City of Assassins Read online

  “We have nothing they want in this place. Nothing to fear,” says my dad, his voice heavy and dark. “The city is protected. Old, indestructible spells—”

  “The spells have been broken. Our perimeters are unprotected.” Ulrik’s voice causes an outrage.

  The whispers grow into growls and anger. I hear, “They are here to take our land and destroy our city. War will be upon us. We must rid ourselves of the intruders. It’s the law of the City.”

  My dad waits until the whispers die down. “This land was forged by the gods to protect the last true Vikings,” he says. “We’ve built it and recreated what was once lost. We will not give it up. Not now, not ever. This is our city. This land is ours. Our blood is in the red soil; our bones brace every pillar and every great wooden hall raised on these grounds. My fellow Vikings, you must trust me when I say my daughter, Nora, comes in peace and shall leave in peace.”

  “What about the gate that leads into Arres?” says Ulrik, crouching. “What if they get out?” He looks small, like he is shrinking out of fear.

  “They will not. The Garm creatures possess the power to decide who leaves and who stays. Without their permission, no one walks through the time portal. It’s a promise they are bound to.” His hand brushes the sword to his side–my sword, which was taken from me. His fingers drum against it impatiently. The gleam in my eyes is visible in the metal’s shiny reflection. It belongs to me. I have every right to take the first ever Viking assassin weapons forged.

  While I watch, he gives it to Grethe. I hold my breath so I don’t explode. Duchess or no Duchess, I am not leaving without the rest of the weapons. Nor will I leave till my dad tells me the truth he owes me. I have a feeling none of it is going to be easy.

  If the whispers from the crowd are true, I can expect something far more dangerous waiting ahead. The young Duchess they refer to can of course only be Grethe. I’ll have to fight her if the rumors turn out to be true. Perhaps even kill her. A cold chill spirals down my spine. I do not want to kill anyone. The taste of blood doesn’t thrill me. My ambition reaches higher, all the way to the assassin weapons. That’s where I have to go.

  My dad eyes the crowd like a hawk. He holds out his arm as if unfolding a deep dark secret from the dawn of the world to the twilight of the Norse gods. The power of his prayer still echoes in my ears. Strange expressions travels across his face—suspicion or perhaps hope. He jerks his head and takes one step toward me, eyes cutting.

  “The people of the city are hungry for answers, and I, alone, cannot satisfy their appetite for much longer. Soon they want battle for Vikings believe in battle and they believe in shedding blood against those they see a threat. They know why you have come, and although I cannot stop you from claiming the keep that’s your cursed heritage, I can tell you what doom it will bring.”

  “That’s not why I have come,” I say. Why would he just assume the only reason I’m here is to look for the weapons? Before we’ve had a chance to speak together as father and daughter, before the chaos that surrounds us now, and before asking me? “I came here to see you. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. Everything else can wait.”

  “Why?” he says, and the question hits me like daggers. “Why would you make such an asinine decision?”

  I’m mute, and every attempt I make to gather words withers. He doesn’t want me here. He doesn’t care about me. His fatherly embrace minutes ago, was that all just a moment of weakness or an act? I want to scream. I am furious. But instead I choke on a sudden onset of nausea. Contain yourself, Nora.

  “I—” The question feels like pain, and I can barely manage a croak. “Didn’t know…” Why would he say such a thing? He’s my dad; of course I’d come looking for him. He owes me an explanation for everything. For all the lies and deceit.

  “You must come with me this instant,” he says when I don’t go on.

  The assembly breaks up, and only we stand behind like wraiths caught in an eternal burning flame. The Earl motions for Balder to leave the gates with Frederick and Mina. I catch a glimpse of Frederick’s soft blue eyes. He swiftly turns and places both his hands to his heart, and I, too, lay both hands on my heart—a symbol of affection we’ve built between ourselves.

