Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (99 page)

“The cure?” Odin whispered.

He turned the pages, pondering over the rough, age-worn maps, until he came to the page that defined the Three Kingdoms and the lands to the north of the Whooping Hills and the Great Divide. No towns had been marked in these locations—likely, Odin couldn’t help but imagine, because humanity had not yet evolved.

All right,
he thought, unable to restrain the sigh that curled the corner of one page.
This is going to be difficult.

With little-to-no way to tell where anything was
beyond basic landforms, it would most likely take eons, if not more to discern where one of the concentrated sources of the Will lay.

“You have all the time in the world,” he whispered.

After turning the page in a great bout of frustration, he found himself looking at a page of Elvish letters that seemed to hold riddles, which ran in variation from a single line to several paragraphs of text.

Can you read this?
he thought.

Some of the letters seemed much more complex than he could have ever imagined. While he
’d always been a quick learner, the foreign regards and reasons of Elves were much more complex than anything he’d tried to educate himself in—including, it seemed, writing, and even though he’d learned a harsh amount of Elvish in but a brief amount of time, several portions were impossible to gauge.

Unsure how he would continue, he placed his finger along the side of the deckle-edged page, took a moment to console his frantic mind, then began to run his digit down the side of the book, careful to read whatever he could in order to find a passage
he could study in its entirety.

It came, after much search, at the very bottom of the page.

It bears the Tooth of Strength and P
lenty,

Broke apart in D
isregard,

Divided in Three and whence it C
ame,

The Ferryman upon Its B
oat.

“The Ferryman upon Its Boat,” he whispered.

A
shiver began to run up and down his spine as if it were a great tremble making its way along the land—shifting, first, the forests, then the trees before launching them into the sky. He expected his skin to peel from his body, as if burned and allowed to fall onto the floor, where it would then coil and hiss like snakes dissipating in ash, such was his horror at the feeling that came over him. It would be great, he knew, because such a sight would be foreign, and though something told him it wouldn’t happen, he couldn’t help but entertain the fantasy.

What could the passage mean, he wondered, when he took the book with extra care and slid it into its pack
? Could the riddle have been made to confuse, entice or maybe even excite, or was it simply just a strange mixture of words meant to instill a sense of location? He pondered over this idea while he crossed the distance between the desk and the bed and during the time he slid back under the covers, careful not to wake Virgin as he drew back against his chest.

Think about it,
he thought.

The tooth could have been many things—obviously, natural and quite possibly related to something completely out of this world. That he could be sure of, but he could understand nothing of said tooth being broken in disregard, nor
was there any recollection of it being divided in three. The Ferryman, though—that had to mean something of the physical realm, especially because it haunted him more than anything from the passage.

“It
’s across a body of water,” he decided, curling the quilt around his body.

That he could be sure of, as no Ferryman crossed without his boat. However
—the passage had referred to the Ferryman as an ‘it,’ not a he or she, which had to mean it was either not a creature of flesh or even sexual origin.

Knowing more than well that he had no reason to worry in this given time, he looked out
at the falling snow, closed his eyes, then pursed his lips.

Maybe the answer would come after a good night
’s rest.

He could only hope.

A knock at the door roused him from sleep.

“Odin,” Nova’s voice said, the knock continuing shortly after he spoke. “Wake up.”

“I
’m awake,” Odin said, casting a glance down at Virgin, to whom he only shook his head before throwing his legs over the bed and crossing the room. “What is it?”

“A
page came out this morning. He said you’re supposed to go to the castle and meet the royal tailor.”

The tailor?
he thought, then remembered the ball that was supposed to be held within the coming days.
Oh.

“All right,” he said,
glancing back at Virgin. “Is he ready for me now?”

“He should be in a few minutes. Change your clothes, then come out and grab a biscuit before you go.”

When the obvious fall of Nova’s footsteps sounded outside the room, Odin turned, made his way to his and Virgin’s dresser, then began to pull articles of clothing from it before he reached down to unbutton his jerkin.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Virgin asked from his place in bed.

“I’ll be fine,” Odin said, unsnapping his belt before shucking his pants down his legs. “Sorry.”

“I
’ve seen it before.”

Odin gave
Virgin a dirty look before casting his pants in his direction.

After dressing in the best pieces of clothing he
’d gained from the Elven tailor in Lesliana, Odin turned, looked over the length of his body in the mirror, then surveyed the side of the room, where he caught sight of his and Virgin’s weapons lying in a heap on the floor.

“Are you taking your swords?” Virgin asked.

“I was told by the guards that I can’t be armed,” Odin replied.

“You
are
the king’s champion, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then it should be your right to remain armed whenever you like.”

“I know. I just don
’t want to cause a scene, especially since I’ve been gone for so long. Besides—I have my magic. That’s better than any damn sword.”

“True,” the older Halfling said.

Odin sauntered over to the side of the bed, leaned over his companion, then messed with his hair before pressing a hard kiss to his brow. “I’ll be back later,” he said.

“I
’m not worried,” Virgin smiled.

“Maybe today I
’ll have word on whether or not we’ll have our own house.”

