Winds of Fate Read online

  “Make sure they get to wherever they need to go,” the könig said.

  “These three,” muttered the corner.

  “Ah, right, there are three of them,” the könig said, correcting himself.

  “Just get them there or what?” The warrior looked at the könig questioningly.

  “If anything happens, keep them safe. Just keep an eye on the situation, and you’ll be fine.” Harald waved his fingers around in the air.

  “Am I in charge?” Sven asked.

  “No, he is.” The mug waved at me, which surprised me. I thought Gunther would be running point.

  “Got it,” Sven said, nodding. “Consider it done.”

  “König, just remember that we don’t know where we’ll be going after we see the vala. We may head off to find Ulfrida; we may come back here; or we may just do some burg-visiting,” I noted. Gunther had already left to get Duke.

  “That’s fine; he’ll go with you,” Harald assured me. “Plus, he’s been to all the burgs.”

  “Are we going to Striklerd, too?” Sven asked, perking up.

  “Is that a burg?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then, yes, we are.”

  “Excellent!” The mercenary licked his lips. “They have great ale there, maybe the best in the North.”

  “Ale?” It was Flosy’s turn to perk up. “Sounds good to me!”

  He started peeling himself up off the floor, where he’d been laying like a pile of dirty rags.

  “Flosy, how are you feeling?” I asked diplomatically, hoping for a not that great in reply.

  “My head’s still buzzing a bit, but that should go away soon,” he answered, standing up and wobbling like a sapling in the breeze. “Where are those rats who took the könig’s daughter? I’ll be damned if I don’t kill them all—on my own even.”

  The könig looked at Flosy with barely concealed pride that his people were so devoted. He may stink, but at least he’s courageous, I could see him thinking as Sven smirked next to me. Once again, I felt like I was part of some avant-garde performance. Thank God, the könig ordered us to march out into the courtyard.

  By the time we got there, Gunther had appeared on horseback, and I had realized that I was in for an interesting time of it. Flosy had reeled off a few dances; he and Sven had scuffled, with the könig hooting at them from the sidelines; and then they’d all had a competition to see who could spit the farthest (the könig won). In a word, we’d spent the time well and profitably. It was just a good thing von Richter didn’t take too long, or the group would have gone completely crazy.

  “Well,” the könig said, brushing off his palm and waving it at us. “Have a good trip. This is a sacred deed you’re doing, rescuing my daughter and punishing evil, and I…Well, I think I’m going to go take a nap. Here.”

  He gave me two scrolls and the bracelet before turning on his heel and walking back into the palace.

  “Give me a scroll.” Sven held out his hand. “Where are we going?”

  “To Tirskhov Grove where Rina the vala lives,” I told him. “That’s who we need to talk to.”

  “I visited her once, so I know the place,” Sven replied with a nod. The scroll flashed, and I could see it wasn’t his first time handling one.

  We stepped out of the portal next to an oak grove—if one could call that many oak trees a grove—and saw a squat house a few steps away from it. A small fence topped with horse skulls surrounded the house. Thick smoke billowed out of the chimney.

  “Well, this house obviously belongs to a nice old lady,” I pointed out sarcastically.

  “I told you she’s a witch,” responded Flosy, following his observation with a hiccup.

  “All girls are witches,” said Sven knowledgeably. “This one isn’t any better or worse than all the rest.”

  “Please be more respectful when discussing ladies,” von Richter said loftily.

  The drama was starting to get to me, so I put a stop to it. “Enough! We’ll go talk to the old lady and see for ourselves who and what she is.”

  “I’m not going; I’ll just walk around here a little,” Gunther answered quickly, getting down off his horse.

  “I’m not going either, but that’s because I’m afraid,” Flosy said, laying down in the grass and falling asleep immediately.

  “A pair of old maids and their little pony.” I spat and went off toward the house with Sven, who didn’t appear to have ever been afraid of anything in his life.

  “He’s a stallion!” yelled von Richter as we went. “And I’m not an old maid!”

