A Companion to Wolves (36 page)
Read A Companion to Wolves Online
Authors: Elizabeth Bear
“Sound the alarm,” Isolfr said to Thorlot and her son; he himself scrambled down the ladder so fast he nearly broke his own neck and took off running full-out for the wolfheall.
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unting trolls through the woods at night in snow is ⦠unpleasant. Isolfr and Viradechtis, with every other wolfcarl, wolf and wolfless man who could fight, labored through the shadows and the branches, wading through the drifts of snow like cattle at a mud wallow. Isolfr had tried to get his wolf to stay in the wolfheall, but the pups were old enough that she
could
leave them for a few hours, and she had not listened to any of his arguments. He had done what he could: appointed Sokkolfr to watch the pups and followed his sister into the night.
unting trolls through the woods at night in snow is ⦠unpleasant. Isolfr and Viradechtis, with every other wolfcarl, wolf and wolfless man who could fight, labored through the shadows and the branches, wading through the drifts of snow like cattle at a mud wallow. Isolfr had tried to get his wolf to stay in the wolfheall, but the pups were old enough that she
could
leave them for a few hours, and she had not listened to any of his arguments. He had done what he could: appointed Sokkolfr to watch the pups and followed his sister into the night.
He had expected warriors, but these were trellsmiths, trellwitches, half-grown kittens. The warren was emptying, and Isolfr killed them with a lump in his throat so big that it hurt to breathe around. Two miles. They'd tunneled to within less than two miles of Bravoll.
The whole warren could have been on them at any moment, the earth opening under his feet, trolls in the keep, in among the cubs and womenâ
It had been a very near thing.
It was still a near thing, too near for comfort. The trolls fought wildly, and Isolfr knew they were animals at their last point of retreat. But more than that, they fled before him; anywhere he and Viradechtis appeared, they broke, and were cut down as they fled.
They
were
fleeing, panicking, and Isolfr's heart lifted a little with what that must mean about affairs at Othinnsaesc.
He was praying, as he killed troll after troll, Leitholfr on one side and a wolfcarl from Kerlaugstrond on the other, praying for his wolfjarls and his shieldmates, for the konigenwolves who fought at their wolfsprechends' sides, for Grimolfrâeven, to his surprise, for his father. Whatever he had felt for Gunnarr as a childâlove, awe, hero-worshipâwas gone, but he found that he preferred the thought of his father alive and storming in Nithogsfjoll to the thought of his father dead and bloody on his funeral pyre.
were
fleeing, panicking, and Isolfr's heart lifted a little with what that must mean about affairs at Othinnsaesc.
He was praying, as he killed troll after troll, Leitholfr on one side and a wolfcarl from Kerlaugstrond on the other, praying for his wolfjarls and his shieldmates, for the konigenwolves who fought at their wolfsprechends' sides, for Grimolfrâeven, to his surprise, for his father. Whatever he had felt for Gunnarr as a childâlove, awe, hero-worshipâwas gone, but he found that he preferred the thought of his father alive and storming in Nithogsfjoll to the thought of his father dead and bloody on his funeral pyre.
It will do,
he said to himself, and killed a trellsow, one of the ones he'd learned to recognize as a smith. And thought of Thorlot, who might be a better blacksmith than her father or brother or dead husband, or than her son would be, but who would never be anything more than wife, sister, daughter, mother.
At least
she
was honored,
he thought, wrenching his axe free of the trellsmith's ribs. He didn't mean Thorlot, and he did not know whether he was angry at his own kind for their blindness or angry at the trolls for making him see how blind they were.
he said to himself, and killed a trellsow, one of the ones he'd learned to recognize as a smith. And thought of Thorlot, who might be a better blacksmith than her father or brother or dead husband, or than her son would be, but who would never be anything more than wife, sister, daughter, mother.
At least
she
was honored,
he thought, wrenching his axe free of the trellsmith's ribs. He didn't mean Thorlot, and he did not know whether he was angry at his own kind for their blindness or angry at the trolls for making him see how blind they were.
