Daughter of the Witcher Ch. 07

Then she was back and reaching for something on the table.

Here, "she said, holding up a leather thong, "would you please help me?"

Gunnar nodded as he took the article, "What is this?" he asked, "I feel something coming from it."

"It belonged to my mother, "Nadya smiled, "I am coming to learn a little of your ways; yours and your son's. It is little wonder to me that you might feel this. We are different, and yet we all seek to use what we know of. That is why I asked you at our evening meal if you would honor me by tying these things on for me."

She bent her head forward and held her mane out of the way while he tied it around her neck. It was on a long enough thong of leather to have been tied and then slipped over her head, but Nadya had asked that he tie it on the first time.

It was little more than a golden-colored metal crescent tied into a thong of leather that Gunnar had given her for it and a few other things.

"Some protection to me, though I do not think that I will have the need of it from the ones that Margit told of," she said with a smile as she leaned back again in her chair. "This and the others come to me from my mother. I did not wear them, fearing that I might lose them. Also, what I had become in order to live caused me shame."

She stood up then and held out her arm to him and he began to tie on another thong over her bicep, "Now I see myself as needing them in a way, now that I feel as though I am ready to claim my poor inheritance."

She smiled a little wider then, "The richness or poorness of it all matters nothing to me. I seek now to become what I was made as. I doubt that I will be as much of one as my mother was, but I may be the only one left of my kind, from what Natan has said to me. By the time that the fortress was finished, my mother was the only one of her sort here. She is dead now seven years and I take up the mantle only this night because ..." Nadya appeared to be struggling with something in her thoughts, but it finally came out of her.

"What I am," she said, "That is to say, what I am in the generations of my mother's family, can only come to one of us who is loved. I have only just begun with your son and Natan, but I know it when what I send them is returned to me. We must be loved by another at least once so that we know the peril of what the loss of that might be like.

I was loved once, but not in that way, so I could not come into my own until now -- though I know what the loss feels like very well."

She looked down at what Gunnar did, "This one is to make my arm strong and my strikes just -- if it ever comes to that."

He nodded, looking at her with a nod of admiration in his face. "I see that you are different from us, just as the rest of the Kurtadam are, but I also see something there in your pretty face which I saw in the face of another a very long time ago.

I took that one as my wife, knowing my luck when I saw it. I can see that my son knows his own luck."

Nadya looked up for a moment, "Thank you for those words, Gunnar."

He smiled a little and nodded.

He finished the final knot and Nadya sat down again, flexing her arm a little to get used to the leather. She picked up the long article on the table in front of her, running her hand lightly over the old and ornate markings of it.

"I have not had the strength to even lift this for a long time now," she said, "Well, not for long. I did as I was taught by my father and my mother, and I learned to use this long before I was big enough to really hold it.

My mother told me that this would be mine one day, but she did not say that the price for it would be her death.

I never wanted to touch it for a long time after, but when I thought that I might use it to rob people for food, I just could not. My childhood was filled with tales of my mother's kind doing what was right, not stealing or threatening anyone.

She shrugged a little, "The times have changed, and now I think that I need it.

Thank you for what you did to clean it for me. I had nothing but my palms to try to rub the beginnings of the rust from it, and doing that only caused more to come."

"My pleasure," the witcher smiled at her, "I have not seen one like that before. You should know that what was there was not rust. Rust is something which takes hold on iron and steel and it is helped by moisture and disuse.

What was there was tarnish of a sort which attacks silver. That can be hard to rub off, but you did the right thing, for the rust would have come if you had not. There is silver there in the blade, though it is in thin bands along the edge, but not in it. The rest is a mixture of more steel than silver, for silver alone is a weak metal."

Nadya drew the long and slightly curved blade from its scabbard. She'd had a hope that he could have maybe gotten off what she'd tried for so long to do and only staved off.

But her pleased gasp came to her as she saw the thing gleam in the air as she held it up a little.