  I ignored him, though I quickened my pace just in case.

  The house was very old, although, like my family’s dacha, good workmanship and building materials meant it was in no hurry to collapse.

  I knocked on the door and heard a deep womanly voice call out in response. “Come in, whoever you are.”

  As we walked in, I bumped my head on the doorframe and stopped to rub my forehead.

  The room was fairly large and featured a roaring fire in the hearth. In the middle, stood a small, gray-haired old lady wearing a robe with wide sleeves. I looked around for a second woman, not thinking that the voice we’d heard could belong to the one in front of us.

  “Did you lose someone, warrior?” So I guess that was her.

  “No, just looking around. You don’t happen to be Rina the vala, do you?”

  “I am; I won’t hide that. What brought you here? Man problems? Unlucky in love?” Rina asked with a compassionate warmth in her voice.

  It struck me that the adorable woman knew exactly why we were there and was just having some fun laughing at me. “No, everything works down there, and I’m fine on the love front, too. We have something else we need to talk about.”

  If the old lady wants to have her fun, who am I to stand in the way? It’s no skin off my back.

  “My name is Hagen, this is Sven, and we were sent by König Harald.”

  “I know this one,” she said, nodding at Sven, “but I’ve never seen you before. But, given that Harald, himself, sent you, and you aren’t lying about that, have a seat there on the bench and let’s talk.”

  We sat down across from her, and I looked up to see her staring in my direction.

  “Here’s the thing,” I started. “The könig’s daughter, a beauty by the name of Ulfrida, was kidnapped.”

  I told her the whole story. She listened carefully, nodding at certain points, and showing sympathy for the könig and his family.

  “So you’re our last hope, Rina. Can you use the bracelet to tell us where the könig’s daughter is? We need to help her before something really bad happens.”

  The vala got up, meandered around the room with her hands behind her back, and only then came over and gestured for me to give her the bracelet. I handed it to her. Eyes closed, she tightened her grip on it.

  “Ah, she’s seeing the past…and the future!” whispered Sven, who sat next to me. “I love watching her do this.”

  “Sh-h-h.” I jabbed him with my elbow. “Don’t distract her.”

  The vala stood there for a good five minutes before turning pale, unclasping her hands, and opening her eyes.

  “Here’s what I can tell you, hirdmen,” she said, sitting on a very low bench across from us. “I saw who took Ulfrida and where they took her. By the way, why did you say that she’s a beauty?”

  Rina looked at me. Sven roared with laughter.

  “Oh, I don’t know, she’s the könig’s daughter and a young woman,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. “If the gods had a shred of conscience, all young women would be beautiful.”

  “Ah, warrior, there is much you haven’t seen in this life. Anyway, you will, if fate allows it. Sven, would you do something for me?” The old lady’s voice took on an incredibly snide tone.

  “Whatever you wish, wise one.” Sven was gallant and respectful. He obviously knew something I didn’t.

  “When you find Ulfrida, tell her what this jarl
said.”

  “Jarl?” Sven looked at me in surprise, though he caught himself quickly and continued. “As you wish, wise one.”

  I was taken aback as well. When did I become a jarl? Maybe it’s just a way of expressing respect, something like laird.

  “So, what about the könig’s daughter? Where is she?” I asked, trying to get back on track.

  “Gedran took her to the coast and gave her to some mercenaries. Like him,” the vala said, pointing at Sven.

  “She gave her to some of ours?” the Sea King exclaimed in surprised. “That’s strange. Who would get involved with something like that?”

  “I don’t know the person’s name,” Rina said with a shrug, “but his ship has an unusual decoration on the front. It isn’t the head of a dragon or a serpent; it’s the head of a horse.”

  “Torsfel the Crooked,” Sven said confidently. “That old rat! Striped sails, blue and green?”

  “Yes,” replied Rina.

  “You know him?” I asked Sven quickly.