The trolls and the svartalfarâTin who barely recognized the word
woman
âand he killed the next three trolls in a black and causeless fury.
woman
âand he killed the next three trolls in a black and causeless fury.
And then the line of men stopped moving forward, and Isolfr looked around; their vicinity, for the moment, was clear of trolls. His sister stood near; she tilted her head to look at him and said wistfully,
Cubs?
Cubs?
“I told you so,” Isolfr said, but they were both exhausted, and the trolls were not fighting well. The absence of one konigenwolf and one wolfsprechend would not tip the balance.
He said to Leitholfr, “Viradechtis wants her children.”
Leitholfr smiled and said, “You did tell her so. Go on with you, then.”
Isolfr nodded, said, “Come, sister.” They started back toward Bravoll, through the snow and the bitter cold. They were tired, Viradechtis' jowls rimed with blood and Isolfr's mittens stiff with it, but in this cold it was death to sit or even to stop and rest for a moment, leaning against a tree.
They had gone maybe three-quarters of a mile when they heard the noise. It was a tiny sound, piteous, and they both thought,
Cub?
, Isolfr wondering for a crazed, panicked moment if somehow Signy had gotten out here, all by herself in the cold and dark.
Cub?
, Isolfr wondering for a crazed, panicked moment if somehow Signy had gotten out here, all by herself in the cold and dark.
The next moment he knew that was nonsense, but by then he could see the source of the noise.
A trellwitch, crouched in the snow, a muddle of rank furs and dull bronze, clutching to her breast a troll kitten. The kitten was crying, and when the trellwitch looked up, Isolfr was astonished to see tears in her mad red eyes.
Viradechtis growled and gathered herself, and Isolfr reached to unsling his axe.
The trellwitch said
please
.
please
.
Isolfr flinched back; his hand closed on Viradechtis' ruff before he thought. The trellwitch did not speak as men spoke, nor in the images of the pack-sense. She did not have a voice, as he understood such things, the word seeming to be formed out of darkness and stone and smelting fires and things that did not ordinarily make words. And it was not exactly a word; it was merely the closest she could come.
please
said the trellwitch again.
said the trellwitch again.
He should have killed her. Taken her head off, disemboweled herâor simply let go of Viradechtis. Should have killed her and smashed the kitten's skull with the heel of his boot. But he was tired of death, tired of blood and slaughter and pain, and the trellwitch was rocking the kitten gently, soothing it with her crooked, knotted claws even as she stared at him. She was afraid, and if trolls could grieve, she was grieving, and yet she stayed where she was and tried to communicate with him.
“I cannot let you live,” he said to the trellwitch. “Your people will slaughter mine.”
slaughter
the trellwitch said, amid flashes of fire and screaming, of Othinnsaesc. He saw for a moment what men looked like through troll-eyes. And shuddered away from the seeing.
the trellwitch said, amid flashes of fire and screaming, of Othinnsaesc. He saw for a moment what men looked like through troll-eyes. And shuddered away from the seeing.
Othinn, god of wolves, god of men, expected he would show no mercy. Othinn was a god for the strong, who granted no more than a man or a pack could take, and defend.
“I cannot,” Isolfr said. “I am sorry.”
And he
was
sorry, although he could never have explained it to anyone. Sorry because she found him as loathsome and terrifying as he found herâViradechtis a great
thing
with flaming eyes, himself a spidery wrong-angled creature pale as a rotten corpseâsorry because the trolls were caught between the men and the svartalfar, and although it was no doing of his, it was no doing of hers either. Sorry because she loved that kitten as Viradechtis loved her cubs. Sorry because he could feel her fear and her desperation and the howling loneliness that gnawed her. Her queen was dead, her sisters were dead, the world was empty to herâand he knew that this was the first time in her life she had ever had to think of herself as a single creature.
was
sorry, although he could never have explained it to anyone. Sorry because she found him as loathsome and terrifying as he found herâViradechtis a great
thing
with flaming eyes, himself a spidery wrong-angled creature pale as a rotten corpseâsorry because the trolls were caught between the men and the svartalfar, and although it was no doing of his, it was no doing of hers either. Sorry because she loved that kitten as Viradechtis loved her cubs. Sorry because he could feel her fear and her desperation and the howling loneliness that gnawed her. Her queen was dead, her sisters were dead, the world was empty to herâand he knew that this was the first time in her life she had ever had to think of herself as a single creature.
kitten
she said, as Viradechtis pushed toward her, and Isolfr held onto the wolf's ruff when it would have slipped through the clenched fingers of his mittened hand.
she said, as Viradechtis pushed toward her, and Isolfr held onto the wolf's ruff when it would have slipped through the clenched fingers of his mittened hand.
