I braided my hair for war, letting it fall down my back in long woven strands. I checked all my armor and weapons one last time, and looked up from the top of my gaze to watch Fiske do the same. How many times had we both done this before, preparing to fight one another?
I pulled his hair back into a tight knot and took the kol from my saddlebag so I could rim his eyes with my thumbs. Then I sat on the cot and looked up at him so he could paint it onto me. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as his calloused fingers dragged over my skin.
“Will it work?” I asked.
His hands stilled on me and I opened my eyes. “Yes,” he answered.
But I wasn’t as sure. I’d come close to death too many times. Whatever favor Sigr had given me was probably running out. “If I die tomorrow”—I swallowed—“you’ll take care of Iri.”
He nodded. He wasn’t going to say it wouldn’t happen because we’d both seen enough clansmen fall to know it could. “And if you don’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He looked down into my face, putting the words together in his mind before he said them. “If you go back to Hylli, I want to come with you.”
I twisted the corner of the blanket in my hands. “What about your family?”
“I’ll go where you go.” This time, the words were unyielding.
I nodded, trying to suck in a breath past the tears coming up in my throat. I didn’t want to cry. I reached for him and he came down onto his knees in front of me, between my legs, and he let out a long breath as he leaned into me. I held his weight, holding him tightly. “I didn’t want to ask you,” I said in a cracked whisper.
He set his head onto my shoulder. “You didn’t have to ask me.”
I smiled, my lips pressed to his ear. Because Fiske lived in lockstep with his heart. He did what he believed in. It was the reason he hadn’t left Iri in the trench and the reason he’d taken me home.
He climbed up onto the cot beside me and tangled his legs into mine. I pulled the blanket over us and watched him fall deep into a dream, his face relaxing and the lines that creased his forehead smoothing. I kissed him there and looked at him until my eyes were too heavy to stay open.
And then I followed him into sleep.
*
A distant whistle sounded and my eyes popped open. Fiske was already rolling onto his feet, rubbing his face with both of his hands and pulling his boots on. I sat up slowly, finding mine in the dark and standing so I could fit my scabbard to me. I crossed my arms over my chest, hooking my fingers over my shoulders, and let Fiske tighten the clasps. He tucked the idol of my mother inside, against my chest. I’d hoped the ache in my shoulder would be better.
The rest of the camp readied outside as I worked at his armor, checking everything twice. When my hands went back a third time, he caught them with his and waited for me to look up at him.
“Left side, near the dock.” His voice was still waking. “I’ll be there with Iri.”
I nodded. I’d been right about Vidr’s plans. He’d made Fiske head of one of the groups.
He pulled my hand up and opened my fist, pressing his lips to my palm, and the feel of him ran through me, grounding me. Then his lips found mine in the dark, soft and warm, molding against mine.
“?nd eldr.” I whispered his people’s battle cry against his lips. Breathe fire.
He smiled, taking the back of my head with his hand and kissing my cheek. “?nd eldr.”
We ducked out of the tent, into the predawn darkness. He squeezed my hand one last time before he took off down the path, falling in line with the other Riki headed to their places. I didn’t look back as I ran in the opposite direction, toward the Aska. Each clan had their job and if we succeeded, we’d see the Riki in Hylli.
Those of us who made it.
I came up on the line, looking for Myra. I saw my father first and his eyes caught mine as I came to him. He leaned low to kiss me before he pushed me to my place without a word.
Myra was already waiting for me and we checked each other’s armor again.
Her eyes dropped down to my shoulder. “How is it?”
I rolled it back on itself and it hurt. “I can use it. But it’s weak,” I admitted.
She nodded, pressing her lips together. “Then stay on my right.”
She would have to lead with her left and her left wasn’t her strong side. But I’d done as much for her in the past. It’s what we did for each other. It’s how we survived. And being back on the front line with her was like going home. A home that could never be burned or broken.
I turned toward the blackened eastern valley. We couldn’t see the forest that separated us from the Herja, but it was there. And we knew that forest. We’d been fighting in it all our lives.
I reached into my vest for the idol of my mother and my fingers hit something else. I fished it from where it was tucked against my heart and I held it out before me. A smile pulled wide at my lips, threatening tears. It was a taufr, the talismans the Riki used to protect the ones they loved. Fiske must have slipped it into my vest with the idol. The stone was smooth and black, the words etched into its surface.
Ala sál. Soul bearer.
I returned the taufr to my vest.
Myra lifted her shield in front of her and I pulled my sword and axe free, feeling their weight at my sides. My clansmen’s prayers began and I joined them, pinning my eyes on the darkness as my heart picked up speed. Each muscle awakened around every bone, calling my body to life.
I prayed to Sigr for my father and Myra. I prayed to Thora for Iri and Fiske.
The whistle sounded and we started at an even run. Our feet hit the ground almost in unison and we melted into the forest before us, keeping our lines as we wove in and out of the trees. As we came up on scouts, the Aska to our right cut them down, dropping them on the forest floor one at a time. We reached the other side of the forest and the stars still hung over the camp in a clear, crisp sky. The Herja who were keeping watch were right where we needed them to be.
We sunk low to the ground and came down the hill, spreading out around the eastern side of the camp. And we didn’t stop. We moved together like a flock of birds and I signaled to Myra when I picked a tent. She tipped her chin in answer and followed me as I cut left. We stopped at both sides of the opening and I caught her eyes in the moonlight before I slipped inside, my feet silent on the damp ground.
There were two cots, one man and one woman. We didn’t hesitate. We each stood over a sleeping body, knives in the air, and I swallowed a breath as I pressed one hand to the Herja woman’s mouth and dragged the blade over her throat. She kicked back and I leaned into her, trapping the shriek as she writhed beneath me. I waited for her to go still.
Behind me, Myra was already waiting at the opening.
We ran to the next tent and the other Aska darted in the dark around us. We killed seven more sleeping Herja before the first loud scream rang out in the silence. I froze, standing over the still-warm body on the cot, listening over the sounds of my breath coming fast.
Mumbling.
Something being knocked over.
The whistle. They knew we were here.
I pivoted on my heel as the camp erupted in shouting and a man sprung from the opening of the tent beside us, wielding his axe. I swung my arm over my head and let mine fly. It struck him in the shoulder and he fell to his knees before landing on his face, burying my axe.
I ran and slid in the dirt, rolling him over to retrieve it as another man came from behind us. Myra ran him through with her sword and clicked her tongue at me. Time to go. I hopped up, digging a heel into the ground to propel me forward, back toward the forest with the Aska. My sword and axe slid into place and I ran.
The panic in the camp spread quickly behind us and the sound of shouts and clanging metal filled the air as the Herja called out orders. I jumped over a body on the ground, looking around us. Our numbers were still good. We could make it.