I climbed down from the rocks, dusting my hands off before striding toward Mielda. Her ears flicked as I patted her strong neck, murmuring a quiet reassurance before pulling myself onto the saddle. I barely had time to gather the reins before a small figure rushed to my side… it was Ela.
She smiled up at me, her excitement clear, but her eyes—they told a different story. That spark of joy couldn't quite hide the sadness hiding beneath. The loss of her father weighed heavy on her, but she carried it well, masking her grief so the wounded men wouldn't bear it too. A strong little sparrow, doing her best not to burden the flock.
"Valrik," she piped up. "May I come with you?"
I tilted my head. "You just got here," I said. "What business do you have in the city, little one?"
"I need to head back to the blacksmith," she explained, shifting on her feet. "There'll be a raid tonight. We need weapons—will you join us?"
I exhaled. "I just spoke to a woman about it," I said. "I gave her my word. I'll be there."
Her eyes lit up. "You talked to Grimda?"
"I didn't catch her name," I admitted. "But I think it was her, yes."
"Thank you!" she beamed. "I don't know what we would do without you!"
Before I could respond, she reached out. I grasped her small hands, lifting her onto Mielda's back with ease. She settled behind me, gripping the back of my tunic as I gathered the reins.
Movement caught my eye. Freydis was watching us from a short distance away, arms crossed, her gaze sharp with quiet consideration.
"She wants to go to the blacksmith," I called out. "Do you allow it, Freydis?"
"Yes," she answered, raising her voice so there was no mistaking her decision. "Just don't leave her alone, Valrik. Please."
"Of course," I said. "You can trust me."
She nodded, though the weight in her eyes remained.
With a small nudge of my heel, Mielda started forward, her hooves crunching against the earth as we left the campsite behind.
She was being stubborn again. She never liked carrying anyone but me, but at least she was tolerating Ela. A small mercy—I didn't feel like walking all the way to York, not with my wounds still aching, especially the deep one along my back.
"She's beautiful," Ela said after a moment, her voice quiet against the wind.
"Mielda," I replied. "She's a good horse. Had her for nearly ten years."
Ela sighed wistfully. "I want a horse of my own someday." She hesitated, then added, "My father… he used to teach me how to ride."
I glanced over my shoulder. Her grip had tightened slightly, like she was holding onto something more than just my tunic.
"I'm sure he was a good man," I said, my voice softer now. "Even though I didn't know him, I can guess what kind of man he was."
She swallowed, then spoke carefully. "We have no Jarl now. And my mother… she doesn't want to take my father's place."
That surprised me. She was young, but the way she spoke—so mature, so steady—made me pause.
"Why not?" I asked.
"She doesn't like being Jarl," Ela admitted. "She hates it, actually. That's why my father took the role instead."
I nodded, understanding. "Not everyone is meant to lead." I adjusted my grip on the reins. "But I think, if she chose to, she would be a good one."
"Yes…" she murmured. "She would."
The road stretched ahead, leading toward the city's outer walls. York itself loomed just beyond, its towering walls keeping the chaos of the world at bay.
We would have to dismount soon—there was no entering York on horseback without drawing the wrong kind of attention.
Ela shifted behind me, then reached into her pocket. "Here."
I glanced down as she held something out. A small, cooked mushroom. I took it, rolling it between my fingers. From the look of it, someone had prepared it properly. And since I knew a thing or two about wild edibles—mushrooms, berries, and all sorts of things—I decided these were safe to eat.
"Thank you," I said, popping it into my mouth. "Did you cook this yourself?"
She shook her head. "No, but I picked it. My mother taught me how to survive in the wilderness." she said. "What about your mother, Valrik? What was she like?"
I chewed thoughtfully before answering. "A wonderful woman. Sometimes scary." I chuckled. "She'd get angry when my brother and I sneaked out into the forest, trying to hunt game."
"You have a brother?"
