Thirty Three
After all that Verdandi said, Iza says she is sure of only one thing – the Gods, for whatever reason, are incapable of acting.
"They have done what they could," she tells him that night as they clean up the make-shift ritual circle they built in front of the cave. Edvard hums in acknowledgement, listening intently as Iza continues. "Loki had a son and Skuld had a daughter, who was Thor-touched by lightning. Frigg speaks to us through Alise. Even the Norns answer our call…."
Edvard watches as Iza cranes her neck back, looking up at the heavy swell of the moon rising over the fjords. Basked in silver moonlight, she seems ethereal, a being not of this world. In a way, he supposes that she is. They both are.
"The Gods have done what they can," Iza repeats, a soft murmur that is carried to his ears by a gentle salt-and-smoke breeze. "And so the rest must fall onto those who are already playing their roles, both knowingly and unknowingly."
And, as for as Edvard can determine, for Iza that means staying vigilant to even the scantest whisper of a dragon attack. She institutes paroles among the riders, who are by now bonded well enough with their riders to be unsupervised. She often trails through the woods or stares up at the mountain where Nidhogg resides. She makes a habit of speaking to Alise about the possibility of attack so frequently that even Alise looks exasperated by it all.
But Edvard understands that intensity – the pressure that is on them, the pressure Verdandi spoke of through her riddling words, is one that is great. It is not any wonder, then, that Edvard takes to his vigilance in another way. Iza preoccupies herself with the dragons; Edvard preoccupies himself with the village.
He is, admittedly, in a good position to do so. After all, what training must Edvard do? He has long since mastered his seidr under Loki's impenetrable scrutiny and he has no dragon to familiarize himself with. Edvard has the time to gain knowledge of other things.
Foremost in his mind is why it took so long for the Raiders to return. Usually, the Raiders depart until mid-summer, where they return home with spoils and tales and are ready to help tend to the growing fields with the rest of the village. And yet, the Raiders did not return until the tail-end of summer. Why?
By Edvard's reckoning, the Raiders came home in good spirits, which indicates that they have been successful and had not run into any trouble. Indeed, even the haul of their spoils is much the same as it is any other year. On the surface, there does not seem to be much cause for why it took so long to return.
Edvard is convinced there is a reason, and so he investigates in his own way.
In the end, it does not take more than a few well-matched mugs of heady, sweet ale to have the Raiders talking. In the Great Hall during the evening meal, Edvard listens to the men speaking about the long, long journey the Chieftain and the Raiders had been on. "We found fertile land, unclaimed by any others," says one of the Raiders. He is answered by boisterous cheers and ale-drunk cajoling before he continues. "The land is unlike any I have seen before! Green! So much green, with rolling hills and great, vast flat lands, and lakes clear enough to see straight through-"
"Hot lakes, as well! Springs of heated water, even in the summer!"
"There were many animals – we did not go hungry as we explored-"
"And we did explore! The Chieftain was keen on this land! Yes, he was keen!"
"Said the land was untouched, he did. And aye, he was right! Not a house or a woman in sight!"
"We docked there, we did, for weeks and weeks until we were satisfied by what the land had to offer," says another. "And then we got on our boats to sail more, and what would you know? We found more land!"
"Aye!" agrees his friend, raising his bushy eyebrows as he continues. "Aye, but this land was not like the first. Cold, full of ice and snow!"
"Nearly as north as the first land, but the chill of this land – not even the fallow winter was so cold."
"Everything was frozen over! It was as if standing in Jotunheim itself!"
"Interesting," Edvard comments. "What then? Did you stay for as long?"
"Stay in that frozen wasteland! By Hel, no we did not! Why, we returned back to the first land to recover from the shock!"
One of the Raiders, perhaps less drunk than the others, leans forward with a conspiratorial whisper. "Aye, but our Chieftain is a crafty man. This was early in our journey, mind you, so we knew enough to know what to tell other Raiders we came across. Why, we spread a tale about a land as green as the gardens in Asgard itself – only we did not give them directions to the land of green, but to the land of ice!"
"And in fact, we did keep the way to this land of spring to ourselves. We made a map and only we know the way to find it."