Trellqueen,
Isolfr answered, the Iskrynequeen vividly in his memory. Beside him, Viradechtis, growling, leaned forward against his grip. She was not trying to make him let go of her, not yet, but he could feel her patience wearing thin.
Isolfr answered, the Iskrynequeen vividly in his memory. Beside him, Viradechtis, growling, leaned forward against his grip. She was not trying to make him let go of her, not yet, but he could feel her patience wearing thin.
kitten
the trellwitch said desperately, and he understood. This was the only kitten, the only daughter of the Othinnsaesc queen, the only remaining daughter of the blood of the Iskryne. And he understood, in all the things that clustered around the trellwitch's approximation of language, that this meant even more to trolls than it did to men or svartalfar, that if this kitten died, a whole wealth of craft and lore died with her, the race-memory and daughtermind and history and shapings of trolls who had delved so far under mountains as to touch the giant Mimir's hair, and wrought black cities underground.
the trellwitch said desperately, and he understood. This was the only kitten, the only daughter of the Othinnsaesc queen, the only remaining daughter of the blood of the Iskryne. And he understood, in all the things that clustered around the trellwitch's approximation of language, that this meant even more to trolls than it did to men or svartalfar, that if this kitten died, a whole wealth of craft and lore died with her, the race-memory and daughtermind and history and shapings of trolls who had delved so far under mountains as to touch the giant Mimir's hair, and wrought black cities underground.
Trellqueen,
Isolfr said, and thought of the destruction of Franangford, Hrolleif and Tindr and Signy and everyone he knew who had been killed by trolls, Tin's siblings, Kari's grief.
Isolfr said, and thought of the destruction of Franangford, Hrolleif and Tindr and Signy and everyone he knew who had been killed by trolls, Tin's siblings, Kari's grief.
The trellwitch flinched a little, and he caught a scrap of confusion in her thoughts. Trolls knew that men did not have queens as they did, did not share the daughtermind. It baffled her, that men could care so about creatures who could not share their self.
He had never thought that trolls could grieve; the trolls had never thought that men could grieve.
“I owe my peopleâ” he said, and there had to be something wrong with him, he was apologizing to a
troll
. “I cannot let a trellwarren grow again here.”
troll
. “I cannot let a trellwarren grow again here.”
away
the trellwitch said. And then again
away
. She drew herself in, trying to shield the kitten with her body.
the trellwitch said. And then again
away
. She drew herself in, trying to shield the kitten with her body.
Viradechtis moaned.
“You have nowhere to go,” he said. “And I know that you would lie to save that kitten's life.”
away
the trellwitch insisted, and he caught clouds of meaning, shreds of clarity. The Iskryne trolls knew of other troll warrens, other lines.
sisterkin
the trellwitch said, and although he could not make sense of the concept, he understood what she was telling him. She would take the kitten to one of these other warrens where the Iskryne line and lore could be preserved.
the trellwitch insisted, and he caught clouds of meaning, shreds of clarity. The Iskryne trolls knew of other troll warrens, other lines.
sisterkin
the trellwitch said, and although he could not make sense of the concept, he understood what she was telling him. She would take the kitten to one of these other warrens where the Iskryne line and lore could be preserved.
