Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (65 page)

No.

He couldn’t find the quilt, no matter how hard he tried.

Where could Virgin have gone? Had he
thrown himself short despite the obvious rocks that pockmarked the ground? It should have been
right there,
right in front of him and between the two rocks, yet he could see nothing. Not even the rocks were visible in the darkness and beneath all the snow.

“Virgin!” Odin screamed. “Virgin!”

He expected lightning to strike overhead—to signal the coming of a storm so great and fierce only it could have torn the world asunder—but instead there was nothing. Not even the snow let up in spite of the fact that he was now in the open and completely vulnerable to the elements.

Raising his hands, Odin began to channel white fire into them, all the more ready to
free his companion from the snow’s oppressing weight.

A thought occurred to him.

Were he to move snow from one location and atop of another, who was to say that Virgin would not be covered even more?

“Virgin!
VIRGIN!”

A growl sounded behind him.

He spun.

His swords were out within a moment.

Standing directly before him with their lips snarled and their shoulders hunched forward were three wolves, which appeared to be black specters in a world without life. Their eyes—almost like black pits of nothing—watched him with a cunning ferocity he feared and revered at the absolute same time. He’d never been one to cower under the stare of regular animals, to turn his head to shy away from earthly persecution, but in the face of these horrible creatures, he couldn’t help but tremble.

Where the hell are you?
he thought, taking a few steps back as the animals began to advance on him.

If Virgin didn
’t suffocate by the time he found him, surely he would freeze or be crushed beneath the snow.

One of the wolves snarled, then jumped forward.

Odin swung his father’s silver-coated blade forward.

Though no direct hit was made, the resulting, harmonious hum caused each of the wolves to
falter.

Father?
he thought.

The hilt began to trem
ble, as if cold and willing to be placed in its sheath.

The wolves snarled.

Odin raised his head.

From the tip of his black-bladed sword he fired a concentrated shot of flame.

The plume of fire struck the ground at the wolves’ feet.

The ground exploded.

Snow rained down.

The wolves cried out in either surprise or fear before high-tailing it back down the road.

Directly beneath his foot, Odin felt something shift.

“Virgin!” he screamed.

A lone protrusion appeared in the snow to reveal the quilt.

After thrusting his swords into their sheaths, Odin threw himself onto the ground before tearing the quilt of
f Virgin’s body.

“Virgin!” he cried, grabbing the Halfling
’s face as he sucked in a gasp of air. “Virgin!
Virgin!”

“What?” his companion managed.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m
fine,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position before leaning forward and coughing his lungs out. “Damn this weather.”

“There
’s wolves nearby.”

“Wolves?”

“They tried to attack me after the snow fell in on you.”

“What took you so long to find me?”

“I don’t know,” he said, bowing his face against Virgin’s when he was unable to resist the urge to cry. “I don’t know, Virgin. I thought you were right there, but… when the snow fell down, I must’ve fell back a few steps because I thought… I thought…”

“You thought
what?”

“I don
’t know!” he cried, tearing his eyes from his partner’s face. “Goddammit! I thought I’d lost you.”

“I
’m fine, Odin. Here—help me up.”

With little more than a passing breath, Odin reached forward, took Virgin
’s hand, then helped him to his feet, careful not to trip over the quilt as his companion bent to retrieve the pack from beneath the snow.

“Thank the Gods you
’re all right,” he sighed.

“We should
’ve known that the snow would’ve gotten worse,” Virgin said, shaking his head as flakes began to develop atop his skull and around the hair framing his face. “Dammit. There’s nothing we can do or nowhere we can go.”

“We should keep going,” Odin said.

“In this weather? We’ll freeze to death!”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Odin sighed.

A wicked gust of wind tore around the now-covered rock formation and shifted their cloaks.

“If there
’s nothing we can do,” Odin said, turning his head to look where the road had once been, “then we’re better off heading to Drianna.”

“We can find shelter,” Virgin said. “I
know
we can.”

“There
’s no point, Virgin. It’s just…” He paused, then shook his head before reaching up to finger his brow. “If we try and settle down, either the weather will get us or the wolves will.”

“How many were there?”

“Three.”

“Three?”

“Yes.
Three.”

“All right,” the older Halfling sighed. “Come on.”

“Are we going to Drianna?”

“We
’ll damn well try.”

Much of the next few hours were passed in silence. Thankfully, as the night progressed and the moon became visible in the far eastern sky, the snow settled and eventually began to fall in light, even flakes, which did little to deter them or their pursuit toward the Point town of Drianna.

So cold,
Odin thought, jamming his fingers into his armpits.
So, so cold.

He
couldn’t complain. Once upon a time, he’d experienced true cold in a land far away, in a place where old creatures died young. In walking along this route, across this arctic wasteland that had grown peaceful now that the storm had settled, memories of the past seemed to fly forward with each flake that kissed his skin and added to the overall misery that dwelled within his body.

