned his skin. He screamed and kicked out, his hands knocking me across the face. Again the force blew me away and again he rose, seething.
My eyes were blurring as I looked around me. I couldn't see Soren anywhere. Wildly, I flipped over to search for him. Don't leave me, don't leave me.
Before I could find him, Lydian blocked my view and sat down heavily on my chest. His hand grabbed my chin, squeezing hard until little rivulets of blood ran down my cheeks. "See, the problem with you is that everyone thinks you're so pure. The salt of the earth. That's what they call it. You amaze them." With his free hand he wrapped his fingers in my hair and I cringed away from the touch. "But I know more than anything or anyone else, Janneka. You are an abomination. You should have died the moment you were born. You and him."
Saliva mixed with blood as I spat in his face. "The Permafrost disagrees."
"The Permafrost will die," he snarled.
"Only if we let you kill it!"
His boots slammed down on both of my hands, forcing them still. "I thought I could save you, change you, I tried," he said softly. "Really, I did. But you stabbed that nail into my leg and now we're here. I'm afraid this is where your story ends. I do apologize, I really did try."
His claws lengthened into wickedly sharp talons and a shiver rolled through my body. I'd see the way goblins preferred kill other humanoids; they ripped the hearts right from their chests.
"It's okay," he whispered, stroking my cheek with the ghost of tenderness. "It'll be quick. I promise you won't feel a thing."
All I could do was stare as his hand came down.
Then a voice shouted in the distance. "Lydian!" Soren yelled. Lydian stood up and turned toward his nephew and I rolled over, heaving up everything I'd eaten in the past few days. Disgust made my skin crawl.
"What is it, Soren?" Lydian looked intrigued. Soren was standing with blood streaming from his body, turning his white hair crimson. Behind him was a trail of bodies. Some moving, some not. "You're quite the proficient fighter, I see." He scowled, shooting a loathing glance at the dead. "I thought they'd be enough to disengage you for now, I obviously thought wrong."
"You need me, right?" Soren asked. "For your stupid ritual."
"It's not stupid," Lydian hissed. "It will save everyone. It's for the greater good. I guess you can't understand that, you've been raised by greed and lust."
"I'll go with you," Soren said. "Willingly. I'll go with you and we'll fight to the death. I know as well as you do that the kill has to be made during combat for it to count to the Stag. Maybe you'll win, maybe you'll lose. But you can't force me to fight you, uncle. You know as well as I that it wouldn't count to the Stag. So, I have a proposition." Warmth and longing and regret filled Soren's eyes as he looked down on me. "Let her go. Let her go and I will fight you to the death. May the new King win."
I struggled to my feet. "No!" I screamed. "Soren, no! Don't. I'm not afraid." My feet were numb from under me and I staggered forward until I fell. "Soren, please, no. You don't need to."
The soft sounds of boots against the ashes appeared by me and his lips pressed against the top of my head. "I love you," he whispered, then said a bit louder, "and I release any hold over you by all Folk, men, and Gods. You are free of any burden or punishment the Permafrost may hold against you in the court of the Erlking or of the Clans. I break the binds that tie you and leave you free from my world, from my kind, from me."
I crumpled to the ground as white, agonizing pain blazed behind my eyes. It was as if someone set my mind on fire, letting molten lead drip down my throat until I suffocate slowly. Twisting and contorting, fighting for breath, fighting for a way past the pain of the broken bind, he whispered to me one last time. Three little words that set my heart ablaze.
The world went black as he walked away.
AN:
What do you think of Soren's sacrifice? He's a noble idiot, isn't he?
For more idiotic sacrifices, check out my other story ASHES COME DAWN.