“You would not return to the Iskryne later?”
dead
said the trellwitch, meaning that the Iskrynequeen was dead, meaning that the Iskryne was a place of death, meaning that the Iskryne was dead to trolls. Although he knew she would lie to him if she could, he also knew that she was not lying. She did not want to return to the Iskryne or to the caves beneath Othinnsaesc. She wanted to find her own kind again, wanted
sisterkin
,
daughtermind
, and she wanted the kitten to live.
said the trellwitch, meaning that the Iskrynequeen was dead, meaning that the Iskryne was a place of death, meaning that the Iskryne was dead to trolls. Although he knew she would lie to him if she could, he also knew that she was not lying. She did not want to return to the Iskryne or to the caves beneath Othinnsaesc. She wanted to find her own kind again, wanted
sisterkin
,
daughtermind
, and she wanted the kitten to live.
And, though Othinn might curse him for itâgod of wolves, god of warâand though Viradechtis whined beside him, leaning against his will, already tasting the trellwitch's
blood in her teeth, he could not bring himself to blame the trellwitch.
blood in her teeth, he could not bring himself to blame the trellwitch.
It was not the god of wolves who had saved him, him and the wolf beside him, his daughter and Viradechtis' cubs. Not the god of war.
It was the patroness of smiths, the goddess of witches, and of whores.
“Teach her that we can also love,” Isolfr said, and dropped his axe to hold Viradechtis hard, with both cold hands, while the trellwitch fled into the snow.
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F
ranangford and Othinnsaesc had to be rebuilt from the tumbled stones, and it would take more than the summerâespecially as heallan and keeps alike desperately needed the spring for planting to recover from two bad years. Food was more needful than shelter, and the Franangford wolfheall would be little more than a stockade and a circle of tents when Isolfr and his wolfjarls took up residence, along with the new Franangfordthreat. Sokkolfr would be housecarl, as he and Isolfr had planned; he and Frithulf and Kari remained Isolfr's shieldmates, his friends, his
pack
, as they had been.
ranangford and Othinnsaesc had to be rebuilt from the tumbled stones, and it would take more than the summerâespecially as heallan and keeps alike desperately needed the spring for planting to recover from two bad years. Food was more needful than shelter, and the Franangford wolfheall would be little more than a stockade and a circle of tents when Isolfr and his wolfjarls took up residence, along with the new Franangfordthreat. Sokkolfr would be housecarl, as he and Isolfr had planned; he and Frithulf and Kari remained Isolfr's shieldmates, his friends, his
pack
, as they had been.
While they stayed at Bravoll still, some nights Viradechtis wished to sleep with her consorts, but some nights she wished to sleep with her brother and her mentor and the black wildling, and where she chose to go, Isolfr chose to follow.
And Skjaldwulf and Vethulf did not complain. They seemed delighted when he came to their bedâand they continued to share, for Kjaran and Mar insisted on itâbut accepting when he did not. They had reached some sort of peace with each other at Othinnsaesc; Isolfr did not ask for
details, knowing it would be unkind. Though they still butted heads, and brawledâlike fishwives, Isolfr told themâthrough the wolfheall, no one could doubt that affection underlay the insults, especially when Kjaran could not be troubled to turn from washing Mar's face to see what the matter was.
details, knowing it would be unkind. Though they still butted heads, and brawledâlike fishwives, Isolfr told themâthrough the wolfheall, no one could doubt that affection underlay the insults, especially when Kjaran could not be troubled to turn from washing Mar's face to see what the matter was.
Isolfr had spoken to them, when they returned from Othinnsaesc full of Skjaldwulf's tales of the trellqueen, terrible-taloned, maw-handed mother of monstersâ“it took two men to bring her down, though Frithulf tells me the one you slew in the Iskryne was larger.”
“Um,” Isolfr said.
“Two men,” Skjaldwulf said, grinning, “and when the monster fell and they turned to clasp hands over her corpse, there in the strange-chambered warrens and caverns of what once was Othinnsaesc, I vow to you, Isolfr, they were the two most surprised men in the North of the world. For there was Gunnarr Sturluson on one side, black to the brow with the blood of trolls, and there on the otherâ”
“No,” Isolfr said, guessing.
“Yes! And there on the other, Othwulf Vikingrsbrother with the trellqueen's ichor still wet on his axe.”
“What did they do?”
