Chapter 9: Secret Passage (1)

"There isn't a secret passage, dear boy. Not unless someone else knows of one and hasn't told me. If they knew of one, surely they would have used it already. Besides, it's too late anyway. So much time has passed since you arrived. No doubt you are wondering how I escaped. Well, that took some doing as well. But now I am free. Isn't that wonderful news?"

"Yes, yes. Wonderful indeed. So when can I go home? Surely you must have heard something of the situation here by now."

"I did hear something, though nothing specific. And that is why I asked you to come today. To give you details of what happened while you were gone. Do you remember Thorfast?"

Thorfast. He nodded vigorously. "Of course. How could I forget him? We traveled far together. What does he have to do with any of this?"

"Well, he found me after my imprisonment. I've been in this place ever since. Though I haven't seen him in months. Have you spoken to him recently?"

"No," Yngvar admitted. "We parted ways long ago."

"That's right. He went northward along with Brandr. Alasdair and Bjorn stayed south with us. Poor lad. Such a waste of talent. Alasdair has become very skilled with weapons. His skill with knives rivals mine own. And Bjorn is like no warrior I've met before. Even Gorm the Old feared him. Of course, that was before Gorm died."

"Gorm the old king is dead?"

"Indeed. The gods gave him a cruel death, didn't they? Much worse than anything we suffered under King Harald Finehair. As bad as the day he lost everything. When he fell from his horse, I thought he had broken his neck. Then I realized it was only the fall that killed him. Poisoned arrows shot through his flesh. One pierced his eye socket and another tore open his gut. All the way down he screamed. They say it lasted hours. But I never heard it myself."

"Poisoned arrows? That doesn't sound good."

"It wasn't until later that the poison began killing him. By then, his body was full of holes. A man named Leif Helgarson performed the funeral rites. At least I assume he was a priest. He read aloud from a book called Deeds of the Gods. After each reading, everyone bowed their heads. Some even cried or prayed aloud. I wondered where these people got such knowledge. Perhaps Ragnarök will be a time of great learning again."

Yngvar rubbed his chin. "So how did you escape? Did Leif help you?"

"Leif helped me more than I know. He brought me food and water every few days. More often than not, I ate alone. My captors weren't interested in feeding me. Yet somehow I survived on my wits. Once I learned to speak to them, I discovered many secrets. For instance, I learned which guard was loyal to me and which was disloyal. Those who wanted to learn new things were always allowed to spend time with me. This included teaching me languages. In return, I taught those guards the language of birds. It was quite simple, really. Just mimic the sounds they make and you understand them perfectly.

"After several weeks, I managed to convince the captain to allow me to sleep outside the walls. I slipped into the woods and slept beneath the trees. On occasion, I returned inside for supplies. Otherwise, I lived off berries and small animals. Eventually, I became stronger and bolder. I stole a sword once and made it disappear afterward. Thereafter, I wore the clothes of a slave girl. None noticed me leaving the fortress. I suppose I looked different enough to pass without notice.

"One morning, the doors opened wide and two men came out carrying chains. Two others followed behind with chests of gold coins stacked high. They led the three slaves up the hill toward the main hall. I was shocked at first but soon joined them. We carried our treasure to a room filled with tables piled high with silver cups and plates. These treasures belonged to the king himself, apparently.

"The chief guard escorted us back to the cell, laughing all the while. 'You're going to pay for your crimes,' he said. 'But don't worry. Your friend won't suffer.' He laughed so hard tears streamed down his face. 'He'll die screaming!'

"When we arrived at the cells, he unlocked the door and shoved me inside. 'See if you can survive another week. If you live, maybe I'll let you see what happens next.'"

She paused, staring at her hands folded over her lap. She seemed embarrassed to continue. Her cheeks flushed red as she continued.

"I waited a month, just to prove I would survive. Finally, one night the guards left me locked in here. I could tell by the smell the other prisoners had vacated the cell. So I climbed onto the bench. No bars blocked the window, though there was a wooden shutter that rolled shut when the guards entered the room. Outside, I saw stars above the treetops. Stars meant nothing to me, however. I knew the moon must have risen because its light shone through the leaves overhead. I'd spent countless nights looking at the same view.

"Then I heard voices coming closer. Voices speaking Frankish! I couldn't believe this place had been built beside a foreign-speaking land. How foolish the jarls were to think they could conquer an empire that spoke Greek and Latin. Now I understood why the Franks had been able to resist them for so long.

"'What's happening?' I asked the dark shape leaning against the wall across from me. The prisoner answered in Frankish. His voice sounded young, like a boy trying to imitate a man.

"'They've decided to kill you tonight,' he whispered. He seemed nervous, perhaps afraid someone might overhear him talking about something so important. 'Don't fight it. You're too valuable alive. Please, I beg you, do not try to flee before dawn. Don't risk everything on some mad plan to get away.'

"'Why are you telling me this?'

"'Because I want you to leave me unharmed after they've killed you. I'm sorry, I cannot say any more. But please trust me. Do not fight them. Let them take you out of here. Then I promise I will come find you tomorrow evening. And I swear I will free you.'

"'How?'

"'By whatever means necessary.'

"That was all he told me. With no way to verify his story, I believed him. A part of me hoped he was lying, that he planned to betray me later. But I trusted him anyway."

Gyna stopped again. Yngvar wondered how much longer she intended to recount her tale. He felt he should be writing it all down or else forgetting it entirely. Alasdair sat straight and attentive. Thorfast had turned white as snow and now stared at Gyna with narrowed eyes. Even Bjorn remained still, listening intently. Only Egil stirred restlessly, turning his head side to side.

Yngvar guessed these last details troubled their captor. It was good news to hear she escaped. Yet she did not seem pleased. Did she fear betrayal? Or did she regret sharing such secrets with these enemies?