  “Of course. That troll cub owes me a life,” answered Sven angrily. “The Crooked crucified my brother on the nose of his ship; he died of cold there. And I’m not the only one who feels that way—quite a few Sea Kings would like to cut out his liver.”

  “He left the coast,” continued the vala. “Now, he’s on an island not far away with cliffs that look like needles.”

  “Forswick, an island fifteen miles or so away from the mainland.” Sven ground his teeth together. “I heard he moved his base there.”

  “He’ll be there another two days, today and tomorrow, and then he’s taking Ulfrida with him on his drakkar to the Ice Wall.”

  “Wait a second,” I broke in. “Why the Ice Wall? He’s taking her to Fomor?”

  “Yes,” the witch nodded. “The mercenary serves him now, and not for money; he fears him or maybe respects him. He named Fomor his master.”

  “What’s the world coming to?” Sven clutched his head. “A Sea King, a free warrior, and he called someone his master!”

  “Things aren’t how they used to be,” I agreed. “Rina, did Fomor give the order to kidnap the könig’s daughter?”

  “Oh, look at you,” she replied, wagging her finger at me. “That he did. Though he wasn’t the one who hatched the plan, he immediately agreed when the idea was presented to him. He needs the könig in his pocket, and holding his daughter as a permanent guarantee of his cooperation will get him exactly that.”

  She dipped her fist demonstratively in her pocket.

  “Agreed,” I said. “Sounds like the idea was Gedran’s, the old witch. But what I can’t figure out is how she kidnapped Ulfrida without anyone noticing. How did she get herself and her skeletons into the palace?”

  “Think,” the vala responded, squinting one eye at me. “Maybe she didn’t get inside, hmm?”

  “Great, now you’re talking in riddles.” I sighed.

  “What riddles?” she asked with a smile. “Okay, warriors, time for you to go. You don’t have much time—none at all, really. I told you where to look for the girl, so the rest is up to you.”

  “Well, yes,” I said sadly, “but what is there to do?”

  “You can think of that for yourself, Jarl. I told you everything I know. Although…okay, here’s one piece of advice for you: don’t refuse help, and don’t accept just any help, either.”

  Fortunetellers are all the same. They leave you in a fog so thick you can’t even see your own hand.

  Rina didn’t tell us anything else, instead practically shoving us out the door.

  You completed a quest: Conversations with a Vala

  To get your reward, talk to König Harald.

  Reward:

  800 experience

  +1 respect among the peoples of the North

  Eivaz Rune

  The next quest in the series

  I scratched my head and looked at Sven.

  “So, you said half the North hates that Torsfel?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  In which the hero starts pulling strings.

  “Oh, everyone has their list of livers they’d like to cut out,” shrugged Sven. “You can always find a reason. But the Crooked is a little different in the sheer number of people who’d like to get at his throat. There aren’t many he hasn’t gotten on the wrong side of.”

  “That bad a person, huh?” I replied.

  “A walking piece of filth,” Sven said, confirming my assumption. “And has been for a while.”

  “So if the jarls who like him least find out where he is and how they can nail him to the wall, they’d do the job for free? Or would they still want money for it?”

  “Ha!” Sven grinned. “They may be willing to do it for free, but then I couldn’t promise you that Ulfrida would find her way back to the embrace of her loving father. At least, not right away.”

  “Well, yes, I guess there’s no point giving something away for free when you can sell it…” I saw his point.

  “And why save someone in the first place?”

  “So how much will it cost old Harald to save his daughter?” She was an unmarried girl from a royal family, so I was curious to hear how much she was worth.

  Sven scratched the back of his head. “Oh, I don’t know…Torsfel has three ships: the Orca, which he captains, and two smaller drakkars. He has quite a few people, and they’re all veteran warriors. I’d say we’d need at least three jarls on three ships—all drakkars ready for battle—to make sure we could take him out. As far as the money goes, Gunna Olavsson would probably do it for free, and he wouldn’t try anything with the girl. Torsfel drowned his wife and kids.”

  “How did he do that?” My eyes widened.

