Iduna (4 page)

Iduna was putting the last touches on the night's dinner when Freya joined her to load the tray that was for Chief Skuld. Freya bumped hips playfully, causing Iduna to add extra thyme. Her grip on the herb had been loose; her hands were shaking slightly as she considered the poor young woman in the tent. Iduna needed to pay attention.

Freya laughed at her serious face and said, “The chief would like to meet his cook. You are to serve with me tonight.”

This was the break Iduna had been waiting for.

So far she'd heard no clue about what the Ull’s intentions were. Her only hope was to get closer to the top. Time was passing, and, if anything, seeing the true enormity of the horde had made her mission more important. She needed to remain calm.

She took a moment, while stirring the lamb stew, to use it as a meditative exercise, letting go of all emotion. Exhaling, she let the emptiness fill her. This didn't seem to work as well as a few days ago. It would have to do for now.

Freya and Iduna carried the trays of food and drinks into the large black tent after the guards waved them along. Inside the tent the air was warmed by a small fire and well ventilated with a smoke flap in the ceiling. The floor was covered in a combination of rugs and a few furs. A long solid table currently held a map and red candles but still had adequate room for their trays.

It was dim in the tent, but Iduna could see a tall man and woman, both garbed in decorative leather armor, standing stiffly by the fire. From what she'd heard around the camp, she knew Chief Dagna and Chief Skuld were the two commanders reporting directly to Leder Vilir. They served him but were strong personalities with opinions and ambitions of their own.

Freya and Iduna put down their trays and arranged the food, plates, and goblets on the table. Freya pulled out one of the chairs, and Iduna walked to the other side to pull out the other chair. The two commanders sat in unison. Turning to her leaders, Freya smoothed her rough tunic, clasped her hands in front of her, and lowered her gaze while she waited patiently. Iduna copied Freya, though she stole glances as often as possible while the two ate.

“This is the cook?” Chief Skuld asked.

“Yes, Chief Skuld,” Freya said.

Skuld grunted with satisfaction. “Dagna, you are in for a treat. Our new cook here has made the food of these lands tolerable.” Skuld leaned forward as he spoke, his hands pressed squarely on the tabletop. His white hair was trimmed tight to his head, a style Iduna hadn’t seen before. It made him look disciplined and strong.

“I would welcome a good meal,” his guest replied.

Dagna's eyes were a striking clear blue. In the last few days Iduna had seen the variety that her blue eyes could come in. They were an extreme rarity in Lawan, and she'd had no idea that blue eyes could be soft, like a warm summer sky, or sharp as steel and everywhere in between.

While they ate, Freya and Iduna attended their chiefs’ requests for more wine or water. Iduna listened closely, eager to catch any hint of their plans. Skuld and Dagna discussed the condition of their two halves of the army, commenting on supplies, latrines, and training. Iduna made a mental note of the size and structure of the military force implied by their comments and any potential weaknesses. Their observations and details showed that these two were no thugs. They managed their camps well. Skuld's next words drew Iduna from her mental accounting.

“The power is finally starting to build again,” he said.

“Yes, well, we've seen it ebb and flow before,” Dagna said.

“Castle Gaelen spread us thin.”

“If there's one thing you can count on, it’s that the strength will be there.”

“Indeed.” Skuld turned back to his food.

They kept eating in silence. Iduna's mind rushed as she realized what value hearing more of these conversations would bring. They were eating too quickly. She needed to hear more.

When they had finished and indicated it was time to clear away the food, she made the leap and asked, “Would you like a mulled wine, Chief Skuld?”

Freya's gaze flew to Iduna in warning. But her Ull parents had enjoyed a mulled wine at night and used to make her a mulled cider. She remembered the smell of the spices and the smiles of her parents as they shared the drink and time together at the end of the day. She was sure she had most of the spices with her.

“I haven't had one in years. Bring two for us,” Skuld said as he sat even taller with pride at being able to offer such comforts to Dagna.

“Yes, I believe I can spare some more time away from my side of camp.” Her head tilted upward slightly as if her status had been elevated by the offering.

Iduna left the tent and practically ran to the campfire kitchen. She poured wine into a pot and added some cinnamon, apple, and orange zest while cooking high over the fire. It was taking too long, so she reached for the materials in the spices and used her power to defuse them into the wine. Pouring the steaming liquid back into the jug, she hurried back to the tent. She passed Freya who was carrying both trays from the tent. Freya didn't make eye contact, but Iduna had bigger concerns.

Iduna kept her eyes down but her stride firm as she reentered the tent. Skuld and Dagna were talking animatedly beside the map. Iduna poured the wine into their goblets and brought the first goblet to Skuld and the second to Dagna, betting that, at this point in the evening, his desire to be the senior officer would be stronger than to be a great host. She stood near them, trying to make out where they were pointing to on the map.

The spices created a delicious aroma that floated in the steam rising from their goblets. They both inhaled deeply before taking a drink.

“Ah, it reminds you of home, doesn't it?” Skuld asked.