  Look after my heart Frederick, as I will look after yours. I let go of him, my soul aching. My caged emotions have been set free and for the first time in my life. I am afraid to lose the one that I have foolishly come to love so much. Frederick, Frederick. His name is a gentle whisper in my ear, and I know I will see him soon again. It’s only a matter of time. When I turn, my senses tell me something is wrong. Frederick’s mind feels elsewhere, distant. He knows something that I don’t.

  2

  The Secret Meeting

  WE WALK OUT of the back door, leaving the assembly behind. I continue to hold my tongue instead of lashing out with questions I should be asking my dad. I think back to my recruitment in the East when Dan, the recruiter told me, “all the answers are coming. Be patient, Nora.” I need to be patient and wait just a little longer. I hope the truth that was kept from me is soon to unravel. The truth about who I am, and what I still don’t know about myself. Why did my dad leave me?

  We pass through a door crossing the corridor. It leads us down to a secret dark tunnel. I walk with my dad and Grethe in silence, wading through the low vaulted shaft. We’re underground in some kind of catacomb. We wade among rats and other vermin hiding in the shadows.

  I force myself to adhere to the rules of this place–those that say don’t start an argument with your dad who is a respected Viking Earl. I admit having trouble accepting rules in general. There are nuisances of being raised under the Triangle’s repression and coming from the East I have no privileges. Not like those raised in the West. What norms govern this city? I do not know. They call themselves true Vikings. Hungry for battle they seize any chance they get to fight.

  For a brief while, I stop. My dad turns around, and Grethe follows closer than his own curled up shadow.

  “We have much to talk about,” he says. “I know you must be tired and overwhelmed, but you have to trust me. I am taking you to a safe place.” He motions with his hand, big and strong. His arm is covered in dark green inked Viking tattoos—the eagle crest of the Jarl raider dynasty and a symbol of courage, intelligence, and tenacity. Once he was also a raider, and now I may never know who he is or what he has become. I don’t say anything. I follow their trail in the tunnel. But he knows I have an urge to speak with him, and I can’t hold back for much longer.

  As we leave the catacombs, a strange sight meets me. A winter sky is above me and sprinkles of ice land softly in my hair. Yet the sun is warm and it feels like summer. Underneath my feet, each step crunches brown, yellow and red autumn leaves. And yet the air is fused with spring birds chirping and tweeting, and I hear the sound of a distant ticking tab of a woodpecker.

  Four seasons seem to melt into one like a conscious spell of magic. Could we be in a multi-season forest? I have heard of magical places like this one in Viking tales. I never thought I would live to be in one. The feeling is sensational. Overwhelming. I wish that Frederick were here with me to experience this moment. I hope he and Mina are safe in the Ashes. I hope Knud Forkbeard gives them the reception they deserve.

  “Where are we?” I say and turn my eyes to the electric blue sky.

  “This place belongs to Alfrothul Gunnlaug,” says Grethe. “He calls it Jølsig, which means, Peak of the World.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I say as I look around. I forget about the troubles that haunt my mind, and about the quest for the weapons. The eternal pressing need to speak with my dad pauses. The forest has enchanted me with its spell. I unwind, and after days of being on a dangerous journey I let my mind wander.

  “There is lots more,” says Grethe. “You’ve only just seen the beginning of Jølsig.” Her voice is soothing and seductive as if she wants me to follow the long winding trail in front of me. I can hear her whisper. I
t’s all right don’t be afraid. Go on and explore the woods. Go that way…

  I nearly pass a threshold that leads to the darker side of the forest when my dad pulls me close. The warmth from his hand feels like sparks of ember.

  “Nora, come with me.” He gives Grethe a hard stare. She looks away.

  We enter a great long house with rough wooden walls thatched with stout beams and a dais. Light slithers from the candles in the walls. The room at the end is dark and gritty with handcrafted furniture. Antlers and skulls are pinned against the walls, from large, rare animals.

  This world begins to feel very different from the comfort of the Triangle.

  The wizard makes his appearance. His spoken words of wisdom when he came to see me upon entering the city still linger in my head. He cannot possibly know how I feel after that. The anger and hurt I carry. The disgust, surprise and even fear, or does he? It doesn’t matter. I take in the angle of the room, where the wizard appears. It looks like an old barn with tall double doors, straw tucked into the corners. It carries a sweet smell of grain, hay, and wood. There are no animals in here, just us and outside the four seasons furiously dancing with one another.

