A SEER'S SOLACE , KAZ BREKKER

iv. over troubled oceans

But did she really owe him anything? Why should she feel guilty over choosing freedom? Pekka had out bid Kaz, and Randvi worked for whoever was willing to offer the highest price. It was no different to what Kaz did. Was it really betrayal if there had never been any loyalty?

Only time would tell.

*

The winds howled and whistled as they passed through small gaps in the wall, blowing sparks from the fire onto the dust floor below. A dark blue filled the house, and with the sunset long gone, the crackling glow of the fire became the only source of light.

Randvi ran a small twig through her fingers, picking at some of the bark, before placing one end in the flames and watching as it began to smoke and burn.

Summer had passed, and with it had come a bitter winter. The harvests in the village had failed due to the early set snow, and with no money to afford the inflated food prices of nearby towns, many had turned to hunting. The men and boys would leave at dawn, and return in the cover of darkness. If the gods had blessed them, they would return carrying deer on their backs, or rabbits in their hands. But the gods weren't always so generous.

"Rúna," Came a gentle voice from the other side of the fire. "Be careful playing with fire. I don't want to see you've burnt holes in your clothes."

Randvi looked up from the floor, and squinted across the fire to see her mother watching her with a small smile. On her lap sat thin sticks of wood and thread. She watched in awe as her mother effortlessly tied small, pointed pieces of metal to sticks to create makeshift arrows. With her brother Eivor out hunting almost every day, her mother made sure he had an endless supply of weaponry. She would bless them in the hope that one day Eivor would return home lucky.

The deer had been driven out of the nearby forests by the swarm of villagers desperate for food. Wildlife was becoming rare and hard to trick, and even her brother, an expert shooter, was struggling to catch anything. There weren't even any birds in the sky to shoot down. Randvi had spent weeks hungry, having to sleep with an uncomfortable grumble in her belly. She was tired of having nothing to eat. She was tired of being poor.

"Mor (mother)," Randvi began, carefully walking around the fire to sit by her mothers side. "Can I join Eivor on the hunt tomorrow? Maybe if there were two of us-"

But her mother cut her off with a tutting noise, and the shake of her head. She didn't look up from her lap, and continued to weave threads through her fingers.

"But Eivor taught me how to use a bow. I'm good and-"

"You will not go." Her mother said sternly, the weaving movements growing more aggressive. "The men hunt, and we stay home. That is the way of the world. If your far (father) were still with us perhaps we'd have more luck catching something."

Randvi shifted at that, moving a few inches away from her mother. She had never known her father. She couldn't remember his voice, or his face, or the way hr smelt. Nothing. All she could do was nod and smile, and pretend to remember the memories her mother and brother would reminisce over.

Her mother let out a soft sigh, gently placing the arrows down besides her. She stared into the fire for a few moments, before finally speaking, her voice now back to its usual gentle tone.

"Your far is with the gods now. He feasts and drinks in a great hall, then spends his days fighting alongside the gods. It is the best fate any of us can wish for." She smiled, turning to face Randvi. "He died for his country. He died honourably fighting the drüsje."