Odd to see it resting on the frozen courtyard stones. Before Ragnarok, Gorm had spent hours floating on the lakes of Elfheim on the barge, drinking copious amounts of mead.
Swegde’s dark hair caught in the icy wind as he turned toward the king. “What is this contraption?”
Gorm held out his arms, smiling. “This is the royal barge.”
“But there is no water,” replied Swegde. “What does it float on?”
“Come aboard and all will be revealed.”
A guard opened a pair of gilded doors in the side of the barge. As we lined up, I noticed Ali seemed to be doing her best to stay as far away from me as possible. The relationship between us, at this point, seemed as frozen as the world around us. I tried desperately to put her out of my mind as I boarded the barge behind the king.
I couldn’t focus on Ali when I needed to stay alert, to anticipate Gorm’s actions. If he tried to hurt those around me, I would cut him to ribbons even if the helm fried my mind.
As I stepped inside, I felt a slight wave of disgust. The last time I’d been inside the barge had been over a thousand years ago, and I’d forgotten how ostentatious it was. Virtually everything was gilded, from the frames of the windows to the bar; even the seat cushions were stitched with shining golden threads.
King Gorm led us out a door and onto a small exterior platform with a golden railing.
A High Elf dressed in a captain’s uniform followed after us. “Where to, Your Majesty?”
Gorm lifted his hands expansively. “Let’s show them the city.”
The captain whistled sharply, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty courtyard. Then, a massive flock of giant moths swooped down from the sky. They were so large and numerous they blotted out the stars, and the beating of their wings stirred the frigid air, blowing up clouds of snow from the ground.
From each moth hung a thin golden cord. As they circled above us, more High Elves climbed onto the roof of the barge. Dressed in blue uniforms, they began to tie the cords to a large brass ring in the center of the barge’s roof.
The captain climbed into a small seat on the roof. “Ready, men?” he shouted. “Aloft!”
The barge lifted smoothly into the air, and the wind rushed over us as we rose. In moments, we were flying above the Citadel. A few snowflakes fell from the night sky, and the frozen city of Boston spread out below us. Twinkling lights nestled within a vast expanse of darkness. As the barge climbed higher, the breeze stiffened, and the snow grew heavier.
In her black leather, Ali looked tense, her fingers always twitching as if she planned to call her dagger.
She had good reason to be tense.
“Let us go back inside,” Gorm called above the wind.
Back in the cabin, a veritable smorgasbord of pastries had been arranged on tables, along with great steaming carafes of hot chocolate and coffee. Red velvet sofas had been pulled up around a gilded coffee table.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” said Gorm.
I kept standing, my mind always churning, strategizing how I’d make my move if I needed to.
“We have much to discuss,” said Gorm. “I thought the next contest should be a battle on moths above the city. No armor, and this time we’ll allow weapons like crossbows and javelins. It will be spectacular, elves flying like birds, fighting in the sky. A little messy when one falls, but I have men who can clean it up.”
The Regent shrugged. All eyes turned to Thyra.
“While I do agree a battle on flying moths would be spectacular,” said Thyra, “I remind you that article eight of the Winnowing contract states that the Night Elves get to choose the time, place, and rules of the second contest.”
Gorm’s lips compressed to a thin line. “And what will those be, then?”
Thyra nodded slightly at Ali. “Astrid, will you explain the rules of the contest?”
“Of course.” Ali crossed her legs, leaning back on the sofa with her arms spread out like she owned the place. “In the Shadow Caverns, we have no sun. No light to grow grass. There are no horses, no cattle, no beasts of burden of any sort. We have only the occasional goat and mushrooms. That’s it. All Dokkalfar, young and old, must run or walk if they wish to travel. So, in honor of my people’s humble lives, we will be