  “Simple,” Sven replied, laughing without a hint of mirth. “Gunnar sent them to stay with his father-in-law on his knarr—a merchant ship—when the troubles started. The Crooked happened to be sailing by and sank the knarr along with everyone onboard. Gunnar’s had his sights on him ever since, so he’ll join us, even if we just tell him where the Crooked is. The only problem is that he only has one ship, even if his crew is excellent.”

  “So, what are you thinking?” I was happy we were starting to come up with a concrete plan.

  “I think Froky the Hammer and Hrolf Short-legged are on the coast now, and we could get them to join the hunt. They’d want 10,000 gold each. That’s a bargain, believe me, since they have their own accounts to reckon with Torsfel. Obviously, they’d get a share of the loot, too.”

  “Can you have them ready to go the day after tomorrow?”

  Sven smirked. “Of course. It’ll be easy as long as they aren’t at sea. Just one question—will the money definitely be there? Old Snorrison is as stingy as it gets.”

  “He wouldn’t skimp on getting his daughter back, would he?”

  “Who, König Harald?” Sven guffawed. “Of course! He’s a miser’s miser, that one.”

  I had to think that Sven was right, especially bearing in mind the trash I’d gotten for the quests and how unwilling he’d been to give us those portal scrolls. The great König of the North did appear to be a first-rate cheapskate.

  “Don’t worry about the money,” I assured Sven. “If I have to, I’ll pay you myself. We have to do something for that poor girl.”

  I wouldn’t have minded except for the fact that I didn’t actually have that much. On the other hand, I did have some things I could sell for quite a bit of cash if I needed to raise some quickly. For example, the White Prince Crown. It would be a shame to lose it, but… We’ll see. There was also an idea I was playing around with in my head.

  “One problem is that we don’t know when the Crooked will set sail exactly,” noted Sven.

  “Set sail?” I looked at him in surprise. “We aren’t going to just take them out on the island?”

  “Impossible.” Sven waved me off. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! Forswick is practically impregnable, with a narrow channel leading into the bay, an
d Torsfel may be a bastard, but he’s a smart, experienced warrior. He probably has catapults set up around the cliffs already aimed down at the channel, so he’d shred us before we got anywhere near the beach. No, we have to take him at sea. If only we knew what time… He’ll see us if we hang around too long, and that’ll give him the chance to make it to open water without us noticing him.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” I shrugged, walked over to the house, and pounded on the door with my fists.

  Sven saw what I was doing, and I watched terror flit over his face before he dove behind the fence and disappeared.

  “Who’s there?” called Rina.

  “It’s just me, Hagen.”

  The door creaked open a smidgeon, and the old lady’s nose poked out. “What do you want now?” she asked irritably.

  “What time will Torsfel be leaving the day after tomorrow?”

  “Do I have to tell you everything?” She was indignant.

  “Oh, come on,” I snorted. “It’s not like I asked how many men you’ve slept with, just that… A piece of meaningful information, that’s all.”

  The old woman giggled. “Fine. Listen. I won’t tell you exactly when, though I can say that he wants to get to Fomor’s dock by nightfall. Now, it’s your turn; how long will it take him to get there?”

  The nose disappeared behind the door, which slammed shut, and I heard the bolt slide into place. My source of information was gone, apparently forever. Fine.

  Sven’s head popped up from behind the fence. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw me in one piece. “I’d rather spend the whole day fighting than spend five minutes with old Rina,” he said quietly. “Witches all scare me. But what did she say?”

  “Nothing much,” I answered as I walked out of the yard. “Just that the Crooked wants to get to the Ice Wall by nightfall. You tell me how long it’ll take him to get from Forswick to Fomor’s palace.”

  Sven thought to himself, nodding off the time as he ran through his calculations. “I’d say he’ll leave the island around 10 a.m.,” he finally said, just as we got over to where the rest of our little posse was waiting.

  “The morning is great,” I pointed out. “Everyone will be wide awake.”