“Yes. Do you remember the time we had mulled wine after hunting that mammoth with the limp?” Dagna’s eyes crinkled with mirth.

Skuld laughed. “I’ll never forget that night. You rode that mammoth for a mile while we tried to catch up.”

“I didn’t think the beast would run for it.”

They drank deeply, and Iduna was glad that she had made a full jug's worth.

“You may go.”

Her hopes of hearing more crumbled.

Iduna sat on a rock just slightly downstream of Freya while they washed the pots from yesterday. The stream was cold and brisk with the runoff from snow that had melted with the arrival of spring. The day felt warm though, and, after carrying all the dishes and pots to be washed, the water was refreshing.

She was relieved to see that Freya wasn’t mad about last night, and their friendship continued. They would go to the stream to clean the pots and dishes, chat, and laugh. The days were growing longer, and Iduna admitted she was enjoying herself, though she frequently despaired over her lack of progress. From what she could tell, Skuld and Dagna didn’t know any more about where the Ull were going next than the people at Iduna’s campfire.

She needed to get to Vilir’s tent.

The days settled into a pattern of cooking, serving, and waiting for jewels of information to drop. One thing was clear. The camp was getting ready to move. People were resting while working to improve their weapons and other gear. The scavenging trips waned as the best resources in the area had been tapped out. Lots of trading between comrades commenced as they sought the best weapon for their abilities. Some traded cold-weather gear for dried meats or weapons, guessing that they would be moving to a warmer climate. But others were willing to take the trade, thinking they would be heading home soon.

She still had no idea where the Ull were going. They could advance either east or continue south. To the south, Lawan was a valuable prize with wealth accrued through years of benefiting from its deep and sheltered harbors. Trade had enriched many Lawanians.

Iduna came to enjoy the hard work of cooking for so many and the challenge of preparing food that would keep the interest of Skuld. Dagna was busy but managed to come to Skuld's tent every other day for mulled wine or cider. Gathering the spices necessary for the concoction and for flavoring food was becoming a greater challenge. She'd had to scavenge herself.

Her mind jumped back to the present when another group of people came to the stream with arms full of dishes. A tall, gaunt man with a bony, bald head instructed his two helpers where to set up.

“Don't leave any spots this time, or it will be your head,” he commanded.

They rolled their eyes behind his back and carried their loads to spots farther upstream and out of earshot of the place he'd settled in for a drink and nap.

“Who is he?” Iduna asked Freya in a low whisper.

“Leder Vilir's cook, Koli,” Freya said. “The man can't cook. His helpers do all the work, and he enjoys a life of leisure.”

“How does such a man get to keep his job?”

“The word is that he poisoned or framed everyone above him until he rose to the position,” Freya said and wiggled her toes in the cool water.

“I would never let a person skilled with poison cook for me,” Iduna said, glad that Freya didn’t know the full range of Iduna’s skills with herbs. Even now, she was automatically noting the useful tuft of weeds by a small outcropping of rocks nearby.

“Oh, Vilir doesn't trust him. He feeds portions of his food to his dog before he ever eats. Koli is a bad one. My husband was one of his casualties. Koli put extra salt in all the meals that Unger served to Vilir. Vilir backhanded him and told him he'd not be served by a fool.”

Iduna decided that this Koli fellow was a fair target. She stretched over and yanked free some of the weeds and stuffed them in her pocket.

“Maybe it's time for some revenge.” She baited the hook, hoping Freya was game.

Freya looked up from the pot she was washing with curiosity and a dawning awareness. “I'd love to.”

“Keep him busy.”

Freya laughed and opened some buttons on her shirt. Koli's helpers had turned to catching some fish with their hands, a splashy and boisterous effort that should keep them engaged. Freya strolled over to Koli with a stride designed to entice. Koli watched her with a leer, but with his lazy nature, he wouldn't stay interested long.

Iduna had to hurry. She left and came back farther upstream and behind them. While she walked, she took the weeds out of her pockets with her left hand and began tearing them. Koli’s helpers had left pots drying in the sun. Iduna rubbed the leaves inside the pots, leaving bits of pollen and residue. It would be enough to cause whoever ate the food cooked in those pots an unhappy stomach. As Iduna moved away, Freya gave Koli a withering look and left him alone. The man’s eyes narrowed sharply, then a splash from the river drew his ire, and the moment was gone.

Iduna thought it went well.

Waiting for Koli to fall sick made the questions in Iduna’s mind grow. What was going on here and what threat did this pose to Lawan? She was so close and yet so far away from getting into Vilir’s tent. The image of the dead young woman in the small tent popped into Iduna’s mind. She had to take action.

She snatched up a large jug of wine on her way to served Skuld’s dinner. Freya arched a brow but said nothing of it. Iduna knew tonight’s dinner would be light, little more than a broth stew that included very little fat or potatoes. Whenever Skuld's goblet was low, she stepped forward to refill it. Dagna was in her own tent tonight, and Skuld ate alone.

As he drank, the silence stretched around them. When Freya took away his dinner, Iduna returned with more mulled wine and cheese that she had scored earlier and had been saving.

