The Hills of Home (The Song of the Ash Tree Book 2) Read online

  They would have searched for him. And they would not have moved on until all hope of finding him was lost. Vakre would have made sure of that. After being certain he was not lying dead at the bottom of a ravine, they would have searched for a trail, but Raef felt in his heart that there was none to find. At best, they might have found his knife, the one he had drawn to defend himself, if the attacker had not retrieved it from the snow. Blame would fall on Brandulf Hammerling, for he above all would wish Raef harm, and Eira would swear bloody vengeance against the lord of Finngale and would-be king. Vakre would maintain an outward calm and counsel patience while an inner fury burned bright. Siv might think of Fengar and wonder if the other king had a hand in Raef’s disappearance. But all this would avail them little. Raef knew if the Hammerling or Fengar had captured him in the night, his blood would be staining the snow on that hill in Axsellund and his head would sit atop a spike. His attacker had left him alive and taken great pains to put him on a ship.

  Weary of these thoughts, Raef turned his attention to his stomach. Across the stream, a bush heavy with red berries caught his eye. It was unfamiliar to him but the lush berries, gleaming in the morning rain, promised sweet satisfaction. Raef waded through the knee-deep water, plucked one from the bush, and held it close to his nose. The scent of it was rich and heady. Raef’s stomach rumbled and he ached to crush a handful with his tongue. But he did not intend to die on this strange shore and a red berry was just as likely to bring death as relief. The ferns would have to do.

  The young fronds, curled still against their larger siblings, were bitter but safe. Raef ate slowly, chewing well to avoid upsetting his stomach. The raw greens made a poor meal, but until Raef could find meat, they would provide vital energy. Though his stomach demanded more, he ate only four. After a brief rest, Raef felt strong enough to explore his surroundings.

  The morning rain had ceased and the sun emerged from behind thin clouds to shatter the grey light. The raindrops on the ferns sparkled like gems and with the new brilliance came the sounds of forest life. Birds chattered, hidden away in the foliage, and a rabbit, startled by Raef’s intruding feet, bounded away, passing within a spear’s length. Even had he been prepared with an arrow, Raef could not have made the kill. But the sight of birds and small game was encouraging.

  Raef pushed inland. The ground began to slope upward and the trees grew taller and thicker there. Raef kept to the flattest ground he could find to preserve his strength, but a fallen tree, its dead trunk resting against its neighbor, provided an opportunity to reach a vantage point without a long uphill trek. Scrambling up the trunk until he reached the limbs of the living tree, Raef sagged against a thick, sturdy branch and waited for the dizziness to abate. The pain in his ribs stirred, flaming to life and making it difficult to breath, but Raef pushed it away and climbed higher until the branches would no longer support him.

  It was not a great height, but it was enough to show where he had come from and what lay ahead. The sun had risen above the forest, not the beach, so Raef knew he had made landfall from the west. The stretch of sand was visible behind him, but ahead the trees grew too close together to see much of the land. And yet, from that height the sound of a waterfall came to him.

  For a giddy moment Raef thought of the waterfall in Axsellund and if he just hurried down from his perch, he would find Vakre and the rest gathered around its pool. So strong was the feeling that Raef, leaning out in a mad attempt to hear the voices of his friends, nearly slipped down the rough trunk. He caught himself in time, grabbing a nearby branch to steady himself. Still the feeling lingered and Raef had to close his eyes to shut it out, or he knew he would tumble to the ground.

  When he opened them, the madness had passed and Raef, after surveying the scene one last time, descended from the tree. On the ground, the sound of water was faint but knowing it was there allowed Raef to follow it. Again, a rabbit crossed his path and Raef reached for the knife that wasn’t there. His stomach rumbled and he plucked another curled frond from the closest fern to appease it.

  Not long after, the waterfall came into view. Narrow like a knife, it tumbled down into a shallow pool surrounded on three sides by rocky cliffs twice the height of a man. On one side, a recess in the rocks offered respite from sun and rain. Raef examined it closer and found it dry and larger than expected. With fresh water so close and abundant, it would make a fine shelter.

  The sun had warmed the forest and Raef removed his boots and the thick layers of wool and leather he had worn to protect against the snow and winter winds and tucked them into a corner of his small cave. Inspired by the sunlight and perhaps with a faint thought of Eira in his mind, Raef continued to strip from his linen shirt and wool pants until he stood naked at the edge of the pool. He waded in and then submerged himself, lingering just beneath the surface for a moment before rising and floating, arms and legs spread wide. His silver arm rings, one on each wrist, glittered. He closed his eyes, feeling peace for the first time since arriving on this strange shore. The sun warmed him from above and the water revived him from below.

  How much time passed, Raef was not certain, but when he opened his eyes, the sun was higher and the skin of his fingertips had begun to wrinkle. Rising, Raef pulled his shirt into the water and rubbed it between his hands until it seemed cleaner. Then he spread it on a rock to dry and did the same with his body. He did not doze, did not let his mind drift. He was alert in a way he had not been since first awakening on the ship. He had evaded the threat of imminent death, but that was no longer enough. It was time to take further action.