  Jølsig feels like a dream within a dream, and the City of Vikings is an unreal place full of magic and spells. I never had any expectations of what it would be like coming here. All this while I have been focused on what I came for.

  “What now?” I say. I can’t contain myself when I look around. The edges of the hall are timber platforms. The bracken-strewn floors below are like slopes of a rocky inlet. But there’s no answer. I know this place was built to meet the needs of the fabled wizard who is as quirky as a midnight mystery. And I am here waiting for all the secrets to unfold from his and my dad’s keep. “Is this place supposed to make me feel better?”

  “You are safe here, Nora,” says Alfrothul Gunnlaug boring his eyes into mine. He shows no emotions. His face is as hard as a winter gale. He gives away nothing that leads me to believe I am safe, and it worries me.

  “Safe from what?”

  “From the curiosity of the people of this city, child,” the wizard says. “Rest now and save your strength. That’s why you have been brought here. And if you cannot rest, then go you shall.”

  “Rest?” I say. “I didn’t come here to rest. You know that as well as I do.”

  There’s silence. No one says anything. I can see why this place should ease me and make me want to trust them. It’s beautiful, enchanting and free of any worries. But how can I turn down the noise inside my head? When I first met Alfrothul Gunnlaug he told me that the quest for the weapons would cost me every single drop of strength in my bones. I’m not sure what he meant then, and I am not sure what he means now.

  I’ve also come here to meet my dad—a man of honor with a strong sense of duty. A respected man among his people. I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He appears harsh, with clothes that mask his powerful presence. Does he always strive to be this tough looking, regardless of how he actually might feel? How does he look when he is happy? I want to speak to him, get to know him, but that’s clearly not why I was brought here.

  While walking slowly across the room my dad moves his hands across old and rusty swords and shields, which are kept in the room we are in. He is sending me a clear message. I know why you have come here. I am eager to get to know more of him and want to break the cold silence between us. I partly blame Grethe for it, because I am jealous of her. Envious that she has her place in my dad’s heart whereas I do not. I may never have what she possesses and for that I resent her.

  I’ve been carrying so much love and devotion for him for so long that I do not have the courage to go against what he wants. “Nora has come in peace and shall leave in peace.” By the gods if he wants me to leave, then why am I even here? Perhaps I made a stupid decision. The Goths want the weapons, and I, I just want to be my father’s daughter. I can’t help thinking maybe it was a mistake traveling through the dangerous woods to get here. And for what? I’ve risked not just my own life, but also Frederick and Mina’s lives.

  We sit in the dark wooden chairs covered in animal skins in the main hall of the long house in which I am meant to be resting. Grethe’s face is an unreadable mask, but her body language speaks. She drums the tips of her beautiful fingers, which are dressed in golden rings with ruby, emerald, and sapphire stones. I can tell she’s nervous, like she doesn’t want to believe that I am also the Earl’s daughter.

  “How did you know it was me?” I say, addressing my dad. “When you first saw me.”

  “I recognize my own blood,” he says and gives me an honest smile. The green forest in his eyes turns dark and mysterious. His face is a dim torch against the night. “When I saw you, I knew…” He doesn’t wipe the tears that fill his eyes. Instead, they stream down his cheeks and reach his lips. He looks gaunt; deep wrinkles cutting his forehead and the small, faint lines around his lips become visible, even sitting here in the dark room. It’s like he’s aged from one second to the other. His sudden sorrow is deep, visible.

  “Knew what?” I want to hear him say the words that I have longed for all my life.

  “That you, Nora Hunt, are a courageous and brave young girl who carries the spirit of a warrior and the soul of a true Viking. You are my daughter, and I should have known you’d come looking for me one day.” Grethe stops drumming her fingers and glares at him. “When I heard from Alfrothul Gunnlaug of your arrival, I couldn’t believe it. How you made it past the time lapse and defeated Noddabah is a testament of who you really are.”