To think that was all those years ago,
he thought, unable to suppress the laugh that followed.

“What
’s so funny?” Virgin asked, voice calmer than it should have been in their predicament.

“Just remembering the past,” Odin said.

“Your father?”

“And my best friend.”

“They must be great men. Both of them.”

“They are,” Odin said.

And were.

The words sharp like a dagger penetrating deep into his kidney, he bowed his head and saw that the snow had risen past a mere breath off the ground. No longer did it seem
insolent and without consequence. Now nearly as deep as the heel of his boot, it appeared all the more willing to rear its ugly head and thrust them into yet another horrible predicament.

“Can I ask you something?” Virgin murmured, lifting his head.

“Anything you want,” Odin replied.

“This might be inappropriate to ask, considering our circumstance and all, but…”

“But… what?”

“You and I… well…” Virgin paused, then stopped in midstride, causing Odin to grind to a complete halt.

“What is it, Virgin?”

“I
’ve been wondering about something for a little while now, and… well… I wasn’t sure how to express it without sounding childish or unsure of myself.”

“But you
’re still not completely sure.”

“Right. Which is why it makes me feel awkward to ask whether or not we plan on staying together after we get back to your homeland.”

Whether we plan on staying together?
Odin thought.
How could he—

It hit him, slowly, but fiercely, as if he
’d just been struck a mortal blow.

“You don
’t think we’ll be together when I return to Ornala?” Odin frowned, unsure what to say.

“It
’s something I’ve been considering for a while now. You as well as I know that most of humankind doesn’t take kindly to our kind.”

“What kind?”

“Queers,” the Halfling said.

“That
’s such a dirty word,” Odin sighed, sliding his hands into his pockets and waiting for Virgin to follow suit before he continued up the road.

“It
’s what we are, Odin.”

“I know, but—“

“But… what?”

“I don
’t give a damn what anyone thinks about me or who I sleep with, if you want my honest opinion.”

“But there will be speculation.”

“I know.”

“And there will be harsh consequences. You know this.”

“Why is that?”

“Because a king
’s champion isn’t supposed to bed another man, Odin—he’s supposed to bed a woman.”

“Who says?”

“History. Tradition. Custom.”

“Damn them,” Odin said. “I don
’t care what anyone thinks about me. I never have followed custom and I never will.”

“Surely your king will.”

“The king—”

“Even you don
’t know what the man you serve thinks, Odin.”

“No.”

“Then you know it’s hard for me to keep my heart so open when I’m not sure I’ll still have the person I consider truly special in the coming months.”

“Do you love me?” Odin asked.

He’s not going to answer that,
his conscience whispered.
He didn’t answer it the first time. What makes you think he will now?

Fate, perhaps, maybe even a shroud of dignity that hadn
’t been there previously—he didn’t know, and honestly didn’t care where the source did or didn’t come from, but it would be nice to have an honest answer this time around.

“Virgin,” Odin said.

“I can’t answer that question, Odin.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not sure.”

“I know. You
’ve said that before. Because you didn’t know.”

“I
don’t
know.”

“What do you
feel?”

“Intense, personal connection.”

“Between us?”

“Yes.”

“We lived together, we ate together, we
slept
together. You didn’t kiss me that often because… well… I guess kissing isn’t your thing, but that doesn’t really matter—at least, not to me, anyway. What I would like is a straight answer, if you can give me that.”

“Does what we have now not satisfy you?”

“How
can
it when I’m unsure of everything all the time?”

“I wouldn
’t say you’re unsure,” Virgin said.

“Oh?” Odin asked. “What would you say then?”

“You’re uneasy because I haven’t directly answered your question. That’s understandable. I’ve
tried
to answer it in my head dozens, maybe even hundreds of times the past few months that we’ve been together, but I’ve never been able to figure it out. It isn’t a simple question to answer, Odin.”

“All right,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head up to look at the mute scenery before them.

“You’re not… mad at me, are you?”

“Not mad.”

“Upset, then?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You can
’t be sorry for something you didn’t do, Virgin.”

“I hate to see you hurt.”

“That means a lot to me.”

“I know it does. Just as you mean so much to me.”

Just as you mean so much to me.

Could he, in the end, really be satisfied with that, affection and all?

Odin closed his eyes.

As they continued into the
darkness, it seemed all the doors in the world were closing and yet one window remained open. Through it, he knew, light would stream, but never would he be able to crawl through its confines, for suffocated by its maker it was.

They continued through the night until they saw beacons on the horizon. Wavering forth as if beckoning them toward their presence, illuminating the vast darkness that placated the world madly and without respect, giving hope to any looking upon them and instilling within them a sense of ease which could be compared to the greatest thing in the world—in spite of everything they had endured throughout the night, Odin couldn’t help but take their presence as a sign that, finally, their suffering would be over.