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89. Interlude: Rægnor - I
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 15:55:57 +0000 UTCRægnor walked down the trail cut through thin patches of grass, ferns, and needles covering the ground outside the mines. The land had started to recover from the clearing needed to set up the mine camp, but it would leave a mark for decades to come. Just like this expedition had for his people.
We shouldn’t be here. It will be our end.
The abomination’s power lingered in his mind, coloring his outlook in a dark haze. Too many intrusive, dark thoughts plagued him since the fight, but thankfully, he could now differentiate them from his own. It didn’t make them any less disturbing, but he could now push them back to the periphery with greater ease. If he could only banish them, but they all contained a kernel of truth. Many of his brothers would have died this day if not for one person.
Daniel had turned the tide.
Most of his brothers would never believe it. A Human having the strength to push back those monsters when only the Verndari could? Yet, he had seen it. When everyone else stood frozen in despair, he managed to move unassisted. He brought the potion to the people who needed it. And this wasn’t an isolated event. He picked up an assassin spider when others didn’t. These things should not have happened, not at his tier. Unless…
He didn’t dare contemplate it further. He was special, but just how special? Honor bound his actions, but how far did that extend?
He glanced over his shoulder, reassuring himself that no one else approached Daniel’s longhouse. The path had lost its signs of disuse, but it still told a tale. He had followed enough game trails during his hunts to put the previous occupants’ number over ten. He didn’t know much about the previous occupants of Daniel’s longhouse, other than they were Humans and now gone. Now he had to keep its newest resident safe.
The longhouse was strong—he had checked. It could withstand monsters long enough for help to arrive. Still, on the surface, monsters were the least of Daniel’s concerns. The longhouse was too far away.
He once again debated the wisdom of leaving Daniel with the Oresian, but Daniel needed friendship. Nothing brought brothers at arms together like surviving a tough battle. And, he could trust the Oresian to handle a few Volki. He had proven himself with the burrower, and if need be, he could reveal his connections. Daniel would be safe, and his honor would remain intact—for now.
He didn’t stop when he arrived at the line to the Commons. Food would wait until he gave a report. A few of his brothers made gestures of recognition, some with greater respect than typical. Word of today’s battle had started to spread.
He returned them, though he kept silent. As with food, camaraderie fell below duty. They all picked up on his seriousness, parting to let him pass.
A few Volki objected, and Rægnor almost stopped at the insult. An Ættar sullying his honor to obtain sustenance before his place? However, some of his brothers moved to intercept the fools. Rægnor couldn’t suppress the slight smile that appeared when the Volkski protests abruptly stopped. Ættir didn’t play games of dominance, but intimidation had its place.
The scent of smoked meat and pine smoke hung heavy in the Commons. He weaved his way through the tables, keeping his pace leisurely as he headed to the target of his search. Eiræk noticed him immediately, yet said nothing as he approached. He put down his spoon and waited. The conversation at the table ended as everyone at the table, some of the most powerful men in his tribe, turned toward him.
Rægnor didn’t slow. He knew each of them. As a child, he had hunted with them. Some were exacting; some, lenient. None were ever cruel. They had all passed along shards of wisdom, and he treasured each insight they had shared with him.
He stopped at a respectful distance to give report. “Hærlið.”
He paused after saying the title, waiting for a correction. Everyone in the tribe knew the respect the Sæmdarskati held for Eiræk’s opinions, and before the tribes had merged, Eiræk had held the role of Verndari. Sæmdarskati’s public rebuke of Verndari was unheard of, though deserved in Rægnor’s humble opinion. Even if not, even an Elder wouldn’t stop a Sæmdarskati from dismissing a man he didn’t trust.
However, no correction came, and Rægnor continued, “I’m here to give a report.”
Eiræk’s eyes narrowed. “Alone?”
“Yes, hærlið.” Rægnor’s eyes flitted back and forth, judging the Commons. Tier had privileges, and they had claimed a table tucked away from the madness of the serving lines. Yet, with this many Volk around, the walls may as well have ears. “I left my charge in the hands of another of our company.”
Eiræk frowned, taking in the implications. Only one person could fit the criteria: the Oresian. “I see.” He stood up and then addressed the veterans arrayed before him. “I need this young [Warriors] counsel before I send him back. Can any of you share some of your food?”
Rægnor started to protest, but one look from Eiræk silenced him. None of the men complained, not after such a direct request. A tray with enough food for a light dinner quickly came together, and Eiræk gestured for him to take it. “Come. We need to talk.”
Eiræk didn’t wait for a response, heading toward the back of the large building. Rægnor grabbed the food, giving a nod of thanks to the men at the table. They walked out of the Commons without a word. Neither spoke until they found a small mound that offered a view of Daniel’s longhouse.
They had put a suitable distance between themselves and the Commons, but Eiræk still surveyed the surroundings. “I assume there is a good reason you are here alone.”
As a child, Rægnor had heard this tone before, and his response had left him unable to sit for a day. This time, he would not disappoint.
“As you have already gathered, I left him in the hands of the young Oresian noble. Daniel trusts him, and he will be safe with him.”