"Thank you, Gunnar. I never thought to see it like this again.

There remains only one thing which must be done to claim what is mine from my mother. This was her sword, but it is not mine just yet in our old ways.

There is a man who caused me much pain in the town below, "she said, "To me, he is not worth more than my quick vengeance and even a single thought afterwards."

She held up her blade once again, feeling the quiver of it in her hand. That quiver told her that the blade still lived, coming to her thin hand at last down through many generations of her kind. She knew what it was.

The old blade was thirsty, eager to belong to one of her family once more.

"Koten tells me that you know much magic of the sort to work metal into something harder and yet with a little give to the whole," she said, "though I do not know if you have ever heard of something such as this. There were never very many of us, what my mother was. There was a reason for it.

One of us must know the way of things and most importantly, the way of the sword. There were only ever less than a hundred of these blades, since they were wrought by an old one long ago. He made them from the metal of a star which fell to earth one night outside of his home. There was ruin all around from the crash, but his home and his family were spared.

When it had cooled, days later, he began to make them and it was mostly ones from his family who wielded them. The work of it lasted for most of the rest of his life."

She turned it over with an easy flick of her wrist in an overhand motion and the blade sang from it. She gave it a last smiling look before she slapped it into the scabbard again and set it down onto the table.

"I do not know if there are any others of my mother's kind left alive anymore. It takes little thought to know that anyone who knew of them as warriors also knew that the only thing to do was to throw as many fighters against them as it might take to see them all dead, no matter how many one lost to do it."

Nadya looked over at Gunnar, "So it is my assumption that I am all that is left -- and my blood is not pure. But just now, I knew it as the blade told me that I am pure enough.

To claim what is to be mine by right of my poor birth, someone must die so that the blade feels the blood against it. In a little time, when I have some more of my strength returned to me and I have spent enough time to re-learn the blade's lessons to me, I will kill that man for what was done and to sate my blade's thirst."

She looked over a little uncertainly, "Or do I now begin to sound a little unwholesome to be the mate of your fine son to you? I can tell you that other than that one man, I have no wish to harm anyone."

Gunnar shook his head as a slow smile came to him.

"Ask my son to tell of some of the things that I have done sometime. I think it may be that you wonder about the unwholesomeness of his father then."

Koten groaned then and they looked over, "What is it?" Nadya asked, knowing what the purpose was to what he'd been doing while they'd talked.

"My sister," he said in a worried tone, "She and Annikki have some others with her now, friends I would have to say. The people there do not speak Danish, so I think that they are not in Iceland as they said they wished to be.

But there is one there who they know nothing of and that one leads many followers, well, they look to me to be little more than bandits and that one seeks to meet with Louhi.

She is some sort of witch herself," Koten said.

"Is Louhi in danger?" Gunnar asked and Koten could only hold up his palms as he shrugged a little.

"I cannot say with any surety," he said, "only that the other one seeks to set my sister a sort of a trap."

He stepped from the tall stool and Gunnar looked, peering searchingly while trying to keep his concern from guiding anything.

"I see her," he said, and then he leaned a little closer, "Who is the large one with her?"

Nadya saw only the smoke from where she stood, never having had the chance to learn of something like scrying. Her mother hadn't known of it either.

Whatever it was which came to Gunnar, it seemed to come to his eyes much more quickly than it came to Koten's.

He sat back for a moment, thinking and then the source of the smoke was extinguished and what was left dissipated as he turned.

"Much has changed for our Louhi," he said.

"I saw the other one and you were correct. That one does set a trap, but she does it more desperately now than she'd planned it.

Louhi holds her male lover and knows of what was planned.

Also, ..." he looked off into the air for a moment with a sort of small smile on his face. "Something else has happened. Our Louhi has taken a man, as has Annikki."

He smirked to himself then and let out a small laugh, "Neither one is what I would have expected. The one that Louhi has taken is a man with a foggy past." He looked up, "Not to her, she understands it, but to himself.

