Free Freya the Huntress (Europa #2: A Dark Fantasy) by Joseph Robert Lewis Page A

clumps and drips, leaving huge rocky bulges in some places and tiny sky-filled gaps in others. A handful of men stood on top of the wall, each one armed with a spear and sword, and the only breach in the inland wall was a single doorway, barely large enough for a horse to walk through, and that portal was sealed with an iron door as well.
    Freya marched down the road to the door with a wary eye on the armed men above her. They watched her approach, slowly clustering together in the center of the wall so they could all get a good look at the newcomers in the deepening shadows below. Wren hurried up to Freya’s side and muttered to her, “Lord Woden is ever a friend to those who tell the truth, but he’s also one to appreciate the art of not getting yourself killed.”
    “Meaning what?”
    “Meaning there’s no reason to tell these people more than they need to know about Katja.”
    Freya glanced back at the snoring woman on the back of the elk. “I think they’ll notice the hair and the ears, sooner or later.”
    “If that’s our choice to make, then I choose later .”
    The huntress nodded.
    “Who’s there?” called down a huge bear of man with a wild brown beard and naked scalp steaming in the cold sea air.
    “I’m Freya Nordasdottir of Logarven,” she answered. “My husband, Erik. Wren of Denveller. And my sister Katja, the vala of Logarven. Who are you?”
    The man smiled a broad white-toothed smile. “I’m the fellow on the wall asking the questions. What’s wrong with your sister?”
    “She’s hurt, and sick. We need shelter for the night.”
    “Oh? Just a night, is it? Planning to move on in the morning?”
    “We’re looking for a vala named Skadi, from Hengavik. Or any vala, really. Gudrun of Denveller sent us to speak to her.”
    The men on the wall talked among themselves for a moment before the bearded man called down, “What business do you have with the queen?”
    “Queen?” Wren frowned at Freya. “The vala is a queen? That’s not good.”
    “Valas have been known to marry. I suppose they can marry a king as easily as any other man,” the huntress said. She called up to the warriors, “We’ve come to learn about the reavers, which have destroyed Denveller and reached Logarven in the east. Gudrun said that Skadi could answer our questions.”
    “Where is Gudrun now? Still in Denveller?”
    “Gudrun’s dead,” Wren yelled. “No on lives in Denveller anymore. It’s as dead as Hengavik.”
    “And Logarven will join them soon unless we stop the reavers,” Freya added. “Can we come into the city?”
    The bearded man nodded. “Come to the door.” And he disappeared from view.
    “Well, that was easy,” Erik signed. “I’ll cover Katja. Maybe we can avoid an argument.” He unfolded a wool blanket and draped it over the sleeping woman, leaving only the dark brown hair at the top of her head uncovered.
    They approached the iron door in the great wall and a moment later they heard the bangs and clangs of steel beams being lifted away, and stones being rolled, and men grunting. The door swung inward halfway with a vicious squeal, and then stuck fast in the passage. The man behind it grunted and jerked and shoved until the door banged free and smashed into his toe, and he limped back from the open doorway muttering curses faster than Freya could hear them.
    The bearded man paused in the narrow stone passage, shaking his foot and shaking his head, but after a moment he straightened up and gave the newcomers a squinty-eyed look. “So then. I am Halfdan Grimsson, keeper of the gate and captain of the guard. Let’s have a look at you.” He waved them in.
    Freya and the others filed past the iron door and through the narrow passage and emerged onto the twilight streets of the city where a dozen men bearing steel spears and swords stood frowning at them.
    Halfdan waved them in away from the open door and then hunched down in front of Wren. “Show me your teeth,