Bersi looked away and then back to her. “Solva— His sword…”
Pain stabbed through her and Torunn cried out again. Her memory was blurred. Solva and Varin had been fighting, and she had stepped between them. She nodded briefly; she remembered well enough, he did not need to explain it.
“Varin...”
The last time she had seen the warrior he had pushed her aside to face Solva—
“He is well enough, though he is kept in the Jarl’s custody.”
“And Solva?”
“Dead.”
Iarund’s voice pierced the cold air and Torunn choked on her own breath.
“What? What happened?”
The healer stepped aside and Torunn’s blurred vision cleared enough for her to see that she was not alone in the healer’s house. A short distance away, another form lay upon a bed covered in a long linen cloth.
She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry.
“He tried to kill you,” Bersi said softly. “You turned away just in time. Freya must have been watching over you.”
“A blessing,” Torunn breathed, but her eyes did not move from the motionless form beneath the linen shroud. For it was a shroud. She reached down to touch the knife that she always wore at her hip, but her hand fell upon the empty sheath and a cold knot began to form in her stomach.
“Your knife,” Iarund said, “was recovered from Solva’s chest.”
The healer set the weapon down on the bed beside her and Torunn touched it gingerly before a wave of nausea swept over her.
“Lie back,” Bersi said. “Let Iarund do his work.”
She nodded dimly, but his voice already sounded so far away. The left side of her body felt as though it were on fire. Every movement tightened something that sent a new spark of pain shooting through her mind. She had been wounded in battle before, but this felt different.
“My brothers,” she murmured.
“The Jarl will not see you until I have finished my work,” the healer said sharply. “You know my rules as well as he does.”
A cup of bitter liquid was pressed to her lips, and Torunn tried to turn her face away.
“Drink it,” Bersi said softly. “It will help you sleep.”
“I do not want to sleep.”
“You will not want to be awake, Torunn,” Iarund said. His voice was firm, but Torunn still tried to resist. With calm determination, Bersi held her head and made her drink it all down. She coughed and glared at him, but the man did not seem bothered by her anger.
As she lay back on the pillow, a cold pressure on her side calmed the burning sensation and she sighed with the relief of it. Her fingers curled around the hilt of her knife and she closed her eyes.
“If the goddess is with her, she will wake in the morning…”
The healer’s words should have caused a surge of fear, but Torunn could only frown in response. Of course she would wake. It was not a grievous wound, a glancing blow… She had seen men recover from worse and return to the battlefield within a few weeks. But she also had seen others die painfully from lesser wounds that were not treated properly.
That thought lingered in her mind as the healer’s bitter brew did its work. A heavy mist filtered into her consciousness—dulling the sounds of the healer’s house and the footsteps of the acolytes. The low rumble of Bersi’s voice was indistinct and shadowed, but the knowledge that he was there was comforting. She could feel the healer’s hands on her body, but then that, too, faded away into the grey mist.
* * *
She wandered alone in a thick forest. The grey mist that had blanketed her mind now swirled through the trees. Shapes were indistinct, and every shadow loomed strangely. There were no birds, no familiar sounds of the wildlife that filled the forests that hugged Skaro’s borders.
No wind. No creaking of trees.
Only silence.
She walked slowly and reached out to touch the trunks of the trees as she passed. Their silvery bark was smooth under her fingertips, and she could feel the stickiness of their sap. Spring. Was it springtime already? Surely, not.
A shadow loomed in her peripheral and her head whipped around to track it. Instantly on guard, she moved more quickly through the trees and wished that she had a weapon with her, but she had nothing… her bare feet skimmed over the soft carpet of fallen leaves and rich black dirt. She could smell something strange in the air, but could not be certain of what it was.
She searched for the shadow, but it had retreated into the mist like all the others. Desperate frustration coursed through her body and adrenaline moved her pace quicker through the trees. She had a destination—and it was important that she reach it soon. Her father was waiting for her there…
She paused as that thought rang through her mind and shook her head.
That was impossible. He wasn’t waiting for her in the forest.
He was dead.
“Torunn, you must wake up now.”
The healer’s voice pierced through the mist and Torunn pressed her back against a tree trunk and closed her eyes.
A dream. It was a dream.
“Wake up now,” the voice said again. More insistent this time.
“Torunn— You stubborn girl, wake up!”
Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe and the mist crept up her bare legs as she clung to the tree. Wake up. Wake up!
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and clenched her jaw as the cold mist climbed higher and snaked under the edge of her tunic. She gasped aloud as it caressed her skin and moved over her thighs— Wake up!
Torunn forced herself to push away from the tree. Her legs moved, but she could not feel the ground beneath her feet as she ran through the trees. She had to get away. Outrun the mist. It was coming for her and she did not know what would happen if it caught her.
But the mist was faster… faster than she could ever run. It crept over her shoulders and slowed her pace, it wrapped around her ankles and threatened to make her stumble and fall. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
“Torunn!”
She opened her eyes, blinking hard to chase away the memory of the trees and the closeness of the mist.
She was not in a forest. She was in Iarund’s house.
Bersi’s face was twisted with concern, and the old healer stood behind him with a strange smile upon his face.
“Welcome back,” he said.
“I—”
Bersi held a cup of water to her lips and helped her drink before easing her back onto the bed. The knife her father had given her lay upon the bed beside her and she smiled to see it there. Her father was still with her, even though he was gone.
“You have been asleep for three days,” the healer said simply. “I am pleased to see that you were too stubborn to succumb to your wound.”
Torunn grimaced and tried to move, but her left side was stiff and painful.
“Bersi will take you back to the village today,” he continued.
Torunn glanced at the man who sat at her bedside and back to the healer. “Have my brothers granted my request for a house of my own?”
Iarund smiled briefly. “That is not for me to say.”
“I will protect you,” Bersi said softly.
“I do not need your protection,” she snapped. She moved again and the pain of the movement stole her breath away.