“What could they do? They clasped hands over her corpse. And then Gunnarr spent three hours in the bath house, washing like a cat that's fallen in the honey pot.”
Isolfr managed to retain his dignity until Skjaldwulf's own lips began to twitch with repressed laughter. And then they were holding each other up as they choked on mirth, Skjaldwulf's arm tight across Isolfr's shoulders, Isolfr's eyes streaming, while Vethulf looked on in feigned disapproval.
But it hadn't been the trellqueen, or even his father, that Isolfr had wished to speak of. He thought he'd had enough of trolls for one life, and he thought he'd hear the story a thousand times anyway, if the gods granted him the years in which to hear it.
It is the manner of wolves to say what they mean and say
it plainly, and he said to them plainly that he wished them to treat him as a werthreatbrother, no more and no less. “I am not fragile, and I am not a child.” He glared at Vethulf. “Call me âlad' again, and I'll have your stones.”
it plainly, and he said to them plainly that he wished them to treat him as a werthreatbrother, no more and no less. “I am not fragile, and I am not a child.” He glared at Vethulf. “Call me âlad' again, and I'll have your stones.”
Vethulf tilted his head and tucked his chin like a wolf protecting his throat. Skjaldwulf intervened before the red-haired wolfjarl could step forward, though, and said in his quiet voice, “We do not think you fragile, Isolfr. We would have to be blind as well as fools to think so. I did not want ⦔ He spread his hands helplessly, and his love was all through the pack-sense, honey stirred into tisane.
Isolfr understood; it softened his heart but not his resolve. “Then think of me as a wolf. You would never seek to ⦠to
coddle
Mar as you have sought to coddle me.”
coddle
Mar as you have sought to coddle me.”
Skjaldwulf's turn to look taken aback, but Vethulf burst out laughing and tossed his braids over his shoulders. “Can I still call you a daft creature?” he asked, and Isolfr was almost offended, and then realized that he was being teased, that that was Vethulf's way of signifying agreement.
He grinned at his wolfjarls and said, “That will suit me very well.”
And things were better. To his surprise, neither Vethulf nor Skjaldwulf pressured him to lie down for them, though they made no secret of desiring him. They could not have kept their desire out of the pack-sense if they had wanted to, but they did not court him. He was afraid, at first, that Vethulf would corner him as Eyjolfr had, but he did not, and Isolfr came to understand as winter turned to spring, that he
would
not, that Vethulf, for all his sharp tongue and arrogant self-confidence, did not see other men as less than himself, and there was a generosity in him that finally showed Isolfr why Viradechtis had made him wolfjarl.
would
not, that Vethulf, for all his sharp tongue and arrogant self-confidence, did not see other men as less than himself, and there was a generosity in him that finally showed Isolfr why Viradechtis had made him wolfjarl.
Eyjolfr himself chose to join the Franangfordthreat. Isolfr had been startled enough when Randulfr said that he and Ingrun wished to stayâbut he was pleased, also, and it made sense, for Ingrun was easily second bitch at Franangford, and Amma had none of Kolgrimna's stubbornness.
But when Glaedir came up beside Ingrun, he could not help looking to Skjaldwulfâwho gave him a nonplussed shrug and said, “Eyjolfr? Do you follow your wolf?”
But when Glaedir came up beside Ingrun, he could not help looking to Skjaldwulfâwho gave him a nonplussed shrug and said, “Eyjolfr? Do you follow your wolf?”
“I do,” said Eyjolfr, and added a bit stiffly, “I bring no quarrel to Franangford, with wolfjarls nor with wolfsprechend.”
The pack-sense said he meant it. “Then you are welcome,” said Isolfr.
That was indeed a day of wonders, the day before the Nithogsfjollthreat began their long trip home, for Vigdis, to no one's surprise more than Grimolfr's, chose Ulfbjorn as her new brother. It was a good choice, despite his youth; the big man was steady of heart and even-tempered, and even Ulfrikr Broken-Nose had the sense not to call
him
womanish.
him
womanish.
And it was wonderful as well for the look on Grimolfr's face, when he had to tilt his head backâfar backâto glower up at his wolfsprechend.
