The conversation had become an argument, and the Out Island tongue they used had become so swift and guttural with anger that I could scarcely follow it. Peottre stepped back from the group and crossed his arms on his chest. He turned his head sideways and looked away from them, but as he did so, he clapped one hand loudly on his sword scabbard. It was not a gesture that would have been used in the Six Duchies, but its meaning was still plain to me. If anyone wished to argue further with him, they’d argue blade to blade. The circle of Hetgurd men turned their eyes away from him, plainly rejecting the challenge. Instead, they closed around Bloodblade, who gestured wide his helplessness and then flapped an arm at his daughter, shrugging as if to say that the ways of all women were beyond any man’s reasoning. That seemed to settle something.
The Hetgurd man with the bear tattoo stepped away from the others and advanced to the Narcheska. She did not look at him as he came though I am sure she was aware of him. Instead she looked out over the waters, past the ship to the horizon. The wind blew past her, stirring the edges of the hooded blue cloak she wore and tugging at her embroidered skirts. It lifted them enough to reveal her sealskin boots and the wool leggings tucked into them. She ignored the breeze’s liberty as easily as she ignored the waiting Bear. He cleared his throat, but was forced to speak before she turned to him.
‘Narcheska Elliania, I would have a word with you.’
Even when she turned to look at him, her look was the only acknowledgement she gave him. He accepted it as permission to speak to her. His words were clear and formal, and I think he intended that all should hear and understand them. The Owl drew closer to them as they spoke, probably to witness their words for posterity. Bards do not believe in privacy.
‘I am sure that you heard us speaking just now. But I shall state it plainly. Last night, we left out the offering for the Black Man, as is customary when visiting this place, for any reason. This morning it remained on the stone table, untouched. Long has it been said that no man can buy the Black Man’s approval with gifts, but when he takes them, he gives you permission to risk your life here. This morning, we knew that he did not even cede that much to us. Narcheska, we have come here with you, knowing already that the challenge you gave your suitor was inappropriate. You did not listen to us. Will you pay attention now to what the Black Man himself has shown us? We are not welcome here. Many of us expected him to be angry with you. We did not expect he would withhold his permission even from those who come to see that your challenge to the dragon is a fair one. You place not just your husband and yourself in danger, but all who are here. And should you achieve your end, we now fear that the displeasure of the gods will fall, not just on you, but on all who witness the deed.’
I saw her blink, and perhaps the colour in her cheeks heightened. Only her stillness proclaimed that she listened to him as she stared into the distance. He spoke on more quietly but his words carried clearly. ‘Withdraw the challenge, Narcheska. Replace it, if you wish, with one more fitting. Demand a whale’s spear from him, or the teeth of a bear, killed by him alone. Pit him against any creature that is right and proper for a man to hunt, but let us all leave this island and the dragon it protects. Icefyre is not for a man to kill, Narcheska. Not even for love of you.’
I thought he would convince her, right up to his last words. But they were uttered with such disdain that even I felt the sting of them. She did not turn her eyes toward him as she spoke. ‘My challenge stands.’ She spoke those words to the sea. But then she turned to face Dutiful and added, ‘Because it must. For the honour of Narwhal Clan.’
She spoke the last words almost as if they were an apology, as if she regretted them but had to say them anyway. Dutiful gave a single slow nod, an acceptance of the challenge and her assertion that it must stand. It was an act of faith between them, and I think I perceived then what Chade seemed to have known for some time; that if those two could learn to go in harness, they would be a powerful pair.
The Bear clenched his fists at his side, and thrust out his jaw. The Owl nodded jerkily to himself, as if to fix the moment in his memory.
The Narcheska turned to Peottre and said, ‘Should not we be preparing to leave now? It is a long and arduous journey, I am told, to where the dragon is under the ice.’
Peottre nodded gravely. ‘As soon as we have bidden your father farewell.’
To me, it sounded like a dismissal; yet Arkon Bloodblade did not seem insulted, but relieved. ‘We must sail with this tide,’ he agreed.
‘Witness!’ the Bear shouted angrily. All turned to his cry. ‘Witness that if we die here, we who have come at the Hetgurd’s request, witness that if we die here, then Clan Narwhal and Clan Boar owe our mothershouses blood-gold. For we are not here by our choice, nor do we seek this conflict. If we fall to the gods’ displeasure, then do not let our families cry in vain for justice.’
A silence fell after his words. Then, ‘Witness,’ Peottre conceded gruffly, and ‘Witness,’ Arkon Bloodblade echoed him.
I sensed an Out Island custom with which I was not familiar. Chade seemed aware of my confusion. I felt his uneasiness as he told me, He has bound them both. Whatever disgrace or bad luck may come from our actions here will belong to the Boar and the Narwhal clans. The Bear has claimed everyone here as a witness to this.
It seemed to me that the Bear was almost discomfited by how easily Peottre and Bloodblade had accepted his gambit. He clenched his fists several times, but when no one deigned to notice that, he turned and walked away from them. The Owl followed him. I suspected that they had expected a challenge that they could have settled with swords or fists, and that their concession had actually forced him and the other Hetgurd companions to proceed with their mission.
The process of bidding farewell to the Narcheska’s father proceeded grudgingly after that. The formal farewells involved the Hetgurd men, Chade, the Prince, Peottre and the Narcheska. The rest of us were left standing as informal witnesses. Thick was wandering idly about on the beach, overturning rocks and poking at the tiny crabs he disturbed there. I pretended to be manoeuvring to keep an eye on him as I edged closer and closer to the Fool. He appeared to be aware of my efforts, for he walked a little apart from Swift and Cockle. When I stood within hearing distance of a soft word, I said quietly, ‘So. Despite all my efforts, you contrived to get here. How did you do it?’
Although we are of a height, he still somehow managed to look down coolly on me. There was stillness in his face that bespoke a great anger. I thought he was not going to reply to me. Then, ‘I flew,’ he said coldly. He stood, not looking at me, breathing quietly. I felt somewhat encouraged that he had not stalked away but wondered if that was merely because he did not wish to call attention to our speaking. I ignored his mockery of my question.
‘How can you be angry at me? You know why I did it. You said that if you came here you would die here. So I arranged that you would not come here.’
For a time, he was silent. We both watched Arkon Bloodblade pushed off in a small boat. Two of his Boar warriors took the oars and leaned into them heartily. Their expressions proclaimed that they were happy to be leaving this island. The Fool gave me a sideways glance. His eyes had darkened to the colour of strong tea in a glass. Clean of powder and paint, his face was a smooth golden brown. ‘You should have respected that I knew what I had to do,’ he rebuked me.