“Cheese! Thank Yorin,” Skuld exclaimed. “Another treat from home.”

“Yorin be blessed,” she agreed, the word for their god feeling awkward on her lips. Usually she would have just nodded her head, keeping the silence that Freya seemed to maintain while serving, but Iduna wanted to get him talking.

She needed him to talk.

Skuld looked sour and took a large gulp, his earlier drafts of wine only increasing his thirst.

“There's no blessing here,” he said darkly into his drink. Silence. His reddening eyes turned to Iduna. “The darkness is growing again.”

“It's evening, sir,” Iduna replied, puzzled.

“I speak of the darkness in us,” he muttered. “He controls it. Using us all.”

Iduna thought of when she had first arrived, the warmth and easy affection, the laughter and silliness. She had expected a brutal culture, but she had found nothing of the like. Perplexed, she left the tent with Freya.

Iduna woke the next morning to her stomach gurgling with hunger. She’d been trading away much of her food to get spices and treats like the cheese. Thinking of warm oats with honey, she picked her way through the usual jumble of bodies seeking warmth in the pile of furs. She’d raise the fire, then go to the stream for water.

She felt a hand grab her ankle and tug, yanking her out of the pleasant moment in her head. She fell, startled, dropping the bucket she carried. Sprawled, she looked back and caught the glint of a dark look before one of the sleepers rolled over to go back to sleep.

She stood and bent to brush the grass off her knees. Grabbing the bucket, she continued to the stream. She didn’t know why someone would trip her or why she’d been so slow to react. Her training had included agility since it helped to be in sync with the elements. She just hadn’t expected it. Working on her calm, she focused on the water running swiftly and the patterns it made as it flowed around the rocks. When she was about to leave, she impulsively grabbed some of the flowers that Freya had admired. She tucked the stems into her pocket and carried the heavy bucket back to the fire. Iduna smiled as she saw Unger awake and roll his shoulders as if to work out a kink.

“I see you don't need me,” Unger said, eyeing the bucket of water that he usually fetched.

“I wanted to get an early start,” she said.

“Well, if you think I slow you down, then you can make breakfast without me,” and Unger walked away toward a horse corral.

She stopped walking for a second, puzzled. The weight of the bucket reminded her she had work to do, and she resumed her course.

“Morning, Iduna,” Freya said as she continued stacking wood at the campfire.

“Good morning.” Iduna pulled out the flowers after dropping the bucket with a thump. “For you.”

“They’re dead,” Freya said. Her eyebrows lowered, and the line of her mouth flattened.

“They've just been picked. They've not lost their beauty,” Iduna assured her.

Freya shook her head as if clearing thoughts from her mind. “Oh, you're right. How silly.” She took the flowers from Iduna, put some of the water from the bucket into a goblet, and dropped them in. She set the makeshift vase on their worktable.

Iduna watched her and considered.

“Freya, could you tell me about your daughter?” Iduna asked. Freya winced, and Iduna added more encouragement. “What happened to her?”

Freya looked around to see if Unger was nearby, then whispered quietly, “She caught the disease.”

“What disease?”

Freya’s gaze moved over Iduna’s face and searched her eyes—for what, Iduna didn’t know. “We call it the Vanvidd. It has been afflicting our young fighters for the last year. We can’t find a cure.”

Freya had used the word “we.” Iduna realized she had just given away that she was an outsider. Someone from the camp, of the Ull, would have known about Vanvidd. Freya knew Iduna wasn’t from here but had decided she didn’t care.

“How many have died?” Iduna asked.

“Too many. They fall one by one. It’s become less frequent, but we can’t seem to stop it or find a cure. Our daughter Edda was a warm, vibrant young woman. About six months ago she started having angry outbursts and saying wild things. She was dead within days.” Freya’s eyes were like black pits of pain and loss.

Iduna couldn’t fathom what Freya was feeling. It was the oddest sensation. She could see Freya’s pain expressed in every physical gesture, but it felt foreign. Iduna wondered if her focus on calm was keeping her from connecting to what Freya was feeling. Iduna felt confused and at a loss.

“You have my sincere condolences,” Iduna said lamely.

Freya put her hand in Iduna’s, and they stood in silence.

…

“You will be cooking for our Leder Vilir tomorrow,” Skuld said. “Be sure you serve him well.”

“Thank you.” Iduna stepped back in line with Freya. Inside she shook with excitement that she might finally learn something useful for Lawan. Freya and Iduna took the dishes outside and stacked them up for the next day's cleaning.

“You had better watch your back,” Freya whispered to Iduna as they worked. “Others will be jealous.”

“Has our darling cook done something endearing again?” Unger asked.

“She's doing her job, which is more than can be said for you,” Freya said.

Iduna nodded absently as she thought about cooking for Vilir. She would be getting close enough to learn more, but what else would that proximity bring? An image of the pretty teen lying dead in her tent came to mind. Maybe Iduna could learn more about the disease as well as Vilir’s intentions.