SUSPENDED IN AN X between the towering War Skull of Hel’s eye sockets and teeth, Jalna Audsdaughter had no choice but to endure the worsening pain in her manacled wrists and aching shoulders. The torment caused by the ghostly tentacles from within the Skull had stopped when the spell broke, but the mere effort to breathe had become, hanging as she was, more and more difficult.
Below her, Nidhug was still on his knees, groaning, holding his head in obvious pain. Good! she thought. Bloodsong’s Witch friend hurt him! I wish his damned head would fall off and roll across the floor! The thought brought an unexpected grin. But then— Why am I smiling? It’s not over. Damnit all to Hel!
She examined the cavern from her elevated vantage point, looked for some reason for hope, saw nothing she had not seen before. Spiders hung in thick webs around the torch-brackets, insects sought warmth on the walls nearest the torches, centipedes scuttled here and there, and rats crept about on the floor. But she hardly cared. Something within her had toughened. Even being chained on the Skull seemed less frightening. Bloodsong, she thought. It’s because I touched the mind of Bloodsong! She’s not dead like Nidhug claimed! And she’s coming back! Skadi be praised! Though Skadi has nothing to do with it, I guess. Bloodsong now fights in Hel’s name—
Jalna winced and cursed in anger as a new discharge of crackling blue energy sizzled upon the Skull’s surface near her head. She was further angered by the Skull’s pulsing light and the accompanying moan that monotonously throbbed nauseating vibrations through her body. She cursed again and gave her chains a jerk, cursed another time at the pain the movement caused in her wrists and shoulders.
Skadi’s Bow! There’s no escape! But Bloodsong would not give up, ever! I must be brave. Remember the Ballad of Bloodsong’s Triumph where she was tortured? What were the lines— ‘Oh she laughs at her pain as the king she defies, tells him a joke and then spits in his eyes!’
Before the spell, Jalna had only known Bloodsong through forbidden stories and ballads. The revolt Bloodsong led happened before Jalna was abducted to Nastrond. But now she knew the legendary warrior was more than stories sung in secret late at night. Bloodsong was real! And had fears, too! But she did not let them stop her from doing what was needed.
If only I could get free! Jalna thought. She again jerked on her unyielding chains. If I had a second chance now, I would live my life differently. To Hel with cowardly running away from problems and meekly trying to follow all the rules. Look where it got me. But even chained, I can be free, inside.
Nidhug climbed slowly off his knees and leaned unsteadily against the table of scrolls. Bloodsong! he thought. After six years of waiting, Hel finally sends her against me, but not leading an army of Death Riders. Only one Witch comes with her, a very young Witch in whom I sensed no great power. What trick is Hel trying to play on me this time? Does Bloodsong even know how Hel is using her? Or is the Witch more than she seems? Which deity does she follow? Maybe Hel Herself? Or is she one of Odin’s, curse Him? Surely not Freya. No mere Freya-Witch can defeat my sorcery.
His dizziness had nearly passed and his headache with it. He stopped leaning against the table, stood straight, rubbed his neck, looked at the young woman on the Skull. Unusually attractive, he noted. She will prize her beauty. I can use that against her. To avoid mutilation, she will do whatever I ask.
The way Nidhug was taking advantage of her position to coldly study her made Jalna burn with anger. She cursed under her breath. “Enjoying the view?” Oh no! Why did I say that? she asked herself. I know better than to talk back and look directly at the king. She averted her gaze. But why should I care? She stared back into his eyes. “I hope you go blind!”
Defiance? he thought. Interesting. She was not that way earlier. Did touching Bloodsong’s mind contaminate her? “When that Witch broke the spell, slave, I had not absorbed from your mind all the knowledge I sought. And I dare not use sorcery to examine your memories. The Witch might use the connection against me. I cannot even be certain the spell had time to completely work. So! I pray you, help your poor king!” He gave her a short, formal bow. “The welfare of the kingdom is in your hands.” Excellent! he thought. She looks confused. She was expecting threats and demands, not requests. “Please, my dear child, tell me all you remember about Bloodsong and the Witch riding with her.”
“Never!”
Curse it! “Many think that way, until the pain starts.”
“You can make me scream, but I will never beg you to stop!”