Annikki loves with a man who in a real way comes from the sea, though it was not all clear to me.

He stood up, "I must tell Margit. I have a little concern for her, but it seemed to me that Louhi has surprised the other one, this witch."

He bid them a goodnight and then Gunnar left.

Nadya put her arm around Koten and she stretched up to kiss him softly for a moment, "You never told me that you had a sister. What is she like?"

"She is a young female to what my father is," he said, "She has much more ability than I. He does what he can to hide it, but I know that she is his favorite and has always been. I do not mind it. He misses her as do we all. I am a little less worried now, since he seems to think that Louhi has what I saw in hand."

He looked into space for a moment over her shoulder and then he smiled with a shrug as he looked down.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Something that my father said," Koten grinned, "Louhi had trouble when we were younger with boys who only saw her as one thing. I do not know if it was the cause of it, but we were hated in the place where we lived by people who could spread that sort of thing very easily. They inflamed the rest and our home was attacked. Mother and I left the day before.

When we knew of what was done and that our friends were dead over it, Louhi and our father went back and killed many.

Somehow, she found Annikki there. They knew each other as children. They turned to lovers almost before my eyes and I could see that it was deep for them. I liked to see it because they needed each other and I knew Annikki too and I was glad that she lived.

Now Father says that both have taken men."

He looked down, "I now know something of the subject, I guess, but I did not think that something like THAT would ever happen.

Now I wish to meet those men. Annikki is as good as my adopted sister, so I want then both to be happy. I just cannot imagine men who could hold the interest of either one for much longer that one round in a bed."

Nadya nodded and then she showed a wicked little smile, "A round in a bed sounds very nice to me right now, Koten."

Natan woke up a little then, "Oh yes, "he said a little sleepily, "I need to be in a bed right now."

He tried to stretch, but found that he was feeling too lazy to manage the effort. "Why are you looking at me that way?" he asked, seeing their expressions.

"Oh," Nadya whispered with a soft groan, "Look at him. I want to just, ... "

"Me too," Koten chuckled, "Come with us to our room, Natan. Nadya and I have some sweet candy for you."

Natan smirked, "A fair try, but I am not that close to sleep that I cannot smell a trap."

"A trap!" Nadya grinned, "Why have I not thought of it?"

She pulled aside her garment, "Look pretty one, I have a sweet for you to nibble on. Come to bed with us?"

Natan was out of the chair and on his feet an instant later, "Why didn't you say so?"

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Gunnar walked through a section of the keep a little far from the area where he and his 'extended family' spent the majority of their time. The place was cool, though not cold, being far from an outside wall, and the rear of it was very near to the face of rock which the keep had been built against. It had been explored by them earlier, but at the time, they'd had no use for it, being more concerned over finding suitable quarters.

It was dark here with no outside lighting coming in through any openings and he raised the torch that he'd been carrying for a better look.

There were paintings on the walls and the ceiling was a high dome where more paintings ran over the inside of the hemispheric upper structure. None of them looked old, since the place itself wasn't. He looked around in the silence and nodded to himself.

There were a few benches here and there, and most of them lay overturned on their sides. It spoke to the time following the deaths of most of the remaining monks and the subsequent clearing out of many things which reminded the Kurtadam of their confinement at the hands of the holymen and the soldiers.

There was plenty of room here, he decided. It only needed to be swept out a little.

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"I have something to show you," Gunnar said to Nadya the next day, "Come and walk with me if you have a little time."

Nadya nodded and began to step over to where he stood.

"You might wish to bring your sword," he smiled.

She nodded again and ran to get her weapon.

"What is this place?" she asked as they walked along a few silent corridors.

"Only passageways here," he said, "This is the part of the keep where the monks dwelt and played at being observant holymen. It has always been my view that most of them; priests or monks of most kinds, play at a sort of game for the ones they wish to swindle. In the case of most monks, they play the game on themselves as well."

