Chapter 12
Out of the darkness and snow, Gerold watched the two men making their way toward him. He braced himself for battle, calling out, “Halt, come no further.”
The two stopped, and then Gerold heard laughter as one called out, “Is that anyway to greet an old friend?”
“I have no friends.”
“Come, come, don’t you recognize me?”
“Of course I do, Marcus, but...”
“I am your friend. We’ve been hunting you,” Marcus said as he moved forward.
“Yes, I know. I know you have been hunting me, but you won’t take me,” Gerold replied as he prepared to strike. “That is far enough, and don’t try to keep me busy while your partner gets behind me.”
“Gerold, we are not going to take you, or harm you. We want to help you,” Marcus responded, stopping his forward movement. “The other man is Peder.”
“So, you’ve teamed with the enemy. Am I that valuable?”
“Yes, valuable, but not in the way you believe,” Peder answered. “We need to talk, just talk.”
“Very well, talk,” Gerold responded.
“Could we go inside, out of the snow?” Marcus suggested.
Nodding his assent, the three made their way inside. Following, Gerold felt himself falling. To stop the fall, he reached out, and in that moment Marcus caught him, saying, “You’ve had a rough time. Here, let me help.”
Gerold wanted to fight back, but his strength was gone. Giving in, he allowed Marcus to help as Peder set about building a fire to light and warm the room. Once Marcus had him settled, the two told how, after a brief bit of swordplay, realized they were both after the same thing—finding both Annika and him. Marcus finished with, “We both have seen a terrible wrong done, and only together can we make it right.”
Gerold stared. After the past few days, all the memories, he was too tired. He just wanted to know what Peder’s connection to Annika was.
“Peder...” Gerold began.
Peder interrupted. “I see you have Gunvar’s blade. Since you are holding it, the sword must have a purpose for you. Only Annika, his daughter, has been able to wield it since I carried it to her after his death.”
“Then...” Gerold began.
“She is my charge, her safety has been and is my priority,” Peder continued, answering Gerold’s unasked question.
“Then Gunvar was her father?”
“Yes.”
That one word cleared the unanswered questions Gerold had, and made his heart beat quicker. Peder took the offered hand Gerold extended.
“She chose well,” Peder said, and eyeing the blade at Gerold’s side, “as did he.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Peder nodded, “How shall we proceed?”
Gerold paused before answering. With his returned memories came questions. Had Niketas, the man who’d raised him—along with Stephen, his own son—conspired to take what was Gerold’s? Gerold’s fingers curled around the blade’s hilt. According to Marcus and Peder, Stephen had taken Annika. He would be fighting for his life—and Annika’s, as well.
The return of memory carried with it a burden of guilt Gerold realized he must pay. He could blame Niketas and Stephen, but the fact remained, he had done the deeds. He’d killed so many out of revenge. Relaxing his hold on the blade, he stared at his hands. “I will do what I must,” he said to the blade.
“Still talking to yourself,” Marcus said, adding, “I’m glad you two know what you’re talking about, for I am clueless—and what is next?”
“Marcus, I thought I’d explained it to you.” Peder grinned.
“Marcus has had too many blows to the head. He never quite got the knack of sword and shield,” Gerold chuckled.
“Talk about me all you want but—” Marcus started.
“Enough. We have a friend to save, and plans to make,” Peder said.
Marcus grinned at Gerold, asking “Any idea which direction?”
Peder looked to Gerold, noticing the glazed, tired eyes, the slump to his shoulders.
“Well?” Marcus demanded.
“One night will not make any difference,” Peder soothed. “I suggest we rest and then make our plan, for we cannot travel in the dark.”
Gerold moved to the window, unwilling to stop despite his exhaustion. Through a break in the clouds, he noticed a bright star, much like the star that led to the Christ child. He smiled at the sign, remembering his mother’s stories of the miraculous birth. He’d trust the signs, he thought. Just like the cries of the ghost that led him to his memories.
“I know the way. We can leave at first light,” Gerold told the others.
• ♥ •
The next morning, Gerold turned toward the direction the star had pointed. He hesitated. What if he chose wrong? What would become of Annika? The blade pointed to a jay walking on the ground. Turning toward the others, Gerold pointed toward the east. “That way.” He followed the jay’s movements.
“As you say,” Peder replied. “We don’t want any barnacles growing on our feet.”
Marcus stared at the older man, confusion showing on his face.
“Barnacles grow on ships, Marcus.” Peder grinned.
“Doesn’t make sense, but lead on,” Marcus said, pulling his shield close, as he set out on an unexpected collision with Gerold, who was moving a bit slower.
Peder hid a smile at the antics of the two younger men. Gerold, with his black hair and bold stance, and Marcus, the clumsy friend.
Peder thought he should feel condescending toward the two, but instead, felt a comradeship, despite—or perhaps because of—their meetings as enemies on the field of battle.
Gerold took the lead. “May our journey be blessed and our direction true.”
“Agreed,” Marcus added as he and Peder followed.
Gerold’s steps grew more determined with each mile. The landscape familiar, the trail clearer. In his heart, he knew he would find Annika. The blade hummed its agreement, allowing Gerold use of its connection with Annika as his compass.