Blood of the Isir Omnibus by Erik Henry Vick

Author:Erik Henry Vick [Vick, Erik Henry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ratatoskr Publishing
Published: 2019-12-11T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty

The pain faded, in fact, all sensation disappeared, leaving me floating in a pool of cold, apathetic numbness. I opened my eyes, and to my shock, I hung in the air above the heads of my family and friends. My body lay on the floor of the cave, Sif bent over me, listening to my chest, looking worried. Yowrnsaxa knelt next to her, pushing a linen cloth into my side. Blood and pus smeared my face, and my eyes were closed.

The bear roared, but he sounded far away, unimportant. I glanced at him, and instead of a rotting, pestilent corpse, the bear glowed with life: magnificent coat of waxy brown hair; clear, intelligent eyes; healthy skin and claws; full belly.

“Get out! Why did you disturb us?”

I shook my head and blinked hard to clear the vision, the dream from my eyes.

“Just leave! Leave my cave!”

“Can’t do that, now can I? That’s me, down there.” I pointed at my blood-smeared body.

“You! You stuck me! With that…with that red thing!”

“In my defense, you were trying to kill all of us.”

“You invaded my home. That short one sang his dirge that pushed the lantvihtir out of their home and into mine.”

“We’re traveling to the other side of the mountains. When I’m awake, you are dead.”

“I’m not dead!” roared the bear.

I forced my eyes away from Sif and looked at the bear. Yowtgayrr danced around him, but he looked misty, fuzzy. As I watched, the bear lurched at him, swiping the air with his paw, and missing.

“If you stop attacking, Yowtgayrr will stop fighting you.”

“And these?” The bear gestured toward its back where Mothi’s axes protruded from his thick skin. “The one that stuck these here…he’s insane.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Be glad you’re not a Svartalfar. What’s your name?”

“Name? Why do you want my name?” The bear peered at me with open suspicion.

“So we can have a civilized conversation. My name’s Hank.”

“Hank?” the bear said, making it sound like a cough. “What sort of name is that?”

“My grandfather’s name.”

“Oh, a thousand pardons.” I never knew a bear could look sheepish, but he pulled it off. “My name is Kuthbyuhrn.”

“What sort of name is that?” I asked with a smile.

“It isn’t the name of my grandfather,” said the bear gravely. “But it is a name of respect. It means ‘God bear’ in the old tongue.”

“Old tongue? The Gamla Toonkumowl?”

“Is there another?” The bear had stopped fighting Yowtgayrr, and the Alf stood to the side with his weapons held ready, eyes darting between Kuthbyuhrn and my bleeding form. “What’s that female doing to you?”

“Trying to stop me from dying, I’d guess.”

The bear glanced at me and somehow managed to appear concerned and sheepish at the same time. “You stuck me with a magic spear.”

“As I said, you were trying to kill us. See the woman there? The one who is crying? That’s my wife. The boy is my son. I couldn’t let you hurt them.”

“No, of course not! This has been a grave misunderstanding.

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