Page 25 of Sky in the Deep
“Yes, Thora is pleased and we must now honor the warriors who have brought this great favor to our people. Come.”
The children got to their feet, funneling down the aisles and finding their families.
As the floor cleared, the Riki warriors across the ritual house came forward, their families looking up at them, and my eyes found Iri, who stood beside Fiske on the far side of the room. They filled the aisle as the Riki watched them, many with tears in their eyes.Dýrscarried the baskets of cedar garlands from the back of the room and set them down at the feet of the Tala. She crouched down, picking one up and holding it out before her in her open hands.
“We honor you, Riki, as you have honored Thora.Lag mund.” Fate’s hand.
The man before her bent low so she could lift the garland over his head and set it onto his shoulders. As he stood, she dipped her finger into the bowl of owl’s blood and lifted it to touch the place between his collarbones. He bowed before her, peeled off the line, and returned to his seat, hands touching him as he went. Below his throat, the deep red stroke of blood glistened on his skin.
She repeated the words, looking at the woman next in line and setting the garland onto her shoulders. After the Tala had blessed her with the blood of the sacrifice, Fiske came to the front. She touched his face, speaking to him softly. “We honor you, Riki, as you have honored Thora.Lag mund.” He looked down at her, coming low so she could set the garland on him, and she painted him where the collar of his tunic opened. Instead of going back to his seat, he stepped aside, letting Iri come forward.
The Tala’s smile pulled wider, looking up into Iri’s fair face. “We honor you, Riki, as you have honored Thora.Lag mund.” The sound of it shot around inside of me like a flying blade, cutting deep.
Because Iri wasn’t Riki. He was Aska.
He wasn’t hers. He was mine.
I held my breath, wringing my hands together in front of me until the skin burned.
I remembered the way my father looked at Iri and me when we held the funeral rites for our mother’s soul. Iremembered the way his eyes said that we were everything. We were everything until Iri was gone. And then the sun of my father’s world grew dimmer again, still rising and setting on me. I’d become both his son and his daughter, carrying his name and honor. It was a heavy mantle, but I was the only one to bear it. And I knew that though he’d never say it, some part of him held me responsible for Iri’s death. Because I was.
I was his fighting mate and that made him my responsibility. It was my job to keep him alive. I should have given my life before his could be taken. The guilt haunted the shadows of my every dream. He was there, in every nightmare. I’d gone into the fighting season, ready to avenge my brother. But Sigr was waiting for me in Aurvanger, ready to pour out his wrath upon me. And now I was being punished for my weakness.
I had failed. I knew that the moment Iri went over the edge.
The Tala brushed a strand of hair from his face before he turned back down the aisle. I watched him, the pride spread over his face like sunlight. I brushed a tear from my cheek, and a feeling like a finger dragging over my skin made me blink. I looked up to where the Tala stood, and for a moment, I thought her eyes were on me.
FIFTEEN
The ceremony broke and theRiki poured into the hall at the back of the ritual house like fish spilling from a net. Inge came to get me, positioning me beside a barrel of ale, and leaving me to serve. I kept my eyes down, trying to stay invisible as they lined up in front of me. Whatever pride I’d had within me felt unreachable. I took their cups, filling them and handing them back in a repetitive motion and ignoring the curses on their lips.
Voices filled the room as the Riki sat at long tables before spreads of roasted venison and stew, eating together. Iri sat with Inge, Fiske, and Halvard along the far wall. Runa sat at the other end of the same table with a man and woman who looked to be her parents and three younger children.
“Hello.” The Tala stood before me with her cup in her hand, her gaze set heavily upon me. “You’re the Aska theybrought back from Aurvanger, aren’t you?” Her head tilted to the side curiously.
The others stood nearby, listening, and I watched them draw closer, their hands going to their weapons. I stiffened.
“You’re very beautiful, even with all of that.” She waved a hand at the healing bruises on my face, a smile curling on her lips. “What’s your name?”
I shifted from one foot to the other as I took the cup from her hand, not answering. Her eyes studied me as I filled it. When I handed the cup back to her, she stood, unmoving, still watching me.
“Tala.” A large round woman came to her side, whispering in her ear, and the Tala nodded, her concentration on me broken and pulled in another direction. She glanced at me one last time before she stepped away. The Riki standing nearby were still staring.
“Aska.” Halvard broke through the bodies before me and handed me a cup, smiling wide. “Did you see Fiske and Iri?”
My attention was still on the Riki watching me.
“When I’m old enough to fight, I’ll be honored too.” He folded his arms up on top of the counter.
I had said those very words to my father. When Iri and I were children, we sat at the entrance to our village and watched the Aska go off to fight. We couldn’t wait to join them. We were eleven and twelve when we finally got our wish. In only five years, Halvard would get his.
He took the cup from me and ran off, sloshing the ale as he went. When he reached his table, he climbed up onto thebench beside Fiske and whispered in his ear. Fiske’s eyes shifted to meet mine across the room as Halvard handed him the ale. He took a long drink, looking at me over the rim of the cup.
Anotherdýrtook my place when Inge asked me to clear the tables and I took an empty basket, filling it with dirty bowls and spoons. I moved carefully through the room, making sure I didn’t touch or look at anyone. When I came to clear Iri’s table, Fiske was sitting alone with his empty cup, leaning against the wall.
I gathered up the mess, dumping the meat bones into one side of the basket and stacking dishes into the other. Iri stood down the wall beside Runa and I stopped as soon as I saw him, freezing with a bowl clutched in my hands. He stood so close to her that her skirt brushed against him. My widened eyes traveled down and I swallowed down the burn of bile. His hand was dropped by his side, his fingers winding into hers.
I looked down to the table, the sight stinging inside my head like the hotdýrcollar against my skin. When I looked up again, Runa was laughing and I dropped the bowl into the basket, letting it clatter against the others.