  “Who am I?” Broken with sorrow, I am more driven than ever to discover the truth about myself. Am I the cursed child carrying a doomed legacy? And is my purpose to serve the Goths and to rise against the Verans, against the boy that I love? Should I too, kill for my clan? For freedom? For fear our enemy might wipe us out?

  “Tell me, Earl Robert Hunt, who am I?” My voice nearly breaks as I hold back the grief my heart has been carrying for all these years. But I can’t let this moment of weakness wash over me and distract me from what I need to hear. The temptation to bury my face in my hands and weep is greater than ever but I won’t. I can’t.

  Not in front of her—the sister who carries murder in her eyes.

  “Nora, my child, I cannot tell you who you are.” He rises like a lean lion and walks to the glowing and cracking flames in the fireplace. Grethe’s hawk eyes follow him. “Yes, you are my blood, and have to honor your duty to your clan, to your dynasty, but being my daughter does not define who you are.”

  “I am an assassin, cursed to kill just like my ancestors before me,” I say, my voice thinning out. “That’s all I will ever be, a killer.” The smell of Maja’s blood reaches my nostrils and I feel disgusted by what I did to her.

  “Vikings are not cursed to kill,” he says. “We are warriors and believe in battle. It’s a tradition we must honor. You must confront the battles you are faced with. Set yourself free. You must either act upon your duty or—”

  “A duty you wouldn’t take on?” I say cutting him. “And the reason you chose to build a new life here in exile.” He throws me a sharp look. His face is severe. The fire in the hearth slowly dies out and the gray smoke rises like a dragon’s tale from the ashes and blends with the shadows in the room.

  “Nora—”

  “I was left to rot in the East. I was kept in the darkness my entire life and knew nothing of my Viking legacy.” My voice trembles with anger. I don’t care what he thinks my feelings are mine. I need to share the pain, the frustration I have been carrying for all this time. Damn you! I want to shout. Now, I’ve done it. I’ve let out the rage. Broken the rule. I notice the surprise in Grethe’s eyes slowly turning joyful, like she gets pleasure from the tension between the Earl and me.

  “The Goths were once glorious and magnificent Viking rulers, but their legacy is long gone,” he says. “What do you—”

  “I need to know the truth about myself,”
I say.

  “I am sorry the truth was kept from you, but it was for your own good. I did what I had to because I was trying to protect you—”

  “Save your words,” I say bitterly. “I’ve heard it all before.”

  “Listen to me,” he says. “Serving the Goths was a choice that I chose against. I made my peace with Benedikte, but I couldn’t save what was chosen for you. By the gods, I wish there was a way I could have changed your fate but your—”

  “Leader of the Goths, Benedikte is dead.” I say and looked into his bright green eyes.

  “The news reached me and I am sad to hear she is gone. She was a great and honorable woman,” he says. “The Veran Lords finally defeated her after years of pursuing her.”

  “Still, you do nothing to serve our people, our clan? Nothing to defend Goths from our enemy? You just sit here in your little world, safe and content with your daughter.” His silence feels like fire from Helheim. Burning, just burning, and I can’t contain myself. I want to rage at him because I see a coward, a selfish man. A man uninterested in the needs of others, except for those he cares for—the city he has built and its people. I feel ashamed to call him Dad.

  “It’s not my battle anymore; you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Why are you hiding? Isn’t that why you are in this place? Shutting everyone out so you can live the life you chose for yourself?”

  “I am here because I made a choice your mother didn’t want to make.” His voice lacks compassion. “But let us not make this about me. Okay?” He bellows, his face scarlet.

  “It is about you.” I raise my voice. “Don’t you understand why I have come?”

  “I am sorry for what you must have been through growing up. Feeling different and knowing you carry something inside you, a burning torch against fading candles.”

  “You have no idea,” I say. “I’m here because I’ve been waiting to meet you.” My breath falls short. Why doesn’t he take me into his arms, hold me close? That’s all I want. But he’s as cold as the winter of Jølsig.