“Quite a risk with our honor at stake.”
“A considered one. Daniel trusted the Oresian enough to have him near when he spoke with the Sæmdarskati. When I met Daniel at General Supply, the Oresian was with him. I can only imagine they saw the Quartermaster together.”
Eiræk grunted. “I can’t disagree with anything you’ve said, but even then, why leave?”
“Daniel needed space. He kept the Volki secret, though the Oresian likely knows by now.”
Eiræk frowned. “Trust without truth is a gamble. Daniel kept that from him when the Oresian had the power to protect him?”
“I don’t disagree, and I had the same question. Daniel claimed he kept the Oresian in the dark because of the firestorm that would occur with any intervention.” Rægnor shook his head. “I know. It’s foolish not to use every tool when facing death, but I believe in Daniel’s motive. He actually questioned my honor when I pushed him.”
Eiræk raised an eyebrow. “He has been around us long enough to know that means.”
“Yes.”
“This would not be the first time he has put others in front of his well-being. Something to watch.”
Rægnor’s jaw clenched as he recalled that night when his hærlið had intervened to save Daniel. His stomach still twisted at his inaction, even if forced upon by Eiræk’s demand to keep his hands clean. He could only watch as Daniel saved a Volk who had no rights to his care. Daniel had put the tribe over himself.
Of course, that meant leaving an enemy alive. “I will keep an eye out, hærlið.”
Eiræk returned his gaze to the longhouse. “You think something will come of this time together?”
“I hope so. They have much to talk about, and even if he doesn’t speak of the Volk, I suspect he will want another’s opinion after his interaction with the [Shaman]’s apprentice.”
Eiræk frowned. “Details.”
“He asked me the proper way to ask an Ættar for forgiveness after a severe breach of honor. I explained it to him. Then he immediately marched to the Healer’s Lodge and asked the apprentice for forgiveness.”
“Do you know why?”
“No, but I believe she granted it.”
“Is he bound to her?”
“No.”
“Good. The situation is complicated enough.”
“Hærlið,” Rægnor hesitated. “It may not be simple. I only observed from a distance, but she became upset after he left. If I weren’t there, she may have attacked him.”
Eiræk sat quietly, and Rægnor gave him time. Pledging himself to her was worse, but upsetting a [Healer], even an apprentice, had consequences. Finally, he spoke. “Trials from the Mother never cease. Her path has been difficult. Her mother's stature has only made it worse. He has to be a stark reminder of everything she hates about herself. Watch her.”
Rægnor knew little of the apprentice besides rumors. Most spoke to her skill at healing despite an age similar to his own. Of course, that talent fueled the more pervasive rumors of her heritage. A half-breed apprenticing with the Vísir, one of the greatest [Healers] of their age? Unheard of.
Of course, she did herself no favors by keeping to her own. If anything, it just added to the mystique of her exotic features. Many of his peers had spoken of her beauty in private. However, none dared act on it; the shame, too great. A [Healer] unable to find a partner…how that must sting.
And now his charge drew her ire.
“Hærlið…she is a [Healer].”
“I know. It is a difficult task. However, Sæmdarskati has spoken.”
Rægnor couldn’t object, but difficult was an understatement. A [Healer] could kill in countless ways, many that left no trace behind. But as Eiræk had said, it was the Mother’s way to test her children. “I will protect him.” He let out a breath. “But I can’t do it alone.” He pointed to Daniel’s longhouse. “It is secure, but with enough time, a Volk could breach it. It will need eyes at night.”
Eiræk nodded. “I agree, but the risk is low. The guards are vigilant. They should pick up on anything skulking in the camp, and they will not look kindly on anyone, Volk included, that triggers a false alarm.” Rægnor started to protest, but Eiræk raised a hand. “I will have someone watch at night. That Volk was weak, but he was also stupid. At some point, my threat may fade enough that he would find enough courage to brave the night. If so, someone will be there.”
Rægnor nodded, and the two sat in silence, listening to wind whip through the trees. Eventually, Eiræk spoke. “You have done well. Your father would have been proud.”
The words struck him like a fist and settled as a heavy weight below his heart. His father…How many years had it been? Many days, he struggled to remember his smile.
“Would he? I’m helping a Human.”
“Yes. He would. You’ve proven yourself in battle, and you act with honor—even when it would’ve been easier not to. I like to think he might’ve mellowed on Humans, the way I have. You can’t judge a man by his people.”
Rægnor looked away. They would never know his father’s thoughts. But he’d heard too many bitter diatribes.
Eiræk didn’t push him. “Anything else I need to know about Daniel?”
You couldn’t judge a man by his people. Rægnor turned those words over in his head. Would they apply if that Human was special?
His observations lay on the tip of his tongue, but he held back. His hærlið had mellowed, but Rægnor didn’t dare test the limits. He had only seen goodness and honor in Daniel.
“No, hærlið.”
“Good. Keep watch. Eat your food. I will have someone relieve you.” Eiræk stood and left, leaving Rægnor alone, staring at Daniel’s longhouse.
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