Tossing the spear aside, she grabbed the edge of the basket and dumped it out onto the floor. The package tumbled out and she snatched it up from between her clothing and shoved it into her tunic.
Before leaving her room, she pulled a silver arm band from a wooden box and pushed it over her wrist.
She had to see her father’s body, and that would mean she would have to get past Iarund. The healer was loyal to her father, but she had a feeling that she would have to purchase his permission to enter his house.
With grim determination, Torunn strode through the house. The fire at the center of the great room was still burning, although the embers were bright and the flames were small. She glanced around at the house where she had spent all of her childhood. She had been brought into the world just a few feet away from where she stood. Her mother had died in the chamber behind her. She grimaced and spat into the fire. No matter what happened, she would never spend another night under this roof.
* * *
The healer’s house stood above the village and Torunn had to keep herself from running headlong up the path. She did not want to draw any attention to herself. It was enough that she was the only one in the streets but she could feel people watching her from their houses as she passed.
She kept her eyes forward, and her shoulders back, and walked with a purpose that dared anyone to challenge her progress. She half-wished that she’d brought the sword she kept under her mattress, but the knife at her hip would have to be enough. Its weight was comforting, as was the pressure of the package she had secreted in her tunic. It pressed against her ribs as she walked and there was comfort in that, too.
Heldi had taken something precious from her father’s chamber—the contents of his altar. What else could it be. The pale-haired woman’s instructions to have them destroyed could never have been followed. The insult that represented to the gods alone was enough to disobey any order, no matter who it had come from.
If her brother believed the rumors, it would not have surprised her if he did everything in his power to obstruct their father’s passage to Valhalla and his rightful place at Odin’s table.
She gritted her teeth as the path became steeper and she focused on the steps ahead of her. Iarund would have to let her pass. She had to see her father. She had to be sure that he was placed in his ship with the precious figures she carried.
But as Torunn ascended the final stairs, she stopped short.
Anger pulsed in her chest as she watched as two men, armed with spears and shields shifted on their feet and shared a waterskin. Her brother had set guards outside the Healer’s house? What was he afraid of?
Her hands clenched into fists as she marched along the path and stood in front of the two men.
“What business do you have here?” one of them asked in a bored tone.
“What business do you have here?” Torunn retorted.
The men shifted and the water skin was dropped to the ground as they took tighter hold on their weapons. “The Jarl set us here to guard the body of his honored father,” one of them replied sharply. “We have been ordered to let no one disturb his rest.”
“He is my father,” Torunn snapped. She laid a hand on the hilt of her knife and glared at the two men. She did not know them, but she had no doubt that she could kill them if she had to. “You will let me pass.”
The men exchanged glances and Torunn took a step forward. Shields were lifted and she gritted her teeth. If they made a move—it would be their last.
“Iarund!” she shouted. If the warriors would not step aside, perhaps the old healer would see reason.
The door opened and one of the acolytes appeared. He seemed surprised by the presence of the warriors, and Torunn wondered if anyone had been consulted before the guard had been given their task.
“Where is your master?” Torunn shouted. The young man’s eyes widened to see her standing there and he disappeared back into the house. The door clattered shut and Torunn felt some of her confidence slip, but her anger remained.
“Which of my brothers sent you here?” she demanded.
“Jarl Hallvard gave the command,” one of the men replied. “He said that no one should pass.”
“Not even his sister? That is my father in there!”
The man shook his head, but he looked nervous. She was the sister of the Jarl, and he knew that even if she challenged them, they could not harm her. But they must also have known that such a thing would not stop her from harming them.
The door opened once more, and this time Iarund, in his dark grey woolen robes stood in the doorway. He did not seem surprised to see the guards, but his expression hardened slightly as his eyes met Torunn’s.
“I must speak with you,” she said.
The healer nodded and pushed one of the guards out of the way as he stepped over the threshold and onto the path.
“We have orders—” the man spluttered.
“Your orders are to guard the door to my house,” Iarund said without looking at him. “I may speak to whomever I choose, and even the Jarl cannot stop me.”
Torunn smiled gratefully as the healer approached. She held out her hands to him and he took them gently. “May I see my father?” she whispered.
The healer shook his head. “I am afraid not. I can only dare the Jarl’s anger in small actions. We have been given instruction that no one is to see the body. The priests have been to do their work, and they will return to take him to the ship that has been prepared for him.”
Torunn shook her head. “But there has been no time,” she said desperately. “Nothing is prepared.”
“Your father’s seat at Odin’s table has already been filled,” Iarund said soothingly. “This is merely a pantomime to appease those still living…”
“You do not truly believe that,” she whispered.
Iarund smiled gently. “I have seen many things, Torunn Arddottir, things that many people would not understand.”
She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes and pulled the linen-wrapped package from her tunic. “Will you put this with his body? Please. I could not see his body burned without knowing that they were with him.”
The old healer paused, and Torunn pulled the arm band from her wrist and held it out to him. “Please.”
Iarund’s eyes crinkled but then nodded and tucked the package and her offering away within his robes. The healer turned away, but Torunn clutched at the edge of his cloak as she had when she was a child. “Promise me that you will see it done.”
He did not turn, but Torunn saw him nod. At least, she thought she did. Iarund did not look back at her, but walked back to his house and past the guards without speaking to them. He disappeared inside the house and the door closed behind him with a loud crash that set Torunn’s teeth on edge.
She narrowed her eyes at the guards, and they shifted their spears menacingly. She should have just killed them and walked through the door of the healer’s house unchallenged. She should have, but she was not prepared for the repercussions of such a rash action.
Her father’s body would be burned at sundown.
She had too little time to prepare, and there was no more room in her life for foolish mistakes. One thing was clear, she could not trust her brothers, especially Hallvard.