Only once had Iwa encountered a wounded animal, whilst out playing by the aspen copse. A fox had got itself caught in the thickets where something, a wolf perhaps, had chased it. She still remembered the bared teeth and the eyes filled with anger as it faced her, its stomach ripped open and the blood dripping into the bracken. There had been a startling ferocity about the fox as it clung to life and made ready to kill anything that came close. Now she sensed the same fear clinging about the ship. She could see the krol’s eyes, the anger which blazed behind them. The anger of a trapped animal.
Kazik had survived his encounter with the elk, just as she’d managed to dodge the fox’s bite and bring its carcass back to camp. If only I can survive this. ‘I’m not a danger to anyone,’ she managed. Behind her a couple of woyaks nudged each other and smiled. ‘I was only…’ Her voice trailed away into a mumble. She had to get out and save Yaroslav somehow. If only she could spin some lie so that the krol would let them go.
‘You appear to have brought me one of the nemcy.’ Krol Gawel held out his cup for more wine. ‘I can’t make out a word she speaks. We should take her to some Frankish merchant and see if he can’t make more sense of her.’ The krol laughed into his cup. Nobody else smiled; all eyes were trained on the throne as the krol emptied his cup and, behind the sweet smell of the wine, Iwa caught a hint of marjoram.
‘I could loosen that pretty tongue of hers, great krol,’ Wislaw said, ‘if only you’d give her over to me. I’ll get more out of her than Grunmir ever could.’
‘And do you think she is that important?’ the krol replied, hardly bothering to look in her direction. Was this the best they could do?
‘Her – important?’ Alia scoffed, and this time she didn’t bother to look away. ‘She’s nothing more than a chit of a girl. Do you think that the clan would ever trust one such as her?’
‘It would be best not to take any chances,’ Wislaw answered coldly. ‘These are dangerous times, Lord Krol. We have to be sure, and my methods…’
‘Your methods have served me ill of late.’ Krol Gawel cut him off. ‘What of your barrier of skulls, or the protection of Piórun? You talk much, old man, but I have yet to see anything by way of greatness behind your words.’
Iwa looked to the floor and felt the planks press roughly under her feet. The scent of a frightened herd hung about this place. She could almost taste it in the sweat-filled air, feel it in the eyes of the woyaks who stood guard at the entrance, their spears trailing loosely in their hands.
‘You shall, great krol, when next the demon comes upon us, you shall see how my magic holds it at bay.’
‘It is you who has brought this fate upon us,’ Grunmir spat, ‘with your meddling and your trickery. It was you who disturbed the barrow mounds, when all should be left alone.’
‘I did not think brave Grunmir scared of the dead.’
‘I am content to leave the dead to their rest. You dug away at the burial mounds and released evil upon us. The dead keep their secrets,’ Grunmir shivered, ‘especially in a place like this. Evil sleeps deep amid the trees and you have awoken it with your spells and your trickery. Now the dead come to claim what’s theirs.’
‘Lord Krol,’ Wislaw drew back, visibly shaken at such open defiance. Over his eyes Iwa saw the lizards rear, their mouths drawn open and their teeth flickering in the gloom. Can’t anyone else see them? Pinned down under the woyaks’ grip, she struggled for the words that would save her. Could she really challenge Wislaw? Who, except for Grunmir, would listen? Not even Alia trusts me.
‘This man presumes too much, Lord Krol,’ Wislaw said. There was a weariness in his voice as if weighed down by a conversation he’d had once too often. ‘It is true that I disturbed the barrow mounds, but it was done in your service. And the dead have kept to their places. This is none of my conjuring and is it not my barrier which protects us all?’
He was calm now, sure of his words as he worked over well-worn arguments. Did Grunmir still try to trap him? Let him sow his discontented seeds, the krol would not so easily be swayed and the barrier had given his voice a newfound authority in the councils. There would be none to challenge him, not even the old woyak.
Yet, as the old priest circled the woyak, Iwa could see the tattoos move across the bald dome of his head, the lizards’ tongues flicking out in anger. ‘I know why the demon has condemned you.’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper now.
Nobody moved. The grip on her shoulder hardly faltered as she took a deep breath. Grunmir had to win this argument. With him there was a chance, no matter how slight. ‘You have to leave the forest in peace,’ she said as loudly as she dared. ‘The Leszy who protect the trees and the clan will never let you go otherwise.’
Around the old priest’s neck a red snake crawled, its head nestling in the hollow of his neck.
‘Leave the clan to their fate,’ she continued as the coils tightened, but Wislaw’s expression hardly changed. ‘You can take the women if you want, those that will go with you,’ she said, glancing over to Alia. Without the krol there’d be no place for her, not now. The women would tear her to pieces and Katchka would hang what was left on the linden trees as a warning to the others.
‘See how the traitoress works her tongue, my lord krol,’ he said, ‘see the
