With Shield and Ink and Bone by Bond Casey

Author:Bond , Casey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YA Historical Fantasy
Published: 2020-11-11T00:00:00+00:00

twenty

We rode hard, up and down the steep, hoof-worn paths, some of which were barely passable, until one particular pathway widened and curved upward, choosing one of the mountains from the midst of so many. The road was well maintained, with no ruts, holes, or bumps.

Tyr and Brux led us up the mountainside along winding trails that switched back and forth up the slope, toward the stronghold. The walls of the fortification were built of hewn rock provided by the mountain itself, and the men keeping watch atop the walls saw us and were ready when the earth gradually flattened at the base of the fortress. We approached a pair of enormous wooden doors boasting carved, intertwined dragons, their scales intricately and painstakingly crafted. Even the fire they breathed seemed to lick from the wood.

“What business have you with Clan Grandys?” one man shouted from the top of the wall.

Armund answered him; as the eldest among us, it was his duty. “We come to you from Skögar Village, from Clan Bjern, with news for your chieftain.” He brought his horse around to ride next to me as the men from Grandys prepared to open the door for us. “They will know what you are and ask things of you, Liv.”

“I know.” Jarls always sought favor with völvas.

He inclined his head, pursing his lips. “Their Jarl is known for his skill in battle. If you can secure his favor, his warriors would be a great addition to your army.”

The wooden doors creaked and groaned as they parted. Tyr and Brux led the way into a courtyard, the hooves of our horses crunching the fine, dark rock underfoot. Several young boys and girls waited eagerly to take our horses to the stables. I gave Mordi a parting stroke and told him I’d see him soon.

The young boy holding Mordi’s reins went still as he took in my staff. An older man with a dark gray, grizzled beard pushed him away and told him to run along. He waited, guardedly watching me. “The Jarl will want to know a völva is in our midst.” He waved me forward. “Come with me.”

“Where she goes, I go,” Calder insisted, stepping forward to stand with me, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine.

“We all go,” Armund amended, scratching Sig behind the ear as they stood on my other side.

The man huffed a laugh and scrutinized our party, his eyes catching on Brux above my head. “Very well. All of you can follow me.”

He led us through a herd of goats contentedly chomping on hay, their rectangular pupils watching disinterestedly as we passed through the courtyard. After another set of carved wooden doors opened for us, we were ushered inside and led down a long, straight hallway. In the middle of the corridor, we turned left into a great room. Mounted animal skulls adorned the walls, their horns sharp and pointed. The chieftain of Clan Grandys sat in a massive wooden chair, draped with deer and bear skin.

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