Free The Wizard And The Warlord by Elizabeth Boyer Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Boyer
couldn’t conjure fire.”
“Many of your so-called Ljosalfar can’t conjure flame,” Sigurd said. “A good many of them know scarcely any magic at all, except for the simple spells like those Rolfr does. I think Jotull is more correct than any of you like to think. He tells me that the Alfar of Bjarnhardr live in beautiful halls and possess a great deal of wealth. They don’t worry about attacking and destroying anyone, as Halfdane does, and they’re not required to hole themselves up in wretched places like Hrafnborg, where we live in suspicion and fear from day to day. Jotull says there’s no real reason for hiding, the other Alfar wouldn’t harm you if you did wish to abandon this windswept place and move to the lowlands. The exile seems to be voluntary on the part of Halfdane and the other outlaw chieftains hiding in these hills.“
Rolfr and Mikla looked at each other in dismay. Mikla spoke. “I can easily see how the situation might look that way to an outsider, and you are still an outsider, Siggi, although we don’t hold it against you. I’m not going to try changing your mind, but I hope you will at least remember that some things are not as they might appear. Just when you think you have the truth in your grasp, it suddenly changes to something else. You are now in the springtime of your friendship with Jotull, and everything looks best in spring, we all agree. But think of autumn and winter. I’ve never known Jotull to cultivate the association of any man, he’s far too haughty for that. I think he wants something from you, Sigurd. You’d better be sure you want to give it to him.”
Sigurd gazed reflectively at the loose flagstone in the floor, which, unknown to anyone except himself, harbored the carven box. “I think that Jotull only wants to help me make a respectable life for myself in your realm. Perhaps as his apprentice you wish he would regard you with the same good friendship.”
“No, no, I don’t want him for a friend,” Mikla said quickly. “I think I’d better leave before he gets suspicious and comes looking for me. The last thing I wish to say to you, Siggi, is to guard that rowdy power of yours, and never let anyone take it away from you. They won’t be doing you any favor, I promise you.”
Sigurd shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with such earnestness. “Oh, it’s nothing except an amusing nuisance. It doesn’t really trouble me that much, so perhaps I’ll just continue to live with it. Say, Mikla, if you’ve got the evening free, you ought to come to the hall and watch Rolfr lose something gambling. He lost his saddle last night, and if he doesn’t win it back, he’s going to get saddle sores from what he’s issued when he rides out again.”
Rolfr groaned. “I’d nearly forgotten. Come, what do you say, Mikla? It’ll be highly amusing, no doubt.”
Mikla shook his head. “Jotull doesn’t believe I have any time of my own to waste. I’ll see you tomorrow, Siggi. Remember what I’ve said.” With a last earnest scrutiny of Sigurd’s countenance, he took his leave.
Even Rolfr looked solemn, subdued perhaps by the seriousness of his friend Sigurd shrugged his shoulders and began to feel better the moment. Mikla was gone. He spent the remainder of the night gambling, or watching Rolfr gambling away more of his possessions. Before many hours had passed, he had almost forgotten Mikla’s peculiar warning and his admiration for Jotull remained unabated.
He had adjusted rather well to the Alfar schedule, which consisted of patrolling and socializing mainly at night and using the daytime for sleeping, when less vigilance for their night-prowling enemies was required. Thus it was that Sigurd was sound asleep when someone began pounding on the cellar door shortly after dawn, and no amount of ignoring would dissuade their unwelcome visitor.
“Go away!” Rolfr shouted angrily. “Can’t you see it’s broad daylight and everyone’s asleep?”
“Halfdane
“Many of your so-called Ljosalfar can’t conjure flame,” Sigurd said. “A good many of them know scarcely any magic at all, except for the simple spells like those Rolfr does. I think Jotull is more correct than any of you like to think. He tells me that the Alfar of Bjarnhardr live in beautiful halls and possess a great deal of wealth. They don’t worry about attacking and destroying anyone, as Halfdane does, and they’re not required to hole themselves up in wretched places like Hrafnborg, where we live in suspicion and fear from day to day. Jotull says there’s no real reason for hiding, the other Alfar wouldn’t harm you if you did wish to abandon this windswept place and move to the lowlands. The exile seems to be voluntary on the part of Halfdane and the other outlaw chieftains hiding in these hills.“
Rolfr and Mikla looked at each other in dismay. Mikla spoke. “I can easily see how the situation might look that way to an outsider, and you are still an outsider, Siggi, although we don’t hold it against you. I’m not going to try changing your mind, but I hope you will at least remember that some things are not as they might appear. Just when you think you have the truth in your grasp, it suddenly changes to something else. You are now in the springtime of your friendship with Jotull, and everything looks best in spring, we all agree. But think of autumn and winter. I’ve never known Jotull to cultivate the association of any man, he’s far too haughty for that. I think he wants something from you, Sigurd. You’d better be sure you want to give it to him.”
Sigurd gazed reflectively at the loose flagstone in the floor, which, unknown to anyone except himself, harbored the carven box. “I think that Jotull only wants to help me make a respectable life for myself in your realm. Perhaps as his apprentice you wish he would regard you with the same good friendship.”
“No, no, I don’t want him for a friend,” Mikla said quickly. “I think I’d better leave before he gets suspicious and comes looking for me. The last thing I wish to say to you, Siggi, is to guard that rowdy power of yours, and never let anyone take it away from you. They won’t be doing you any favor, I promise you.”
Sigurd shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with such earnestness. “Oh, it’s nothing except an amusing nuisance. It doesn’t really trouble me that much, so perhaps I’ll just continue to live with it. Say, Mikla, if you’ve got the evening free, you ought to come to the hall and watch Rolfr lose something gambling. He lost his saddle last night, and if he doesn’t win it back, he’s going to get saddle sores from what he’s issued when he rides out again.”
Rolfr groaned. “I’d nearly forgotten. Come, what do you say, Mikla? It’ll be highly amusing, no doubt.”
Mikla shook his head. “Jotull doesn’t believe I have any time of my own to waste. I’ll see you tomorrow, Siggi. Remember what I’ve said.” With a last earnest scrutiny of Sigurd’s countenance, he took his leave.
Even Rolfr looked solemn, subdued perhaps by the seriousness of his friend Sigurd shrugged his shoulders and began to feel better the moment. Mikla was gone. He spent the remainder of the night gambling, or watching Rolfr gambling away more of his possessions. Before many hours had passed, he had almost forgotten Mikla’s peculiar warning and his admiration for Jotull remained unabated.
He had adjusted rather well to the Alfar schedule, which consisted of patrolling and socializing mainly at night and using the daytime for sleeping, when less vigilance for their night-prowling enemies was required. Thus it was that Sigurd was sound asleep when someone began pounding on the cellar door shortly after dawn, and no amount of ignoring would dissuade their unwelcome visitor.
“Go away!” Rolfr shouted angrily. “Can’t you see it’s broad daylight and everyone’s asleep?”
“Halfdane