  By the time the sun’s rays had dried his skin, Raef was ready to get to work. The hunger gnawed at him, but he did not allow it to take hold. After drinking his fill from the pool, Raef pulled on his pants, fastened the worn belt, and slipped his boots on, then retraced his steps to the place where the second rabbit had crossed his path. From there, he methodically surveyed the land, walking in increasingly large circles and taking note of every torn leaf, every pile of scat, every track in the dirt. After a time, Raef ceased to walk and instead climbed again into a tree, where he settled in to watch the forest floor below.

  The sun had traveled nearly a quarter of the sky before he descended from his leafy hideout but his patience would be rewarded. Rabbits were far from scarce and he now knew what paths they liked to tread. Raef suspected several burrows lay just north of his position among a grouping of boulders and dense bushes. His own pool was the closest source of water and he had detected two distinct paths between the dens and the waterfall.

  It had been several years since Raef had constructed a snare from scratch, but he had done it so often under his father’s watchful eye that he felt it had been no time at all. Milkweed and elm bark to fashion the noose, a sturdy sapling to hold it, and a twig, set just so to keep the loop open. Raef made three nooses and positioned them with care on the rabbit runs. By the time he finished, the sun was sinking and Raef resigned himself to a hungry night. The snares required patience. As he returned to the pool, collecting supplies to build a fire and more curled ferns, Raef came across a patch of mushrooms nestled beside a fallen log. Some were foreign to him, but others, to his relief, were the same he had foraged for in the forests of Vannheim. Using a large frond as a basket, Raef gathered all the mushrooms he knew were safe and returned to his waterfall.

  In the growing dusk, Raef set to work creating his instruments of fire. So intent was he on his work that a deer approached the pool and began to drink before he took notice. She watched him and Raef made no move to frighten her. Perhaps he would build a bigger snare in the morning. When the tools were complete and the first spark blossomed in the darkness, Raef smiled and dropped the ember into the carefully formed tinder nest. Bringing his face close, Raef blew gently until the ember grew and engulfed the tinder in small flames. Soon the kindling began to crackle and the light of the fire sent shadows dancing across the waterfall’s pool.

  Raef speared several curled fronds
and held them over the flames until each was charred on the outside. The taste mellowed with the heat, making the ferns more palatable, but the mushrooms were a welcome change. When the moon was high in the sky, Raef checked his snares. All were empty, but he had not really expected more. Morning would tell if he had positioned them well.

  Sleep came in fits that night, for though Raef was weary and had expelled precious energy that day, his hunger was a beast that woke him often. He lay awake listening to the sounds of the forest compete with the waterfall. An owl was close and something larger than a rabbit stirred the underbrush more than once. The fire had burned low and Raef did not bother to keep it up, but he wondered what he might do to protect himself should something with teeth and a taste for flesh come prowling too close. Several sturdy branches were close at hand. He stirred the coals enough to send up a shower of sparks and hoped that the smell of man and fire would keep any curious predators at bay.

  When Raef stirred before dawn, he knew he would not sleep again. The promise of meat beckoned, and he rose to check the snares. At the first, the rabbit had broken its neck and lay still on the earth. Raef disengaged it, reset the snare, and moved on. The second rabbit was not so lucky. It squirmed at his approach and Raef could see its pulse beat under its fur. Grasping it carefully to keep his fingers out of reach of desperate teeth, Raef ended its suffering with a quick twist to the neck. The third was the same.

  The fire grew quickly and though it was easier to skin rabbits with the aid of a knife, it was not long before Raef had pulled the skins from the meat and gutted the small bodies. Skewered and set over the fire, the smell of cooking meat made Raef salivate. But he remained patient, knowing that undercooked meat could upset his underfed stomach. He judged them ready when the exterior had grown black and crispy. The first bite burned his tongue, so hot he nearly spit it out, but the taste of the meat was sweeter than any mead Raef had drunk and he chewed with abandon, finally giving in to the hunger he had held at bay since awakening on the beach.

  The pile of bones at Raef’s feet grew until he stripped the last bit of flesh from the third rabbit’s leg. Thirsty now, Raef gulped down handfuls of water from the pool and then leaned back against the cliff wall. The sun was warm on his bare chest and the sleep that had evaded him that night crept back like a shadow stealing across his mind. Raef let his eyes close. There was much to do, questions that needed answering, but for the moment he let himself be content with no longer feeling hungry.

  If he slept, he did not know, but a shadow that was not sleep came between him and the sun. Raef opened his eyes.

  The silhouette above him was lithe and lean and that of a man. At first, the brilliant sun that threatened to spill out from behind his head masked his features, but as Raef’s eyes adjusted he saw a pair of pale grey eyes in a bronze, sun-browned face. He blinked, drowsy from sun and food.

  “You are a man.” It was not a question but there was curiosity there. His voice was low and cool. Raef said nothing. “And a warrior.” He leaned down and stretched out an arm until he could touch the fresh scar that ran down from Raef’s left shoulder and then the burned scar across Raef’s right side. Raef flinched and knew he should back away from the stranger, but his arms were heavy at his sides. The nearly colorless eyes drifted to the rings on both of Raef’s arms and then his fingers slid up to Raef’s ribs. There was no mark there, Raef knew, but he found the damaged bones with ease. “You have pain here.” He withdrew his hand and pushed back the long, pale hair that had fallen over his shoulder. “You should sleep.” And Raef did.