She looked up at him, "Swindle?"

"Yes," he nodded, "I have no better word. They perform all sorts of ceremonies, some of them full of pomp and regalia. The net effect is that the people give them gold and food for basically nothing. The people can pray to their god or gods just as effectively as the holymen, and yet these practitioners derive a living from the game."

He chuckled, "It has been going on for so long in so many ways and places that many of the charlatans actually believe in what they do. But that is not why we are here.

In this place, the monks performed rituals of some sort. Depending on your view, it might be seen as their deity failing them by not protecting them from the sickness. Those few who survived or had not become ill yet left, no doubt castigating themselves for not doing enough holy things to cause the deity to save them.

I take a different view," he smiled, "IF that deity really exists, and IF that deity was even aware of the plight of his or her servants here, then I like to think that the god or goddess actually did the right thing and CAUSED the sickness to finish this mess.

Ah, here we are," he said as they reached an opening into a pitch black open area.

He asked her to remain where she was and he carried his torch to another which he'd placed in a holder leaning out from the wall. After lighting that one, he continued on and lit three more at intervals of a quarter circle. Nadya stared at the place.

"This was the center of their foolishness," Gunnar smiled, "It means nothing to you or I. What it is, is a place for you to re-learn the lessons of your blade, as you said to me. I will use it also, for it is not as cold here as it is in the courtyard where I have been swinging my blade and stamping my feet to keep warm while I do it."

Nadya stood with her jaw open. "This -- this is actually quite beautiful in a way." She stepped over nearer to a wall and looked at a scene there. "What are these creatures?" she pointed.

Gunnar shrugged, "They are called angels. I have not seen any real ones yet, but then I have not been everywhere."

"And these? "she pointed.

"Something called chimera," he said, "A mythical beast very unlike you, Nadya. You change your whole body, though on you, I guess that some parts can change more than others. In a chimera -- and there are as many sorts as humans have the imagination to produce figments of -they are creatures which are always some of one thing and the rest of something else. A horned woman, for example, with the upper body of her kind and the hips, legs and clawed feet of a large hunting cat.

It is a false notion," he said, "for it can never be. In the case of Kurtadams, they are something which can look like what they are and something else also, but not at the same time.

Though you, I understand from what Koten has told me and from what I have seen, almost have a third way if you stop in the middle. Regardless, you are always SOMEthing, not some of this and a little of that.

Shall we begin -- rather carefully to start with, since I am an old man?"

Nadya began to smile in a slow way as she watched Gunnar remove his singlet to stand across the room for her as a powerful-looking warrior even still, his long hair having long ago completed the transition from almost-white to snow white. He drew his blade and stood ready, wearing only his breeches.

Nadya grinned, "I come to love the father of Koten very much as I come to love his mother -- and I see no old man in the room."

She drew her blade and set the ornate scabbard down, and with an overhand flourish to set her sword to humming, she began to dance in several quick feints as she advanced on him at a speed which startled the old witcher.

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"I am sorry," Nadya sniffled as she bound the slight cut on Gunnar's arm.

"Do not be sorry," he chuckled, "It all went as I had hoped and best of all, I still have my arm."

She stared at him, "What do you mean? I could have killed you."

He nodded, but he still grinned, "Yes, it might have happened that way, or I could have killed you instead. Thing such as this happen when one spars with live blades. I came to know what I sought to learn from it.

I learned that you do have much skill and I saw that the blade even enhances this, choosing a different angle from the one that you began the stroke at sometimes. I just do not understand the way that you have a shield at some moments and then it is gone when it is not needed -- and you can see through it while it is there.

I am pleased, Nadya, not angry. I did this for you, all of this.

I still live, and your blade had its taste of blood."

"But no one died," she said, "That is what must happen. But I felt it in the sword when it happened. The sound changed and grew quieter, though it quivered more in my hand afterward."

"Perhaps now you will not draw as much attention when you draw it out," he nodded.