Agnar just stared at her. Kráka let out a sharp hiss.
“When you found us on Iskalt Island, we were there for a reason. As my husband fought the troll, I was casting the book into the pool of fire and speaking the words of unbinding. The Graskinna is gone.”
“I saw you,” Elvar breathed.
Uspa just looked at her.
“So, how did Ilska and her Raven-Feeders know of you and this Graskinna, and how did they know to come here after you?” Agnar asked Uspa.
“My husband and me, we stole the Graskinna from them. They have been hunting us a long while. You hunted us, too, because of the price put on our heads. Berak slew some of Ilska’s crew, and others as we fled her and her Raven-Feeders. He had to. And then, when you brought us here, I saw some of Ilska’s warriors outside that tavern. We all did. I tried to hide myself and Bjarn,” she shrugged. “But they must have seen me and told Ilska.” She looked at Elvar. “I kept telling you that I needed to leave Snakavik.”
“You did,” Elvar said, “but you failed to mention it was because you knew the way to fabled Oskutree, or that Ilska the Cruel and her Raven-Feeders were hunting you.”
Uspa shrugged. “I had to know that I could trust you, before I told you such things.”
Agnar sat back in his chair, puffing out his cheeks.
“I do not like it,” he muttered. “You are asking me to chase after Ilska the Cruel and her Raven-Feeders, find them, and steal back your son.” He shook his head. “Just the finding of them is task enough, and could take many months. Then there is taking your son back from them. That could be no easy thing. The Raven-Feeders, they have a reputation.”
“Is Agnar Battle-Grim afraid of Ilska and her Raven-Feeders?” Uspa said.
Agnar gave her a cold smile. “Do not try to provoke or manipulate me,” he said. “I am a practical man and am afraid of losing good warriors, yes. I am chief of the Battle-Grim; I am like a jarl to them. I am their gold-giver. I choose our course, the battles we fight, and, aye, death perches on our shoulders like an old raven and all in the Battle-Grim have made their peace with that, but I will not throw their lives away.” He tugged on the blond braid in his beard. “And all the while we are chasing Ilska, we are earning no coin or silver.”
“Coin is your god, then,” Uspa said, a sneer on her lips.
“Don’t be a fool, woman,” Agnar snapped. “Coin buys food and mead; we would starve without coin, and silver is a battle-won prize, a symbol of our battle-fame and reputation. Why do you think we wear rings of silver and gold? To make our mark on this world. What else is there?”
“With the finding of Oskutree your battle-fame would live for ever,” Uspa said.
“Then why did you burn the book?” Elvar asked.
“To stop fair-fame hungry fools like you from finding it,” Uspa snapped. “There are the remains of gods there. And other things.” She did not need to say any more. In her thought-cage Elvar was seeing the bones of Ulfrir and Berser, of Svin and Rotta and Hundur, their battle gear and treasures, and the weapons of their children. A silence settled on them, and Elvar saw the same thoughts in Agnar’s eyes.
“Vigrie is no peace-loving land, but if the way to Oskutree was made known, new powers would rise in this land, and most likely a new war with them,” Uspa said with a shiver. “Best that the way is shut and can never be found.”
“Then why show me the way?” Agnar breathed, the lure of power and riches heavy in his eyes.
“For my son,” Uspa said. “For love. When you weigh this life on the scales, you realise that is everything. The things you seek…” She shook her head.
Agnar leaned forward.
“I could put a thrall-collar on you and order you to show me the way, and save myself a lot of hard and dangerous work trying to get your son back.”
“I will die before I wear the thrall’s collar,” Uspa said. He eyes flickered to Kráka. “I mean you no insult, sister. Those of the Tainted who wear the collar, they still cling to life. It is part of being human. Survival. To bear hardship and trial, in the hope of it ending. But I do not care for my life. I care for my husband, whom I have lost, and I care for my son, who is taken. If you put the thrall-collar on me, then my life would be over, for I would never see my son again.” She shrugged. “That is no choice to me: better death. And you saw what I did to Ilska’s warriors. Do not doubt that I could take my own life, if I set my will to it.”