When the snow still lingeredâgray at the edges of meadows and deep under the treesâthe svartalfar marched home. Tin took her leave of Isolfr privately, and left him with a gift he hadn't expectedâa war-axe shaped by her own hands. Not her Master-piece, of course, but an axe made by a Mastersmith nonetheless.
“If you hang it on the wall over your mantel,” she said, troll fingerbones rattling from the rings lining her long pointed ears, “I will know, and I will come and take it back.”
“Are you wishing me war, Mastersmith?” He smiled to soften it, and laughed when she showed him her teeth.
“With no trolls in the North,” she said, “it would have to be war with the svartalfar.”
He sighed, and sank down in a crouch, the axe laid across his knees. It was a beautiful thing, art and destruction wrought in one bright killing curve, the broad steel blade inlaid with bronze and silver coils. “My people will fear it. Fear your people, I mean.”
“Use that to keep the wolfheallan strong,” she said, and reached with bony fingers to pat his hand. “Even the smiths and mothers will speak to queen-wolves. Get your lover to put it in a song, so people remember. If they fear us, there will be no war.”
“He's not my lover,” Isolfr said.
She raised an eyebrow, a long feathery, shaggy sweep. “You're his beloved. Both of them. I saw enough on the war-trail to know.” Then she laughed, and took her hand off his and pushed his chest like a wolf-cub nudging playfully. “We don't get to pick who loves us, you know. And better to get him to write the song than be remembered forever as âfair Isolfr, the cold.'”
He scrubbed a hand across his face, roughness of beard and scars and the smooth skin of the unmarked cheek. “Is that really what they call me?”
She smiled. “You frighten them, Viradechtisbrother. You went down under the mountain and came out again, twice, and the alfar call you friend. They'll have you among the heroes before you know it. And you can seem quite untouchableââice-eyes, and ice-heart, and ice-hard, his will.'”
“Othinn help me. It
is
a song already.”
is
a song already.”
“Isolfr Ice-Mad,” she said, and when he winced, she shrugged.
He snorted and looked down, pretending he was testing the edge of the axe on his thumb. “There are worse names.”
“Don't tempt your gods,” she admonished.
“It's a goddess I ought to thank.” Viradechtis looked up from her place by the fire, and gave him a dark, opaque stare. He knew what she was thinkingâthe trellwitch, and the kitten. He hadn't told anyone about them, and he wasn't about to tell Tin.
Viradechtis would forgive him eventually. She would have to; he was hers, and she was hisâunto death and the hall of heroes, if Othinn would still have themâand they'd each forgiven worse.
“Goddess?”
“My dream of trolls and you and fire,” he said. “A gift from Freya.”
Tin laughed. “Ah, yes. You know svartalfar made her necklace for her? So our songs say.”
“So do ours,” he said. And they said she sold her body to earn it, too, but then, what choice did women have? Even goddesses. Even queens.
“Tinâ”
“Yes?”
“What you said about war, and the wolves, and teaching men to fear the svartalfar.”
“Yes.” She settled back, and folded her hands.
“I am the father of a daughter,” he said formally, recalling Hjordis' words:
if you wish me to send her to be heallbred
â
if you wish me to send her to be heallbred
â
“I have heard.” Her eyes caught the light, quartz-bright. He thought she knew already what he was about to ask.
“When she is of age, may I send her to you, to be apprenticed as a smith? It seems to me ⦔ He hesitated, coughed to clear his throat, began again. “It seems to me that we will need people, men and svartalfar, who can speak between the races. And if my child is a smith, and later a motherâ”
“Ah.” Tin rocked on the balls of her feet, medallions and talismans clanking on her gorgeously embroidered clothes. “Ah, yes, and the daughter of Isolfr Ice-Mad, Isolfr Viradechtisbrother, yesâ”
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes,” she promised. He almost thought the brightness in her eyes was about to spill down her creased cheeks, but instead she clasped his hand again. “Yes. Send her to me. I will make it right with the smiths.”
“And the mothers?”
She laughed and showed him the inlays on her teeth. “The
mothers
will understand.”
mothers
will understand.”
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