In one such darkness, Tauno and Eyjan walked along the riv-erbank. She had insisted that they have a real talk. He yielded, grudgingly, but said he felt too trapped between walls.
A glow above eastern peaks portended moonrise. Erelong it would be the harvest moon that lifted. Carl’s Wain loomed im-mense, as low as it glittered in the Dalmatian sky; higher blinked the Pole Star, to show Northern folk their way home. Frogs and crickets were silenced, only the purling stream had voice. Un-seasonable hoarfrost lay upon sere grass. Tauno felt it under his feet, for he had shucked his clothes once out of sight of Skradin.
Eyjan had not; hooded cloak and flowing gown did what they
were able to hide the fullness of her. /’
After a mile or two, she took the word: “Captain Asbern sought me out while I was in Shibenik. He warned that if Brynhild doesn’t start back soon, she’ll have to lie over till spring. Already there are few masters who’d embark on so long a voyage.”
“Yes, we knew that,” he replied.
“But did you, at least, think about it?” Eyjan paused, except
for her footfalls, before she continued. “I’ve learned about human ways of late, maybe more than you’ve condescended to do. It would be costly for Niels to have ship and crew a ye~ or more agone. And that wretched war-Father back at the siege of Zadar, where he could be killed without ever having seen you. . . . Well, I’ve been told our documents may not protect us from the Vene-tians. A commerce raider of theirs may decide the King of Den-mark and his bishops are too far off to be a threat. The later we depart, the worse our chances.”
“Why, then, we can let the ship sail,” he told her. “But what’s in Denmark for us?”
Alarm replied: “What’s for us here?” She caught his hand. They stopped in midstride. “Tauno, what is it that keeps you in the wildwood?”
He answered the first question. “Well, true, we found our kin and they’re merely another lot of mortals. You must indeed be weary of the lady’s role. So leave if you wish.”
She searched his countenance. It was visor-blank, though hers quivered. “Not you?”
“I think not yet. But go you, and give Ingeborg and Niels my greetings. “
“You promised you’d return to her for at least a while.”
“I will, I will, when the time is right,” he snapped.
“You’ve changed, Tauno-in a way, more than anyone else
from Liri.”
“Unless what I am now was ready within me, like a thaw in a frozen pond. Enough. I care not for chatter about myself.”
As he watched her, his mood softened. “Aye, do hail Ingeborg from me, if you return,” he said. “Tell her I’ve not forgotten loyalty, wise counsel, patient helpfulness, and, yes, how dear she was when we joined. I could wish it were in me to love a mortal woman as Father did Mother.” He sighed. “It isn’t.”
She looked away, but did not ask whom it was he could love.
“What of yourself, though?” he went on. “After you’ve spent
a few weeks or months with Niels, where will you go?”
She braced herself. “I may go no farther at all,” she said.
“Hoy?” he barked, astounded. After a minute: “Well, yes, his
leman while he remains young. I can see where that would be
pleasant. He’d leave you your freedom; and after he grows
old-“
“I would grow old with him.”
Stubbornly, against his stupefaction, she urged: “You should listen to Father. He’s right, the Faith is true, and we’re not con-demned, it’s just a matter of choosing to take what it promises. . . and Faerie is doomed, Tauno. . . . I wanted to be sure we two spoke together this night, because tomorrow I fare to Father Tomislav in his parish and pray him to tell me more. Won’t you come along?”
“No!” he roared, yanked loose from her grasp and made a fist
against Heaven. “Eyjan, you can’t mean that-“
“I’m not quite sure, but-“
“Crawling before a God Who twists and breaks what He made- At least Odin never claimed to be just.” Her own strength rose to straighten her back and level her gaze.