Another raider laughs. "The Chieftain is clever, he is! He said, we must pray to Loki for some trickery, and aye we did! We did pray, and then what did you know? We came up for a name for these lands!"
"Greenland, for the land of ice!" says one Raider around a boisterous laugh. "And Iceland, for the land of green! And then we gave way for only Greenland, so that Iceland can be our own isle of spring!"
"Hail Loki, for the idea!"
"Praise the Chieftain, for his cunning!"
Another round of ale follows, and Edvard sits back thoughtfully. A new land? He wonders if finding it was an accident, or if perhaps Loki had a hand in it. Knowing what he does about how the Gods seem to be interfering indirectly with the present fate, he would not be surprised to learn that his father, for whatever reason, guided the Raiders to this new fertile land just as he guided the Raiders to misnaming the land.
Edvard thinks it is somewhat suspicions than a man as blunt as the Chieftain would come up with something so crafty by himself. To be so misleading is something the Chieftain would feel is without honor.
Loki, however, has a different sort of honor. Edvard would not be surprised if, for a while, the Chieftain had been replaced by the trickster himself, just long enough to sow this bit of trickery about the land. In fact, it seems like something only Loki could come up with.
He says as much to Iza, much later when she is bent over her Eddas in the light of a candle, still searching for hints and clues. She looks up at him then, the dual-tone of her eyes catching him off-guard in their keenness, as they always do. Iza tucks loose hair behind her ear, pouts her lips together, and then sighs.
"Iceland and Greenland, but Iceland is green and Greenland is ice? Yes, that does sound like Loki," she agrees. She frowns. "But…why? Loki does nothing without a reason."
Yes, that much Edvard knows. Still, he shrugs. His father's motivations have always been well beyond his comprehension. Edvard is not wholly convinced his father is not insane, even if he is a God.
"Unless…"
Edvard looks at Iza's striken expression and leans forward, cupping her chin so that her beloved gaze will look upon him instead of whatever internal turmoil her thoughts have led her to. "Unless what?"
"Unless this is the Gods indirectly interfering again," she says slowly. "Unless this is meant to secure a haven for us, should something with Nidhogg go terribly, catastrophically bad…Unless this so-called Iceland is meant to be our saving grace from whatever happens next…"
A shiver lances down Edvard's spine.
His Izabela is intelligent. She has an agile mind that is quick to draw conclusions and quicker still to think of things that no one else would consider. And even more, she shares the blood of a Norn who resides over the future and thus possesses a type of instinct that cannot be named.
If she has reached such a conclusion, then Edvard can only see her wisdom and agree. Although it may be conjecture, the sheer fact that this is possibly true is enough to give Edvard a healthy dose of wariness, the likes of which he has never felt before.
Before, battle with the dragons and unchaining Nidhogg, whatever that might mean, has been a nebulous thought. It would happen and it would be violent, but it was not something he considered as urgent or even particularly dangerous. To his mind, there is no reason why they would not be the victors and then be able to return to their normal lives, with the exception of his courting of Iza.
But if securing new land, if finding a new place to live, is indeed the work of a helping hand from the Gods, then that could only mean that their home is in far graver jeopardy then he ever imagined.
Edvard takes Iza's small, delicate hand into his own, then raises her palm to his lips, heedless of the ink smeared across her fingertips. He meets her gaze as he kisses her palm twice, eager for the tense pinch of her brows to relax, if even for a moment. "I will find out more about this Iceland," he vows. "And then we can plan for this possibility, too."
Relief washes over Iza's pretty features, and internally Edvard makes another oath. I will help ease your burden as much as I can, my beloved.
A/N: Ah, I figured Edvard needed to talk about some things. He's so cute with his loyalty and his leeriness of Loki! Just adorable.
Viking Things This Chapter! YES! The Vikings were in fact responsible for that sly mix-up between Iceland and Greenland. Now, in the real world, the first people to find Iceland actually settled there and then sent word back to Norway to mislead others. As to who is specifically responsible for this bit of mischief? Some say Lief Erikson, some say random Vikings, some say the story is just that - a story. For this story, I'm going with Loki definitely body-swapped the Chieftain for just long enough to create some mass confusion and secure this nice piece of land for his son and his bride. Nice, huh? What a thoughtful father!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~Rae