Page 77 of Sky in the Deep
My father didn’t think. In the next breath, he was moving, one pounding footstep over the other through the snow,and Inge stepped aside, moving out of his way. I followed, trying to keep up, but he was past the gate before I could catch him. And then he was through the door, moving past Inge. I came into the house and stopped short, my heart jumping into my throat.
My father had his arms wound around Iri like ropes, hunched over and weeping into his shoulder, his body wracked with sobs. The sound of it filled the house and spilled out into the village. And Iri was the same, his face broken into pieces as my father held onto him. I closed the door as soon as Fiske and Mýra came through, leaving the rest of the Riki outside. Runa stood beside the fire, watching them with her hands tucked into her elbows. Inge, too, stood at the wall, staring.
I gulped down the cry forcing its way up from my chest. My father was a proud man and I’d wondered which would have a stronger hold on him—his Aska blood or his love for Iri. Relief flooded through me, unwinding every tense muscle and calming my heart. I already knew that Iri’s betrayal was nothing compared to the truth that he was ours, but seeing my father know it, too, made it more real.
He was saying something into Iri’s ear, but the sound of it muffled against his hair. Iri nodded, wiping at his face and trying to catch his breath. He had outgrown my father only in width, their tall statures matching. Behind me, Mýra watched with the eyes of a warrior, her weapons still clasped in each hand.
“Eelyn.” Inge’s soft voice lifted beside me and she touched my back, smiling. “I’m glad you’re back,” she whispered.
I breathed in the smell I’d come to associate with this place. Toasted grains and drying herbs. “This is my father, Aghi,” I said. “And this is Mýra. My friend.”
Inge nodded to both of them in greeting and Halvard came around me to look up at Mýra inquisitively. My father wiped his face on his sleeve, coming back into himself, and I instantly felt safer. Seeing him lose control was something that scared me. He looked across the small house, taking it in, until his eyes landed on Inge. They looked at each other in silence.
A knock pounded on the door and Inge stepped forward, lifting the latch. Vidr stood on the other side of the threshold with the Tala behind him, her eyes landing on me first. They stepped into the house and we fanned out against the back wall as more Riki I didn’t recognize filed in. My father looked to me and I watched his hand tighten on his axe. Mýra watched them from the top of her gaze in the corner. Their faces, too, were shrouded in suspicion.
Vidr stood at the front, sizing up my father from head to toe. “We’re glad you’ve come.”
My father looked them over carefully, left to right. He stood beside me, his sword still hanging at his side. The glisten of tears still shone on his cheeks, but my father was a dangerous man. Anyone could see that.
Beside me, Halvard was still inspecting Mýra. He reached up to touch her hair and she recoiled, moving closer to the wall to get away from him.
“Welcome to Fela.” The Tala stepped forward, breaking the silence. Her fingers tangled into her necklaces. “We understand the Aska have been raided by the Herja. As you can see, we’ve suffered great losses as well.”
My father didn’t answer.
Vidr watched him with flinty eyes. “These are our other village leaders—Freydis, Latham, Torin, and Hildi.” He motioned to each of the faces in the crowded room.
“There aresevenRiki villages,” my father corrected.
“The other village leaders are dead,” Freydis answered. Her cloak was pulled over one shoulder, an injured arm hanging out.
“What is it you want from us?” My father took command of the conversation the way I’d seen him do many times before. He was always in control.
“We have a common enemy. One that will likely be the end to both our clans.” Vidr took a step forward. “We want the Aska to join with us against the Herja.”
“And after?” My father unveiled his real concern. They would find out soon enough that the Aska were weaker than they were. “What’s to keep the Riki from turning on the Aska after we’ve defeated the Herja?”
The other village leaders looked to Vidr, as if they wanted the answer as much as we did. “A truce. Neither of us will beable to fight after we take on the Herja. And even if we are, we won’t fight each other.”
“And generations of war will end just like that?” I asked, my eyes narrowed on the Tala.
She let the silence widen before she answered. “Perhaps the gods have a new path for us.”
“A new path?” The skepticism in my father’s voice mirrored the look on Mýra’s face. She was stone beside me.
“We don’t always understand the gods’ ways, do we? What we do know is that the Herja have emerged again from whatever hell they come from. I don’t know how the Aska have fared, but they have wiped out more than half our clan in a matter of weeks. Another month and we may all be gone. They’ll go back down the mountain and do the same to the Aska.” She looked to each of us. “Or we could join together.”
My father wasn’t convinced. I could see doubt in every shift of his eyes. He didn’t trust them to keep the truce. Niether did I. Not really.
“The Aska live and die by their word,” he said.
Vidr’s voice rose in defense. “So do the Riki.”
“The Riki who killed my sister are probably out there, right now,” Mýra muttered.
“Two sons,” Freydis snarled. “Two sons I’ve lost in Aurvanger in the last ten years. I don’t want to stand around the same fire as the Aska. I don’t want to trust one at my back in a fight. But I have two more sons.” She raised a hand, pointing to the door. “Out there.”
Inge pulled Halvard to her. “You can abandon your blood feud, Freydis?”
