Then the absurdity of it hit me hard. ‘I can’t!’ I cried. ‘I’m a complete novice, and I haven’t the first idea how to use the shining stone! If I’m very lucky, I might see some random, meaningless images, and yet you’re asking me to look for one specific man, who’s somewhere out in the wilds between here and Miklagard! Hrype, I can’t do it!’
Slowly the echoes of my loud voice faded and died. There was nothing to hear but the fury of the storm outside. I waited for some reaction, from Hrype, from Edild – surely my aunt would come to my rescue? Couldn’t she see as well as I could how impossible a task Hrype was demanding of me? – but neither spoke a word.
Finally, Hrype said, ‘You won’t know till you try.’
I don’t know how it came about, but, not long afterwards, I was sitting cross-legged by the fire, the shining stone resting in my open hands and my little piece of lapis tucked inside my bodice, close to my heart.
I sat there for some time. The rising pitch of the storm seemed to recede, and I was only barely aware of the furious, driving rain beating weightily down on the roof. I seemed to have lost the last remaining residue of my own will. I did as Hrype bade me, and focused all my attention on the stone.
At first, I saw the same images I’d seen before. A wide river, winding away ahead into infinity. Then that picture of a team of men, working so hard that I could sense the strain as they pulled and heaved at long ropes and an unbearably heavy load. Now I perceived that there were oxen too: big, lumbering beasts that steamed with the sweat of effort. Fast water, broiling in high plumes of white spray over vicious black rocks. A shaped stone, marked with runes. Then the sea – I heard waves lapping on a shore – and a sense of calm as the wind filled a great square sail high above. A vast port, white buildings brilliant under a bright blue sky filled with sunshine. People, so many people, their garments, even their skin and hair, very different from any I’d ever known; voices raised in furious dispute. The water again, deep, deep blue …
Lulled, half-entranced, I let myself be led. I allowed my vigilance to drop. And then they came straight at me, those two dark, sinister birds. For a split-second I saw a very familiar face – what on earth was he doing there? – and then the ravens were upon me, their long, strong, cruel beaks wide, their claws spread out like a handful of knives. I cried out, dropped the stone and my hands flew up to cover my face. In that instant, I knew, the ravens had been on the point of going for my eyes.
For a few heartbeats, nothing happened except that, perhaps in response to the terrifying thing I’d just seen, the violence of the storm increased for a moment to screaming pitch. Then Hrype gave a deep sigh, and, as if that released Edild from some spell, she got up, hurried across to me and took me in her arms.
I could have stayed there, held close against her, hearing the steady beat of her heart, for a long time. But then Hrype said calmly, ‘Lassair, the shining stone is loose on the floor. You must treat it with more respect.’
I disengaged myself from my aunt’s embrace. Reaching out, I picked up the stone. It had felt quite hot before, probably from the warmth of my hands, but now it was cold. I wrapped it in the sheep’s wool and put it back in the leather bag, pulling the drawstrings tight. Then I replaced the bag in the little recess behind the shelf where I store my bedding during the daytime. As soon as it was hidden away, the atmosphere in the room changed.
But I wasn’t going to be allowed to forget what had just happened. Hrype said, ‘Did you see him?’
‘I didn’t see Skuli, no.’ I was going to keep to myself the identity of the man I had seen.
‘What did you see?’ Hrype persisted. ‘What scared you so badly?’
I took a breath, trying to calm myself. ‘I saw a river, and a place where men used oxen, and their own strength, to drag a long, slim ship over the land,’ I said. ‘I saw perilous rapids, and a stone carved with runes. I saw the sea, and then a busy port. Voices arguing, and the sea again. Then -’ I faltered – ‘then the birds came.’
‘You saw Skuli’s voyage,’ Hrype said, and I could detect a note of triumph in his voice. ‘You saw his journey down the long rivers that lead off to the east and the south, and the portage route where they transport the vessels overland. You saw the rapids, and-’
It was high time to rein him in. ‘Hrype, all of that could have come from my imagination,’ I told him firmly. ‘I already knew about the journey to Miklagard -’ my grandfather had described it, in great detail – ‘and no doubt I just thought I saw those pictures in the shining stone. Probably,’ I added, glaring at him, ‘because you just put Skuli into my mind, and you’ve been pushing me so hard to succeed in spying on him.’
He considered this, and gave a curt nod. ‘That’s possible,’ he acknowledged. ‘Perhaps, in truth, you saw only what you expected to see.’
‘What is this news of Skuli?’ I demanded. ‘And how do you even come to have news, when he’s so far away?’
‘The journey to Miklagard operates both ways,’ he said. ‘Men travel back north again, and they bring tidings from the south lands.’
Yes. That made sense. There was nothing mystical about a returning mariner bringing tales of what he had seen and experienced. I still didn’t understand, though, how Hrype had come to hear these tales; perhaps he’d been visiting some port up on the coast. ‘So what do they say, these tidings?’
Hrype watched me for a moment. Then he said, ‘Merely that Skuli has arrived in Miklagard, and that the voyage passed without major incident.’
Such was the power of his presence that, in that moment, I accepted what he said.
Suddenly he got up, reaching for his still-wet cloak.
‘You’re going?’ Edild said. He nodded, drawing on his boots. She gestured with one hand towards the roof, on to which the rain was hammering in a hard, steady, deafening beat. ‘You can’t go out in this!’
He smiled briefly. ‘I am already wet. A little more will not hurt, and it is not far.’ He bent and kissed her, pausing for a moment to rest a tender hand on her cheek. She bowed her head in acknowledgement.
He had the door open and closed again so swiftly that only a little rain came in. I watched my aunt staring after him. Briefly, all the pain of her situation was in her lovely face. She must surely know that she had Hrype’s love and his heart; sometimes it probably wasn’t enough.
She busied herself spreading out her bedding once more, then she lay down. The fire was dying, giving only a small amount of light. ‘Try to sleep, Lassair,’ she said. ‘From the sound of it, this storm is a very bad one. We will have troubles enough to face in the morning, and will need our strength.’
I turned on my side, facing away from the hearth, and closed my eyes. But I knew I wouldn’t sleep; not yet, anyway, for my mind was racing. Something was wrong, and now, in the darkness, I worked out what it was.
While his powerful, dynamic presence had still been in the little room, Hrype had easily persuaded me that the news of Skuli’s arrival in Miklagard, following an uneventful journey, was nothing to get excited about. He’d wanted me to accept the news without question – without even stopping to think about it – and, Hrype being Hrype, that was exactly what I’d done.
But Hrype wasn’t there any more.
As if it were an animal roused from sleep and instantly on the alert, I felt my curiosity wake up. I even had a swift image of my spirit creature, and I felt Fox’s warm presence curled up beside me. It was a while since I’d been aware of him, and it felt good to have him back. He was, I’m sure, encouraging me.
A dozen thoughts and ideas flew through my head. I forced them into order, and, focusing all my attention inwards, this is what I finally concluded.
From the first time I’d heard about Skuli and the mission he felt compelled to fulfil, there had been the sense that I wasn’t being told the full story. My grandfather had said Skuli was driven by powerful forces within him to succeed where his forefather had failed, and complete the journey to Miklagard. Thorfinn had implied that there was something deeply perilous about the voyage, which was why Skuli had tried so desperately and so ruthlessly to acquire the shining stone. Not only did he believe he was its true keeper; he was convinced he would not succeed without it. Out of the past, I seemed to hear my grandfather’s voice: He believes that the place where he is bound can only be reached with the aid of the spirits.