Those are Bloodsong’s exact words! But maybe I can change this slave’s mind. “It would be easier for me, and you, slave, if you cooperated. As a reward, I will unchain you, give you food and warm clothing, then let you rest. Your disobedience for entering the tunnel will be forgiven. I will even seek the spell to heal your legs!”
“Free me first!”
“Start by telling me Bloodsong’s plans.”
Even if I wanted to do that, I could not, she realized. Bloodsong has no plans.
Nidhug frowned at her hesitation. “Cooperate with me, slave. It hurts me to see you like this.”
“Not as much as it hurts me!”
“Then cooperate!” I’ll try one last ploy. “Little slave—”
“Little? I’m tall enough to kick your—”
“Yes, you are. And in truth, I never meant for you to be brought here at all. It was a horrible mistake. Someone will pay. I have noticed you before. Your beauty makes you special. I meant to single you out for special pampering as one of my honored wives. Your beauty, your obvious intelligence—”
“Intelligent enough to think you are an idiot, if you expect me to believe anything you say!”
“Enough! Your contact with Bloodsong has contaminated you.”
“Contaminated? Freed!”
“No. You are merely imitating her defiance, repeating her words, and acting as she did when facing torture. Examine her memories. You should have them within you, if the spell had time to work. Learn what I did to her the last time, if you dare.”
Bloodsong’s memories of torture rose in Jalna’s consciousness. What—? The ballad told lies? Bloodsong was tortured and— Jalna shied away from the truth, but there it was! Bloodsong broke! She begged Nidhug to stop when he— The image shocked Jalna to her core. Oh Gods! I couldn’t stand that! Panic flooded through her.
“No witty comments now, slave? Your expression tells me you know what I did to break the traitor, which confirms that my spell to probe her mind did work.”
“Curse you!”
“So now, to avoid sharing Bloodsong’s last torture, tell me her plans and everything else you learned. In detail. Begin!”
I can tell him the truth about Bloodsong’s plans without hurting her chances. If I cooperate a little, maybe he will not do to me what he did to her. “I will tell you the truth of her plans.”
He clapped his hands together. “Wonderful news! Do it!”
“Truthfully, I swear, Bloodsong has no plans.”
Could it be? he wondered. Yes, of course, it is possible. Hel may have left Bloodsong to her own puny devices, and she has no idea how to proceed against me and my army. Meanwhile, Hel could be planning a major attack, using Bloodsong as an expendable distraction. I must learn everything this slave knows, at once!
“I am wasting time,” he growled. “Torture will make certain you do not lie.”
“She has no plans!” Stop it, she told herself. He’s going to torture me, unless I invent false plans he will believe! And false plans might even mislead him and help Bloodsong! She strained against her chains. Think of false plans! she urged herself. Think!
“Bloodsong’s memories can tell you how horribly disfiguring,” he smiled and swept her with his gaze, “your coming torture will be. I healed her, afterward. But what if I did not heal you? What if you lived the rest of your life as an ugly monstrosity? I could put you on display in a cage, as an example to others, keep what is left of you chained naked for all to see, and, perhaps, never let you die. Imagine surviving the extreme agony awaiting you, then living with the results, forever.”
Panic built as she listened to his threat, but suddenly her feelings changed. Anger that had simmered for years boiled over. She thought about things she had tried to forget, friends and family Nidhug had killed, her parents and brother and the horror that had happened to them. And she remembered when she had vowed to kill him, the night he laughed while making her mother die of pain. But now it was too late. A berserking rage long suppressed for survival’s sake took control, beat back Jalna’s fear, and swept clean her thoughts. “Better to be thought a monster whose soul is free than a cowardly slave wearing your yoke!”
“A pretty speech, worthy of Bloodsong. But what if I made your torture worse than hers? Just for the fun of it?”
For a moment, horror hammered Jalna’s heart. But cooperating or begging for mercy was not what came to her mind. Forbidden words came instead, the battle cry slaves chanted in the Ballad of Bloodsong’s Revolt. I’ve wanted to shout those words since I first heard them, and there will never be a better time! Or worse.
Jalna’s chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Bloodsong and freedom!” she cried as loudly as she could, then laughed wildly like the free, if doomed, woman she felt she’d become.