I hesitated for just a second before nodding. "Not by blood," I said. "But I see him as my brother. Even now."
Ela leaned forward slightly. "Even now?" she asked. "Why? What did he do?"
I felt Mielda slow beneath me.
"It's… complicated," I said.
Ela didn't press further, sensing that was all I'd give.
Instead, I exhaled and pulled on the reins. "Let's dismount here and hitch Mielda. "We shouldn't enter York on horseback," I explained. "The guards would be suspicious of me."
Ela nodded. "Alright."
I gave Mielda one last pat before leading her toward a sturdy branch to tie her up. As I hopped off, a sharp sting ran through my back, but I ignored it. Instead, I reached for Ela, gripping her waist and lifting her down gently. She landed with a soft thud, adjusting her dress as I tightened Mielda's reins and gave the horse another reassuring pat.
"Let's go," I said, cloaking myself. "I need to stop by the monastery first. Would that be okay?"
Ela shrugged. "Of course. You're going to see John?"
"Yes," I replied as we began walking toward the city gates. "I owe him a proper thanks. I don't like being in debt to people."
"Right," she said, then hesitated before offering, "I can go pick up the weapons while you—"
"No," I cut in sharply, pulling my cloak tighter around me. "I gave your mother my word. You'll stay with me, and we'll go to the blacksmith together. Understood?"
She exhaled, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. Okay."
The city gates loomed ahead, manned by a handful of guards. Ela gave one of them a subtle nod, and just like that, we slipped inside without a hitch.
I rolled my shoulder, only to grimace as a flare of pain reminded me of my still-healing wounds. Ignoring it, I kept my stride steady, my eyes locked on the path ahead. The monastery wasn't far.
"Heathen."
A sharp voice to my right made me pause. Ela stopped beside me as I turned, my eyes settling on a familiar face. The Sister. I hadn't caught her name before, but I remembered her from the monastery.
She clutched a small book to her chest—a children's book, by the looks of it. Her posture was stiff, but her eyes weren't entirely hostile. She was heading toward the monastery, where children sprawled across the garden, waiting eagerly for their story.
I tilted my head slightly. "I'm Valrik Hrafnson, friend," I said, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "Let's call each other by our names, huh?"
She hesitated before answering. "Hilda."
"Good to meet you properly, Hilda."
Her gaze flickered over me, scanning for something—perhaps a reason to call me trouble. "What are you doing here? I thought you were wounded. Priest John told me you were in bad shape."
I rolled my shoulder again, pushing past the ache. "He got me back on my feet, Sister. I'm here to show my gratitude. Not here to cause trouble."
"Mm." She didn't look convinced. "The innocents you saved from Ernest's men—they're here, if you wish to see them. We've given them shelter in a guesthouse near the monastery." She gestured toward a modest house in the distance.
I followed her gaze, but shook my head. "I wouldn't want that. But I'm glad they're safe."
She pressed her lips together. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," she muttered, then turned, making her way toward the garden. "Behave yourself in the city, Norse."
Ela scoffed the moment Hilda was out of earshot. "She's always like this. Don't take it personally."
I chuckled. "Oh, I won't. She's… something."
Ela tilted her head, studying me with a strange expression. "You're weird," she finally said. "You're ruthless in battle, but… wise and calm otherwise."
I glanced at her with a smirk. "I take after my father. My mother always said I look and act just like him."
She perked up at that. "Oh? Where is he now?"
"Dead," I answered bluntly. "He was a Jarl."
Ela's step faltered. "Oh… I—"
"I avenged him," I added, my tone neutral. "Killed the wolf that took him from me."
Ela's eyes widened. "You killed a wolf?"
"I even broke its jaw with my boot," I said, then shook my head, dismissing the memory before it could settle. "Let's not talk about that right now."
She quickly nodded. "Of course. Sure…"
We walked on, the city stretching out before us, shadows lengthening as we neared the monastery.