Swords. What strange things they can be. I mean not the way they can deal death, rather, that some seem to have a life of their own.
I sit with my sword across my lap, a family heirloom passed to me through four generations. Tirfreca had been my ally through many a dubious encounter, and had seemed from the days of my childhood, when worn by my father, to be far more than a very well forged blade.
‘Strong-champion’. Indeed, I had always thought the strength was in the intent of the wielder. A champion was a protector, a leader of his people. None with base intent could wield that sword with its full potential. It reminded me often to keep to my own vows as Thane.
The Sword of Seeing, one of the artefacts of the land upon which Bancross had been built, was also in my hands. But there was another sword I sought. Not as much for myself, rather to keep it falling into the wrong hands. And this within a burial mound, said to be guarded by the dead.
I had in mind a small and stalwart party to accompany me. Ealdbriht, when he returns from his current quest; Eadrinn, that no-nonsense mountain of a man under Denholm’s orders, and one other. It was that ‘other’ I mused upon when there was a firm knock on my door.
“Enter.”
My guards kept a good watch on me these days. I wanted no repeat of the assassination attempt.
“You summoned me, my Thane?”
And there she was, tall and straight as ever. A walking, talking bastion of wisdom and support, or almost…nay of equal value to me as Tirfreca.
“Indeed, Northgyth. Please, take a seat.”
I placed the sword on the table not as a reminder of my authority but of my understanding of certain hidden subjects. Subjects like shapeshifting.
My lifelong Wise Woman looked me in the eye. “You have heard the rumours of course.”
I nodded. “Thanks to dear Hildfrith, so have all of Bancross. To say there is some fear of losing you is an understatement. “ I indicated the chair opposite me again. She sighed.
“Very well, Averel. But my time is precious at the moment. They are saying I will depart Bancross at Midsummer, no?”
“Yes. That is the tale.”
Of course the village was concerned. If Northgyth left, she who had helped birth many a child, tended many a sickness, mended many a wound, was near irreplaceable. We would have the garrison surgeon, of course, and possibly Ymma would remain. But our other promising healer, Yllfa, was away on a trade mission with her man, and said not to be in the best of health herself.
“I want to know the truth of it, old friend. And if there is aught I can do to help.”
Now she sat, elegantly as always. She folded her long fingered hands on her lap.
“It is a truth, but not as straightforward as is said.”
“Speak to me, Northgyth, that I may understand. And remember, I know of the grey mottled great owl that sometimes settles on the roof of the Mead Hall to keep watch.”
I smiled.
She blinked.
“I may have slain Yllfa,” she stated directly. “Rather, my attempt to heal her may have left her with little spirit to live.”
I settled back, thinking this would not be as straightforward as I had hoped.
“Explain to me please, in a way I can understand. What happened, and how can we alter the outcome?”
Now she smiled her secretive smile. “Alter the outcome indeed. I am seeking to reweave certain threads that she may live. This is why I am closetted more than usual, and why I may have to leave….at least for awhile.”
She smoothed out the folds of her dark grey robe and nodded to the door.
I listened, knowing she heard better than I.
“Hildfrith, is that you?”
A female voice mumbled something, then coughed as the door was pushed open a little.
“Excuse me Averel Thane, but I need to speak with you about Captain Denholm,”
‘Again’, I thought, but I knew what Hild was really after.
“Then come back later this afternoon, Hildfrith. I am busy at the moment.”
The tavern keeper glanced swiftly around the room before nodding and closing the door, just as one of the guards caught up with her, and escorted her out.
“Hildfrith is a frequent visitor of yours?” Northgyth inquired politely.
I nodded. “She is a kindly woman, but has this thing about our good Captain refusing to accept her in the guards.”
“Does she have any training?”
“No. Just a will not to be left out.”
Northgyth smiled knowingly. “I will speak with her. But first, our matter?”
I gestured that she should continue. “What happened?”
Her eyes were shining like steel grey stars for a moment. A Lady of iron will usually.
“I treated Yllfa for what ailed her, just after the battle. I was too hasty in my action and severed her from part of her spirit.”
“Her fetch, you mean? The wolf?”
“Ha, you understand well. But Yllfa is a little different from those others I have known. It is not simply sharing a body with an animal for a short time, as I do, but rather a lifelong bond with an animal’s spirit.”
Now I had guessed a few things about Yllfa the more I had come to know her, but this was something different to me. I was intrigued, but sensed there was more behind Northgyth’s tale.
“So Yllfa weakens by the day, with no strength of spirit to fight back with. How do we alter the outcome?”
Northgyth sighed deeply. For once I expected her to say ‘I do not know.’
“I must go into a trance and seek the threads I cut. I have herbs and potions ready. Ymma will watch over me. But I must not be disturbed for three days. This is not an easy working.”
“You are not sure it will work!” I stated, sensing some hesitancy. It was so rare to see Northgyth doubt herself.
“I got something important wrong, Averel. I got it wrong with she who is to eventually be my successor.”
And there we had it! Northgyth would not allow herself to make mistakes. The village could suffer if she did.
I leaned forward, holding a hand out across my table.
“You know, since I was a boy I can count on three fingers the times you have been wrong.”
She looked up, meeting my gaze.
Grey Lady, Owl Lady, Lady of the Stars.
“I only serve a servant of a servant. I am mortal. You know that,” she said.
“I do, but you are the nearest to any servant of Bema I have ever known, even if you name Her as your patron. Northgyth, do not doubt yourself. I do not doubt you.”
She snorted, a dismissive sound.
“Alright then, what is this about leaving at Midsummer?”
“If this fails, my only other hope is to finish the potion, and take it to Yllfa. If she still lives by then it will be by Bema’s blessing. There is a plant I need that grows in the shade of the elf woods. I believe it only blooms for a few weeks, around Midsummer. If I find it, I will seek Yllfa and administer it to her. If she still lives.”
Never before had I advised my advisor. I had no wish to start now, but I would ensure she was as well equipped as possible to deal with the matter.
“Then I shall send guards to keep you undisturbed, aye even from Hildfrith, as soon as you are ready. And Ealdbrigt will accompany you if you needs must seek for the flowers. I would ask of you to in no way consider leaving us at this time. When Yllfa is back, she will still need time to take on your mantle. And I will not have us left unguarded.”
Northgyth unfolded her hands, again smoothing out her gown. She looked vaguely amused.
“You want me to go on the search for the sword of Framsburg, do you not?” she said.
