‘A friend.’
It was as if the shadows unwrapped, and the wolfman stepped forward, tall, dark, his face drawn but his limbs strong, the great wolf’s pelt about him, its jaws over his head as if devouring it.
‘I can bring her here. I can convince her. My destiny is entwined with hers. It has been revealed to me.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Sindre, called Myrkyrulf.’
‘You are a sorcerer?’
‘Of a sort.’
‘How much are you looking for?’
‘I don’t want silver; I need something greater than treasures from you.’
‘What?’
‘Your promise. The one-eyed god is coming to earth and we must prevent it.’
Helgi swallowed. The man seemed to know about Loki’s prophecy, but the god had revealed it no one, and no magician had even come close to guessing it so far.
‘What promise?’
‘You must keep her safe. You must find a place of safety for her.’
‘That is my wish, but I cannot get to her.’
‘I can.’
‘So why do you need me?’
‘Because it is my destiny to die at the hands of my brother. I can bring the girl here, I am sure, but her ongoing protection must be someone else’s responsibility.’
‘Who is your brother?’
‘The sorcerer called the Raven. This has been revealed to me.’
‘By who?’
‘By my mother.’
‘Who is your mother?’
‘A slave from the north. Her name is Saitada and she is a wide-seeing woman and an enemy of the hanged god.’
‘What do you know of the one-eyed god. Of Odin?’
‘I am his enemy.’
‘Is he coming to earth?’
‘We can prevent him.’
‘How?’
The wolfman touched his own neck. A pebble hung there, a common grey stone with the crude etching of a wolf’s head upon it.
‘This is a gift of Loki, the enemy of the gods. It stops magic, silences runes. To come here she will need her magic to defend herself. Once she is here, she must wear this, the Wolfstone. The wolf will not find her while she wears it. You will be able to get her to a place of safety.’
‘Why will she not go to a place of safety without it? Does she seek death?’
‘She doesn’t, but the runes do. And she is pursued. There is another woman who carries the runes. She seeks the lady’s death and is very capable of causing it. She and her brother — Hugin and Munin, strong sorcerers as I know to my cost — are servants of Odin.’
‘I have heard of them.’
‘I have fought them, but I cannot risk too much. It is my brother’s destiny to kill me. This stone has been my protection.’
‘Keep your stone. I have had enough of charms,’ said Helgi.
‘My mother is skilled in Seid magic and used this stone for many years to protect herself from witches. Put this on her, and you and she will be safe from the runes. The god cannot come together on earth. Ask yourself why I should lie about this when I have spoken so much truth about everything else.’
Helgi looked at the man and believed him. He knew so much; he wanted no reward; he had come unseen past the town’s guards. All this was reason to accept what he said, but there was more: Helgi wanted the wolfman to be speaking the truth, so he decided that he was. ‘The destiny will be prevented?’ Helgi thought of Ingvar marching at the head of his army.
‘This is my hope.’
‘What do you need to get to Paris?’
‘Only a guide,’ said the wolfman.
‘I will give you my strongest men.’
‘Let me travel quietly,’ said the wolfman. ‘To conquer Paris and take the girl you would need ten thousand warriors. Better to send none at all than too few. We are to take the girl by stealth. I need only a guide, a little man who can go to an inn and buy food for me without sparking comment.’
It was then that Helgi had thought of the merchant who had come to him petitioning for a loan to help buy a cargo that he was certain could earn the prince ten times his outlay. Helgi had sent him from his hall. The man had been unlucky in business and the khagan thought it might be catching. But Leshii the silk man would do, he thought, for men came scarcely any littler than he.
Helgi had a question before granting the wolfman even a dog to guide him: ‘If you are certain of death, then why do you try to save the girl? You will not be here for her.’
‘Because I have died for her before. It is my destiny to do so. It is the nature of my bond to her. And if the god fails to come to earth, perhaps his spell will be broken and when we live again…’ he seemed briefly lost for words ‘… we can live unremarkable lives.’
‘It is a blessing to be a hero,’ said Helgi.
‘I have not found it so,’ said the wolfman.
Helgi held out his hand. ‘The stone. I will need it if it is as you say, and the magic inside this girl can work independently of her will.’
‘No,’ said the wolfman. ‘I will need it to fight the forces that are against me.’
‘So how will it come to me?’
‘We have a powerful god working for us in Loki. This is his gift. If he wants you to have it, as I believe he will, then the stone will make its way to you.’
Helgi did not know what to believe but he was certain of one thing. The wolfman seemed confident he could recover the lady from Paris, and the prince would only have to risk the life of one failing merchant to let him try.
39
Water and darkness. Cold and noise. A voice singing. Singing? Jehan could see nothing. He was pinioned to something, tied with his hands behind his back, up to his chest in cold water. Someone next to him was singing. Plainsong. The words seemed curiously muted, a tight little echo that spoke of a low roof.
‘You will not fear the terror of the night,
Nor the arrow that flies by day,
Nor the plague that prowls in the darkness,
Nor the scourge that lays waste at noon.’
The voice was tremulous, the notes uneven, but Jehan could tell it had been trained in the monkish practice. The song was a psalm. He felt so strange he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or awake.
‘Who is here?’ said Jehan.
The sensation of hunger was no duller in him. He spat. The taste in his mouth was vile. Poison. Yes, he had been poisoned. He recalled the Vikings in the warming house. The poison on their lips had not killed them — they
