Страница 101 из 130
A woman stood, young enough that some of the awkwardness of girlhood still clung about her. Rudi would have judged her to be two years short of Edain?s twenty. Loose hair of a dark yellow color like old honey fell past her shoulders, confined by a headband, which probably meant by the custom of these folk that she was unwedded; at least, most of the women older than she wore theirs braided and bound. Her hands knotted in front of her until she forced them still, licked her lips and stood proudly erect, ignoring the eyes upon her and the murmur of surprise. When she spoke her voice was firm and clear, though light: ?Sigurd Jeansson, called the Bold, my betrothed, has been gone since the fall harvest. He went north in viking with the men of Westmanland-thorpe to seek tools and trade goods in the dead cities, so that we might take up land and make our own homestead this spring at snowmelt, and be wed. When will he return to me??
The gydhja chanted: ?Cease not, seeress, till said thou hast,
Answer the asker till all she knows.?
Heidhveig sighed and bent her head beneath the veil.?I call the raven to my aid and take her form. Together we wing northward over mountain and forest and lake. I see a mighty river, and on its banks bare-branched trees beneath a sky like steel; ice floats in the water. A great bridge of the old world spans the broad flood, half fallen, and the current foams beneath it. Tall fire-scorched ruins rise on an island to the west. Was it to the Royal Mountain that he was to have gone?? ?Yes.? ?I can see boats on the river, a long canoe heavy with cargo, the Hammer painted on it and eight paddlers within. One is tall and ruddy, with black hair and a war sark of dark leather sewn with steel rings; he has a scar that turns a streak in his beard white. Is this your man??
The girl nodded, and the seidhkona continued: ?The other boats pursue it. They are many and fierce, some with their faces painted, some with strings of fingerbones about their necks. A man in a red robe with a rayed sun upon his breast leads them.?
Rudi?s breath hissed between his teeth. I know your mark, ill-wreaker! he thought savagely.
The voice of the seeress went on: ?They are shooting arrows-?
The girl gasped and stretched out a hand to the table to support herself. Her fair skin went chalk white, and her eyes very wide. ?Men fall in the canoe that flees; it slows, it ca
The old woman fell silent again, then went on with a curious gentleness: ?If this is the boat your man was in, I fear he will not return to you. I am sorry. There is no more.?
The girl shook. Her voice choked as she spoke: ?All men are born fey. My Sigurd met his fate unflinching and feasts this Yule with the einherjar in Vallhol-?
The words stumbled into a moan, and her face twisted as she struggled and then gave way to thick tears, and her knees buckled. Two older women caught her, and helped her from the room amid a murmur of sympathy.
The gydhja spoke, her words formal but with concern in her tone: ?How fares the seeress?? ?Well enough to continue. I sense there is need in this room, questions that must be asked and answered. Go on!? ?Is there another who has a question??
A man rose; he was in his thirties, weather-beaten and thick-bodied.?I?ve cleared old scrubland for a new field on my steading, land not planted since the Change; I?ve grubbed up and burned the brush and spread the ashes and plowed them under. It lies fallow beneath the snow. Should I seed it with barley when spring comes??
Rudi suppressed a wry smile. It seemed a little odd, after the last…
But it isn?t. That man has put his own sweat into the work, and his family?s well-being depends upon the results.
Thorlinda chanted: ?Cease not, seeress, till said thou hast,
Answer the asker till all he knows.?
The seidhkona spoke in a cooler voice: ?Hmm. I can see a field where a crowd of green-clad folk are dancing, but as they circle, others clad in black attack them and most of them fall. I think this means that if you plant there, a blight will get most of your crop. Would you know more??
The thickset man swallowed, but answered calmly:?Is there anything I can do?? ?I am looking at the barley wights… I am asking… He says to make offerings to the landwights there. Ask their help, sing to them, and they will tell you what the field needs. This you know. For now there is no more.? ?Thank you, seeress.?
Thorlind spoke:?Well hast thou asked and well been answered. Is there another who has a question?
Others asked, and were answered. Rudi took a long breath when silence fell, then stood. He was uneasily aware of how the attention of all focused on him.
But this is a true seeing. I must know! ?My friends and I are on a… quest. Will we reach our goal safely, and find what we are seeking when we get there?? ?Cease not, seeress, till said thou hast,
Answer the asker till all he knows.?
The seidhkona was silent for a long moment, then sighed. The sound made the back of Rudi?s neck bristle; this was not a rite of his folk, but there was a power here, like a weight greater than the world could bear. As if it would tear through at any moment. And more coming; he could feel it gathering in the air, like the stretched tension before a thunderstorm. ?Ah… This is the one for whose question I was waiting, the one whose wyrd is wound with the fate of the world. At the foot of the Tree the Norns are weaving, but your choices are the thread. Need has bound you together, need impels you. Stay true to one another and you will find your island… I see an island, and something that shimmers.?
The veiled figure gasped:? I see a Sword! Shining brightness! Might is locked within it! Is that where you are going? This is very strange… Would you know more?? ?Yes, Lady, if you will.? ?Deeper I fare and farther I see… A darkness that opposes you there, a troll in the shape of a man. Beware, Son of the Raven! There is a Power behind him, more foul than any Jotun. If you fail, I see the doom of Midgard. You have questioned whether this was the Wolf Age-if this quest fails, Ragnarok will come!?
Her knotted hands clenched, and he could hear her labored breathing:?Would you know more?!? ?How fares-? Thorlinda began.
The seidhkona shook her head, a stir through the fabric of the veil. ?No-there is more to be said. This is a war of Powers. The wings of the raven swirl around me… oh… the Lord of the Ravens is near, near…?
Rudi heard his own heart pound, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was not ill and dreaming in a mountain cave now, and it was a fearful thing to meet that One. ?Does He have a word for me?? he said steadily.
The seidhkona twitched several times, straightened, and then leaned forward, resting one elbow on the arm of the chair.
A rustling stirred through the room, almost a moan. Rudi stood calmly, his hands by his sides, but he knew why that sound had been wrung from this hardy folk-and felt his hand twitch in turn, as if it reached for the hilt of a blade that was not there and would be no use even if it was. The Bjorning seeress was a woman of eighty years and more, never tall and now a little bent, stocky like an ancient oak stump, her body still obedient to a fierce and driving will but failing nonetheless.
Yet now it was as if a man sat there-a tall man, whose movements were fluid strength, and whose face was hidden by a hood, not a veil. He laughed, and the deep sound made the hair stir on Rudi?s arms, a long low chuckle rolling inhuman in the nighted Hall. Shadows gathered, moving on the walls with the dance of the flames. ?So, Son of the Bear,? the voice said.?I see that you remember our last meeting, on the mountainside where you walked the blade-narrow bridge. I have counseled many a chieftain. What would you ask of me??