Unni flopped down by the lit hearth, her body aching and her spirit down. Brander, Sigrid, and her had worked on repairing their farm for the last week and the endless piles of rubble blanketing the interior of their longhouse had finally seemed to decrease. The hole in the roof would take major repair and it didn’t look like they would receive help from any neighbors, as the other longhouses were in just as bad, or worse condition than Unni’s and Brander’s.
The night of the raid, the flames had swallowed up most of their wooden benches and any other valuables had been plundered. Fortunately, it had snowed heavily the night the Vikings had invaded Bergendal and the fire on the roof had dwindled on its own. Unni hadn’t returned until several days later after she had gone looking for Lucia and Soren, and when she returned, she was devastated to see her hometown and her longhouse completely destroyed by the berserkers.
Brander walked in with soot all over his troubled face. “The last measly chicken just died,” he said, holding the dead fowl up by its legs. “Damn Vikings. And where is Soren and Ivar in all of this?” He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, plucking away at the chicken’s feathers.
“I don’t know, Brander. They’re probably looking for Ailia,” Unni said. Always so grumpy.
It seemed like half of Bergendal had disappeared with the Vikings. Brander and Unni’s neighboring farm had burned to the ground and they considered themselves lucky to have only major repairs.
“Has anyone located Bishop Peter yet?” Unni asked. Strange how he disappeared.
“No, he vanished with the rest of the captives. Rumor has it that they were all transported to Trollsoe, immediately to be sold as thralls. He probably joined in that group of unfortunate souls.” Brander wiped his sweaty forehead with his forearm.
“I wanted to visit the church today and help with the clean up. It was a miracle the whole church didn’t burn down.” She took off her apron and reached for her overcoat. “Are you coming with me?”
“You’re leaving our house to go help someone else?”
“Precisely.”
Brander grumbled. “I’ll stay here and keep working on the roof. As long as the hole is still there, any warm air is going to escape and we’re going to keep freezing.”
Just then, Sigrid limped in. “I’ll help you, Brander. You go, Unni. The church needs it. Besides, maybe there’ll be some clues to help you find Ailia.”
“Do you have the dagger?” Brander asked. He had given her the day after the Vikings had attacked. “I want you to keep this on your personage always,” he had said. Unni would normally have objected, but not now, not after all the slaughter she had seen of her people.
“Yes.” She lifted up her skirt so he saw it attached around her ankle. “I’ll be back before dark,” she said and shut the door behind her. She took a shortcut through the woods and soon arrived at the church.
Just as she stepped up to the door, a stranger came out. “Good day, my sister in Christ,” he said and bowed. “My name is Draper. How may I be of service?”
“Good day. I’m Unni. Nice to meet you. Are you new to the area? I cannot remember seeing you before,” she said. “Either way, I have come to be of service and I’d like to help clean up, if that’s all right with you.”
“I am new indeed—a few weeks now, as a matter of fact. Any help would be greatly appreciated.” Draper took her by the arm and led her inside. He smiled broadly, watching Unni closely as he spoke. “Are you Ailia’s aunt?”
“Yes,” Unni said, not wanting to volunteer more information than needed. Strange that he knows. Unni noticed that Draper dressed differently than the other deacons. He wore a black tunic linen alb, with a purple cloth over his left shoulder. A golden Thor’s hammer was embroidered on the bottom of the purple shawl. His head was shaved in the center like a circle.
“Ah, the Great One,” Draper said, his voice high-pitched and unusually feminine-sounding.
Unni stopped walking. “What do you know about the Great One?”
“Oh, nothing. I am only a servant of the Lord, my lady,” Draper said, bowing his head humbly. “The outside of the church is barely touched, but so many things were destroyed inside,” Draper went on.
“I see,” Unni said, walking through the chapel. More things had vanished than she had initially noticed. She saw that a few of the stained-glass windows were broken and the floor was covered in rubble and broken candles. All of the silver had vanished and the statues were either decapitated or were missing. How could they do such a thing to the Lord’s house?
“We do not have many things left, but we are trying to find the will of the Lord when it comes to finding a new leader to guide the church here in Bergendal. Unfortunately, Bishop Peter has vanished.” He folded his arms across his thick chest.
Unni wondered if Draper had anything to do with Bishop Peter’s disappearance.
“I was here the very night the Vikings struck. What horrible brutes they are. No matter. I will have you start cleaning the rotunda floor first,” he said, pointing her to the back.
“That would be great,” Unni said, taking off her overcoat and folding it over one of the benches. I will warm up once I get scrubbing. She studied the paintings on the ceiling and walls while she waited for Draper to bring her the cleaning supplies.
Draper quickly returned and set the water-filled wooden bucket on the floor. “These were the only rags I could find. They will have to do. I will be in the back if you need anything. Oh, and here is the soap.” He handed it to her.
“Thank you,” Unni said, wetting the cloth and brushing it across the soap. She started in the corner and scrubbed until the floor was squeaky-clean. As she moved toward the exit, the cloth became stuck on a splinter in the floor and ripped. That’s strange, she thought and tried to even the surface out by pressing on it. As she pressed harder on the angular edge, the other side of the triangle lifted up. Unni wedged her nails between the dark wood and the light wood and pulled. The wood lifted out of its form but plopped down again when she lost hold of the edge. Her middle fingernail broke off and she let out a small yelp. “Ow—” she said, sucking on her bleeding fingernail.