“Would you really prefer that?”

“I would prefer giving Katarina and Nova space for the baby.”

With a simple shrug, Virgin set his hand behind his head, then gestured Odin off with a jut of his chin. “I
’ll see you when you get back.”

“All right,” Odin said.

He didn’t bother to look back when he stepped out the door.

“This is quite the outfit you’ve managed to get a hold of,” the tailor said, running his hands across the fine material adorning Odin’s arms. “Did you come across this while you were with the Elves?”

“It was made by a tailor in Lesliana,” Odin nodded, to which the
tailor smiled and continued to take Odin’s measurements.

“I would tell you to wear this to the ball—because by the Gods, it is quite beautiful—but I believe the king would like his champion to be in more royal colors—gold, browns, maybe even silver or whites.”

That was perfectly fine with him. The ensemble itself only brought back memories of attacking Jarden, then fleeing from the forest. He would be glad to be rid of it once he had the opportunity to.

While the tailor continued to take Odin
’s measurements, making extra care to scrawl his numbers on a piece of parchment, Odin found himself casting his eyes around the thin space the man spent his time in making royal ensembles—including, but not limited to, a fine, pearl-pink dress that hung on a wooden mannequin on the far wall, and a stout uniform that resembled much what the castle guards wore on a day-to-day basis nearby.

“This ball,” Odin said, raising his voice for the first time in what seemed like
eternity.

“Yes sir?”

“Who all is coming?”

“The royal families from Deeana and Little
Worth, Springfield and Arroway.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“My God… I believe the annual balls began when Almany was appointed as the seventh king of Ornala. The representative from Dwaydor and Elna might even be making the trip, though I wouldn’t be surprised if no one from Dwaydor came, considering the young Monvich’s betrayal and all.”

“Whatever happened to Herrick Monvich?” Odin frowned. “I thought he was the mayor of Dwaydor.”

“He was impeached immediately after the war began.”

“Where is he now?”

“Probably in a cell. I’m not sure, to be quite honest. Most of my time is spent here, in this shop, without much socializing.”

Only able to nod, Odin knocked his boots together to allow the man to take his leg measurements and sighed when he felt the measuring tape press into the side of his hip.

“Sir Karussa,” the tailor said.

“Yes?” Odin asked.

“If I may… I would like to consider making a belt for you to hang your weapons on. I noticed you didn’t have them on you today, and wouldn’t doubt it was considering the strict security within the castle grounds, but I’m sure our king will want you by his side armed when the ball begins.”

“A belt would be nice,” Odin said. “Mine
’s getting worn out.”

“I
’ll dye it in the finest shades of gold. It’ll be marvelous—I guarantee you that.”

“Do you need anything else from me?” Odin asked.

“No sir. That’s quite all right.”

“When can I expect the clothing to be
finished?”

“Within the next few days. I work quite fast when I
’m dedicated to a project, especially when it comes to crafting an ensemble for the king’s champion.”

“I
’m honored,” Odin said, bowing his head.

He took but a moment to shake the man
’s hand before he turned and left the office.

“Do you have plans to return home anytime soon?” Odin asked.

From her place in Nova
’s armchair, which made her resemble something like a child pressed into a much-too-big place, Carmen raised her eyes from the massive book she had balanced over her entire lap and offered Odin an unsure look. One cheek bulged out, one corner of her lip curled down, she ground her jaw together, then offered a slight shrug. “I dunno,” she said.

“I imagine you miss your husband.”

“Terribly, yes. I’m sure Elrig is doing just fine on his own though.”

“You
’re a very brave woman, leaving home like that to help me.”

“Eh… you know. You do what you have to do. I appreciate the compliment though. It
’s nice to hear that I’m appreciated, especially by men I consider my friends. I suppose I’ll leave for Arbrinder when spring comes… that is, unless there’s something going on.”

“What do you mean?” Odin frowned. “Do you not believe the war is over?”

“I’m not getting my hopes up,” the Dwarf said, closing her book in one concrete slam before jumping off the armchair. “Besides—we never did catch the man who did it.”

Damn him,
Odin thought, balling his hand into a fist.

Carmen frowned.

Odin only realized his action when his knuckles audibly popped. “Sorry,” he said.

“You shouldn
’t be sorry. If I were you, I’d be mad—furious, if you want to know the truth.”

“How does it feel to know that someone or something killed your entire family?”

“Like a dagger being thrust into your chest,” Carmen said. “Like your heart’s on fire and you can do nothing to ease the ache.”

“Did you feel… well… liberated, I guess I should say, when you killed the Drake?”

“I felt no liberation at all, my friend.”

“You didn
’t?”

“I only realized destroying the thing that killed your family doesn
’t do anything for your conscience.”

So it might not even do any good,
he thought, sighing, bowing his head to the floor.

When he felt a hand at his knee, he turned his head up and looked directly into Carmen
’s eyes, only offering a slight smile when the Dwarf reached up and touched his hand.

“Thank you for all you
’ve done for us,” he said.

“It
’s no trouble.”

“You want to help me with something?” he asked.

“Sure,” Carmen said. “Watcha need?”