“See? There, did it again,” Argurh said. The horse took a half step.
From the corner of my eye I spotted Kara on the move, the bedroll she’d been given tucked under one arm, walking off into the long grass down toward the stream, wildflowers all about her, butterflies rising—
“And he’s somewhat windy in his bowels.” Argurh, in my face again, wittering on about his nag and closing off my view.
“Well.” With a sigh I turned my attention to the horse—better to get a look before the light failed. “Walk him around over there. Let’s see him move.”
Argurh led him off. It looked as though the gelding might have a thorn just above the hoof or taken some knock that had left it tender. I motioned him back. I could sense the sun lowering behind me and needed to get the horse sorted before it set. Although Aslaug had not returned, and even the knocking had ceased, I always felt a hint of her presence as the sun fell and any animals around me became skittish.
“Hold him.” I kneeled down to check the foot. From under the beast’s belly I spied Hakon brushing himself down. He’d tied back his hair and washed his face. Highly suspicious in my view. When a man out in the wilds bothers to wash his face he’s clearly up to something. I manipulated the joint, muttering the sort of nothings that calm a horse, fingers gentle. A moment later I found the end of the spine just below the skin. A scrape of my nail, a quick pinch and I had the thing out. A vicious thing, over an inch long and slick with blood.
“Let it bleed,” I said, passing the thorn to Argurh. “Easy to miss. The problem’s above the hoof often as not.”
I stood quickly, ignoring his thanks, and moved away from the camp, crouching to shred a poppy through my fingers.
“Aslaug!” The sun hadn’t touched the horizon yet but the sky lay crimson above the Gelleth hills rising to the west. “Aslaug!” I needed her then and there. “It’s an emergency.”
Kara hadn’t just wandered off into the meadow with her bedding. Hakon wasn’t just prettying himself up in case we met some Gelleth border guards, and the Danes weren’t being painfully slow to get ready just out of laziness. If there’s one thing I can’t stand about licentious behaviour, it’s when I’m not involved.
I glanced toward the west. The sun’s torturous descent continued, with it now standing a fraction above the hills.
“What?” Not the word, not even a whisper of it, but faint unmistakable sound of inquiry, deep inside my ear.
“I need to stop Hakon . . .” I hesitated, not wanting to have to spell it out. The devil’s supposed to know your mind, I always thought.
“Lies.” So faint I might have imagined it.
“Yes, yes, you’re the daughter of lies . . . what about them?”
“Lies.” Aslaug’s voice came on the very edge of hearing, the shadows reaching all around me. I wondered what had left her so mute and distant . . . It wasn’t temper that kept her from me—she had been shut out somehow . . . “Lies.” They have a saying in Trond—“lie as the light fails”—those lies were supposed to be the ones most likely to be believed.
“But what lie should I—”
“Look.” The word seemed to take all her strength, fading into nothing at the end. For a moment it seemed the shadows flowed, coming together with a singular direction. A direction that led my eyes to a lone and stunted willow growing beside the stream some two hundred yards from where Kara had been headed. Though I could see no sign of her—the hussy would be lying out of sight . . .
“There’s just trolls sleeping down there though.” Hakon wasn’t stupid and it would take more than stupid to go poking a troll.
No reply but I recalled not so long ago what Aslaug had said, crouching beside me, mouth beside my ear as the sun went through its death throes. “You would be surprised what I can weave from shadow.” I wondered if she were planning to do some weaving tonight. Some trickery perhaps? She could want for no better canvas than the black hide of a troll . . . A sense of urgency stole over me. It seemed as if Aslaug had warmed to the task. It was, after all, a wicked one.
I lurched to my feet. Hakon was already on the move, passing by the outermost of his men, pausing to swap a joke. Heart hammering, I hurried to intercept him whilst doing my best not to look as though I were hurrying. That’s pretty difficult. I don’t think I pulled it off. I caught him just beyond the camp.
“Yes?” Hakon gave me a distant look. He’d never accused me of malice over the affair at the Three Axes, or indeed acknowledged that the incident ever took place, but I could tell he had suspicions. Even now, with Kara waiting for him, he didn’t relax enough to gloat but regarded me with caution—once unbitten, twice shy, I guess.