“Is everything all right?” Draper came out to check on her. “I thought I heard you say something.”
“Everything is fine,” she said and smiled innocently. “Just a splinter.”
He set his torch on the wall. “To help you see better,” he said and then disappeared into the back room again.
“Thank you,” she called after him. Certain he was gone, Unni lifted the heavy wood triangle out of its casing again and pulled as hard as she could. Underneath, and to her surprise, she saw a bronze chest. She looked around to see if anyone was watching. I’m alone. She lifted the triangle wood insert up all the way, set it aside, and pulled the chest out. It was unlocked and she opened it. Inside were numerous scrolls sealed with the Bergendal-crest. She gasped.
“What?” Draper said, peeking around the corner again. When he saw what she was holding, his eyes nearly doubled in size. “Give it to me!” he snapped. “It belongs to the church!”
“No, these were meant for Ailia,” Unni said, closing the chest and then tightening her grip around it. “She needs these. Her mother wrote them for her.”
“Are you trying to steal from the Lord?” he asked.
Unni thought she saw his eyes darken. “I most certainly am not, but Ailia is the princess and rightfully, this church belongs to her and that includes everything in it!”
“As far as I am concerned, this church belongs to Lucia, the rightful heir to the throne, the first-born and only heir. Ailia has no claim to the throne and there is absolutely no proof that she is who she pretends to be.” Draper methodically moved closer to Unni.
“Why, did Lucia set you up to this?” she asked. “Where is she anyway?”
“She has returned home, of course. Give them to me now,” he said, holding his hand out.
This is going nowhere. Unni’s overcoat was too far aw
ay to grab. She strengthened her grip around the chest and bolted toward the door.
Draper immediately followed her and was about to overcome her, but Unni turned around and socked him in the head with the chest instead. He fell hard to the floor and Unni kept running as fast as she could out of the church and toward Brandersgaard. Brander is there. He’ll help me—if I make it. It was colder than Unni had anticipated and she regretted not having her overcoat. She looked back, but she couldn’t see Draper anymore. Good, I have lost him. She kept her pace steady. Then, in front of her, came two lynxes. They hunched down as if they were planning to attack. Unni slowed her pace. I will try and scare them away. They cannot be too fierce.
“Beautiful creatures, are they not?” Draper said, easing up behind her. His forehead was cut and blood oozed down his pasty troll-looking face. “They are always eager to attack at my command, especially when raw, human flesh is involved.”
Unni turned around to face him. “This chest belongs to Ailia.”
“Oh, the lies you tell, woman,” he said. “This is not a negotiation, now give me the chest!”
Never! She sprinted in the direction of the fence bordering the field, climbed over it, and ran as fast as she could through the knee-high snow. “Brander!” she yelled, knowing it was futile. He wouldn’t be able to hear her at this distance. She ran and ran until her lungs burned and her eyes watered. Nothing will rob my daughter of her victory! Then, she remembered the dagger.
She lifted her skirt up and pulled the dagger from its casing. As a lynx pounced on her, she plunged the blade into its heart, sending it to its death without delay. The other lynx attacked from behind and clawed her across the forehead, leaving four deep slashes. Blood started dripping into Unni’s eyes, but it didn’t stop her from turning around and slicing the cat’s throat.
Draper came after her now and she forced herself to keep running. Don’t think about the pain. Think about Ailia. She ran into an abandoned barn and hid as best she could in a back room. Shadows, hide my body, she prayed. She tried to calm her frantic breath, afraid the gasping sound would reveal her location to the assassin pursuing her. She found a pushed over cabinet in the corner and hid behind it. He’ll find me. He’ll find me. She heard footsteps coming closer and closer. Cringing and holding onto the chest for dear life, she closed her eyes. Lord Jesus, keep me safe.
“Unni?” she heard her husband’s voice. Never had she been as happy to hear her husband’s voice. She stood up and let out a cry. “How did you know I was here? Where is Draper?”
“Who?”
“The new bishop or deacon from the church. He was running after me, chasing me with his lynxes, trying to steal the Aesira Scrolls. I found this chest and they contain them!” She showed him the chest.
“You found them!” he said, holding his torch up, his jovial face brightening with a wide grin.
“Let’s go home before someone finds us,” she said. “How did you know to come looking for me?”
“Well, I didn’t. The neighbors came over and said they had seen the huldras coming from the castle. We need to get inside now. The huldras are on the roam, looking for their next victims.”
“So, it’s true. They do exist.” She paused, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry I doubted you. What if they come into our home?”
“The neighbor said to kill a newborn deer and smear the blood of it on the doorframe of our house. That way, they cannot enter.” Brander looked at her forehead. “You’re hurt.”
“Never mind that. I’ll live.” She smacked his arm away. “Where would we get the deer from?”
“The neighbor had extra,” Brander said.
“Oh, thank heavens.” One less thing to worry about.
The first thing they did when they came home was to coat their doorframes with the fresh blood of the newborn deer. Then, Brander helped dress Unni’s wounds. “We’ll need to find a healer in the morning after the huldras have passed,” Brander said. “Your wounds need to be sewn up.”
Right as he finished, she grabbed the chest. “I’m hiding it in the floor,” she yelled, running into the back room. “No one will ever find it here. Now, we just need to find Ailia.”
That night, there was no sleep to be had. Cries of Bergendalers with unpainted doorframes haunted Unni and Brander through the night as huldras feasted on mortals’ bodies and lured their souls out with their death-songs.
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