  When he awoke, the stranger was gone and for a time Raef was not certain he had not dreamed of the visit. Though he had a man’s shape, his hair, skin, and eyes marked him as something other than what Raef knew, something from the stories he had learned as a child. Raef shook that from his mind. He had a hill to climb.

  As Raef reached the top of the hill that fed his waterfall, he discovered it was a false summit. A much higher, rockier peak reared above and to the south, but the distance Raef had traveled was enough, for the view below him revealed much. His ribs had protested the entire climb and he knew he could not have gone much further. Sinking down on the rocky earth, Raef studied the land.

  The world was green and full of life, a world on the brink between spring and summer. A pair of narrow lakes hiding between steep hills to the east sparkled in the sun. Beyond, more hills, more trees. To the south, the peaks grew more rugged, though none were true mountains, and tall, thick-trunked trees dominated their slopes. Their bark was dark, nearly black and Raef was sure each leaf stretched across a distance greater than his height. A flurry of wings drew Raef’s gaze in time to see a flock of birds emerge from the hillside below him. Up, up they rose, pumping their wings hard and fast until they reached a draft of air. Then they soared up the hillside, sweeping higher, silent now, a rush of orange, black, and sharp beaks. They passed over Raef’s head and disappeared down the western slope, a final confirmation of what Raef’s heart had already known. The unfamiliar birds, the peculiar trees, the green land when it should be winter. And above all, the stars whose names he did not know and the bronze-skinned stranger. He had crossed the boundary of Midgard. He knew not how or which of the nine worlds he now gazed upon, but he knew he had left the world of men.

  FOUR

  Raef took a deep breath and let it out. He felt his heart begin to beat as fast and hard as the birds had pumped their wings, but he forced away the panic, knowing he could not let it wash over him. It was not like the anticipation of battle. That would be welcome. The tingling skin on the back of his neck, the surge through his muscles, the battle-roar that worked its way up from deep within, an echo of his ancestors. These things he knew, these things were ingrained. And though battle was a promise of blood and death, there was no fear for Raef. But this was different.

  There was no enemy here, no screaming warrior worthy of his wrath, no sword, even, with which to show his strength. He was alone and his opponent was the unknown. Raef’s mind raced with the stories of the nine worlds. Fire, ice. Treacherous giants burning with hatred for the gods. Secretive alfar, both dark and light. No safe place for man.

  A clear thought penetrated the tumult of his mind and held the creeping fear at bay. It came on the wind of his father’s voice. “There is still a sun in the sky and earth beneath your feet, Raef.” Raef closed his eyes and he was on a jagged cliff in Vannheim. Above, his father waited, his expectant face peering down from the safety of the summit. Below, the world dropped away into a deep, dark fjord and Raef’s arms were beginning to tremble with exhaustion from the climb. He heard his younger self, a boy of nine, protest that it was impossible, that he would surely fall, that he could not do it. His father had not smiled, had not insisted the way was easy and that Raef would do it. At the time, Raef had seen only sternness in his father’s features. He recognized now that fear had been there as well, that Einarr had not been certain his son would survive the challenging climb.

  “Look around you, Raef. This is the world and it is often harsh. You will be a warrior of Vannheim and then its lord. There is no easy path for you. You must learn to survive. And then you must learn to flourish.”

  Raef had conquered the cliff that day and the exhilaration of feeling so close to the sun and knowing he alone had put himself there had stayed with him. As he grew in years and strength, the cliff became an old friend and a tangible reminder of what he was capable of.

  His father’s voice died away and Raef opened his eyes. He touched the Thor hammer around his neck. Though his heart still thrummed in his chest, there was something other than fear driving it. Perhaps this was not so very different from a battle after all. He knew not what lay ahead, but there on that hilltop, Raef made a vow, to himself, to the gods, to his father. Let the gods be his witness, he would find his way home.

  The shadow came from above, spiraling out of the blue until darkness fell across the sun. Raef turned, an instant too late, and was th
rown back to the earth. He sprawled face down in the dirt, his chest riven with pain. Raef clutched his ribs and struggled to rise and face his attacker, but his pain turned to astonishment.

  The creature that stared down at him seemed to Raef as painted wood made flesh. Bright, pulsing eyes the color of a sunset arrested any movement Raef might make. Hot breath blew from narrow nostrils and a slender tongue snaked out from between sharp teeth. It was a familiar face, for it and its kind adorned the prow of every Vannheim ship.

  The beast held Raef’s gaze for a long moment then folded its immense wings into its body. It was only then that Raef noticed the rider on its back.

  “You are not afraid.” The rider was as Raef remembered, only now Raef could see his pale hair was twisted behind his head and streaked through with many shades of blue. He rode tall, unaided by saddle or harness, his head held high.

  “I never thought to see a dragon.”

  “There are no longer dragons in this world or any other.” He smiled a little at Raef’s confusion. “What you and your kind carve in your ships is a memory, nothing more.”