“Brother,” Mord said to him, worry in his eyes.
“He’ll live,” white-hair said. “Those pale spiders like their meat alive, just not kicking. Now,” he said, taking the tongs that had been heating in the fire and walking towards Lif. “I can burn the ice from your veins, if you like.” He held the tongs close to Lif, heat rippling in waves, then looked at Mord.
“So, who are you?” he asked Mord.
“Fishermen,” Mord said, still groggy.
“A-ha,” white-hair laughed, “so, the same question asked twice, with two different answers. Which is it? Fishermen, or traders?” He looked from Mord to Orka. “I think I’ll take this one’s eye, just to convince you I’m serious. And then I’ll ask you again: Who are you and why are you here?”
He moved the tongs towards Lif’s face, who pressed himself into the wall, whimpering through his chattering teeth.
Mord yelled and thrashed in his bonds.
“Drekr,” Orka said.
White-hair stopped and stared at Orka. Frowned.
“I’m hunting a man named Drekr,” Orka said. “He stole my son, and I want him back. I was told Drekr was coming here.”
A look passed between white-hair and the other guards.
The Galdurman sat up straighter.
“Never heard of no Drekr,” the white-haired man said.
“I heard a child cry out in the courtyard,” Orka said.
“Just one of Rog’s brats,” broken-nose blurted, too quickly, Orka thought and she saw his eyes flicker to the Galdurman.
“Drekr,” Orka repeated. “I tracked him to Darl, and then from Darl to here. My informer told me he trades in Tainted children, and that they pass through the Grimholt.”
“Shut up,” white hair snarled at her. “Shut her up,” he said, and the man with the rolled-up sleeves lifted a hammer from the table and walked towards Orka.
“I saw Drekr in an inn in Darl,” Orka continued, staring only at the Galdurman, now. “The Dead Drengr. He was meeting with Hakon Helkasson.”
The bald man raised his hammer.
“Hold,” the Galdurman said, and the hammer hovered in the air. “Skapti?” the Galdurman said, standing and frowning at the white-haired man.
“Don’t know what she’s talking about, Lord Skalk,” Skapti said, though he could not hold the Galdurman’s gaze.
“You fought at Svelgarth, did you not?” Skalk said to Skapti.
“Aye, lord. With distinction. Was awarded this for my bravery,” he said, gesturing to a silver arm ring around his wrist.
“Who gave it to you? Who led your warband?”
Skapti looked away, at the other guards in the room.
“Prince Hakon,” he said.
A silence fell in the room: heavy. Broken-nose shifted, taking the weight of his long-axe.
Skalk saw. “Try anything foolish, and I will burn the flesh from your bones,” he growled at broken-nose. The warrior held his gaze a moment, shuffled his feet, then looked away. “Now,” Skalk said to Skapti, “tell me: What is Hakon up to behind his mother’s back?”
Another silence, then Skapti sucked in a deep breath.
“We just let Drekr bring his… goods here. Sometimes he… stores them here awhile, sometimes they go west, sometimes north. Orders from the prince were that we are supposed to let Drekr do as he pleases.”
“Hhmmm.” Skalk tugged on his blond beard, frowning.
“Is my son here?” Orka growled. She felt the need for him deep in her bones, the possibility that he was close stirring her blood like heat boils water.
“Shut up,” Skapti snarled at Orka.
The sound of shouts came from outside, the drum of hooves passing through the gates. Voices in the courtyard. Haga limped to the window and peered out.
“Riders,” she said. “Drengrs, some with Helka’s eagle.”
“Bring them up,” Skalk said, and a warrior close to the door left.
Orka knew who it was in the courtyard, or guessed who it was. She tested her bonds, the rope thick and tight about her wrists. If she stood on her toes, she could reach the knot with her teeth.
“Be still, bitch,” broken-nose said to her.
Footsteps sounded in the hall below, thudding up the stairs, and the door opened, the warrior who had left leading them. Behind him strode a drengr, a young man in mail with a sword at his hip, dark-haired with a pointed, dripping nose.
Mord made a sound in his throat: a growling snarl.
“Guevarr,” Orka muttered. Arild stood in the doorway behind him, more drengrs behind her.